Tuesday Slice: Taking time for me

 

We had a staff development day yesterday, with a whole hour for lunch--educators know what a gift that is!  We sat in our overly-air-conditioned cafeteria for three hours in the morning, and I felt the need to warm up after eating in my office...so I went for a walk outside.  

I rarely venture outdoors during a workday, my usual schedule prohibitive of such activity, and it felt a little scandalous to do so.  I slipped out a back door and immediately felt the sun's warm rays on my shoulders.  Conscious of the time, I walked briskly around the cul-de-sac behind our school, empty of delivery trucks at the moment.  I made my way around the side entrance, and stopped at the garden planted on the front lawn.

Giant stalks of who-knows-what were bent to the ground.  I noticed tiny green cherry tomatoes here and there, and sprawling vines snaking through dried mulch with leaves as big as my hand.  The vines intrigued me, so I followed them with my eyes...and spied not one, but two watermelons!  Not quite ready for picking, so I let them be.

An orange butterfly--a fritillary, by the looks of it--fluttered from one flower to another.  I spent a few quiet moments just watching it feed, marveling at its colors and long, spindly legs.  Something made me look at my watch, and I realized it was time to get back to work.

Warmed up, back at my desk in my windowless library, I said to myself, "I should do this every Monday."

Where am I?--Spiritual Journey Thursday

Ramona has given us the prompt of exploring the concept of "here" for this month's Spiritual Journey reflection. You can find her own post here.

I am challenged to be present

Be here, in the now

With my bleary, tired eyes squinting at the screen

My stomach slightly roiling from today's uncouth eating

My head fuzzy with fatigue.

Before this

I paid a bill

listened to a podcast

while Christmas shopping with an hour to spare on a coupon,

and signing up for yet another self-help newsletter.

Was I there for any of that?

Before that

I was nodding off on the couch

phone in hand

husband seated across the room

new show on the television, half watched.

Was I there for any of that?

It is hard for me to be present

with a mind that tends to the future

and a body that protests for more sleep.

And when I sleep

will I finally be here

or will my mind decide to roam fields of dreams?

What is so wrong with the present

that makes it so hard to be here?

Tuesday Slice: Dance party of one

Some mornings

I turn the radio on, volume down low

Search for a station with a beat

Feet starting to move, then hips

Arms start swinging--

Moves from ancient aerobics tapes surface

(Who cares?  No one else is awake!)

Hands in the air, stretching overhead--

important for people of a certain age, so I'm told

Occasional slick shimmies from clubbing days

Conjure memories of sticky sweet machine-made fog

Carefree nights with friends...

The song trails off.  Do I have time for another?

Check the clock:  no.

This dance party ends with workday prep

Instead of a 2am run to Denny's for fries and a coke.

Three to five minute dance parties have become my mini-workout of choice most workday mornings.  Bonus mood booster if I happen upon eighties dance music.

 

Tuesday Slice: A library is not

In honor of Banned Books Week

 A library is not just pretty books lined up in neat rows

Not just pretty books filled with pretty thoughts

Not just pretty thoughts written to hide the ugliness

Hiding the ugliness does not make it go away.

A library is books lined up in neat rows

Rows of books filled with problems, real and imagined

The real and imagined conflicts mirroring our own

Our own fears and faults playing out in the safety of the pages.

A library's books are not always meant to make you feel comfortable.

The discomfort is where our discussion begins.

Tuesday Slice: Breathe in, breathe out

 

I've been taking lots of deep breaths lately

Running behind

my body flashes hot

breathe in, breathe out

pick up the pace.

Work piling up

no end in sight

breathe in, breathe out

finish one thing.

A student spiraling

my defiance rises, too

breathe in, breathe out

ask for support, continue teaching.

Another COVID notice

shake my head

breathe in, breathe out

adjust my mask.

Watching the news

sadness reigns

breathe in, breathe out

turn off the television.

The couch beckons

my body is tired

breathe in, breathe out

walk around the block.

The harvest moon glows

I step outside in the dark

breathe in, breathe out

in that pause, all is well.

Tuesday Slice: A royal apology

I'm sorry, beautiful Monarch

(you're the biggest I've ever seen, by the way)

I didn't realize you'd sense

the milkweed plant ensconced in a mesh tent

I knew, as you landed atop the synthetic barrier

yellow flowers muted by the white below your feet 

your abdomen curling, testing

 that you really wanted to lay that egg

but you see, I already have several

of your kin to feed

and I'm afraid there's not enough to go around.

I missed the photo opportunity, standing at my kitchen counter and watching the enormous butterfly land on the pop up tent protecting several caterpillars from would-be predators. I am seriously concerned that they will eat through the milkweed before I can procure more; we've been on the hunt for plants for three days with no success at nurseries nearby.  I may have to drive a bit to find more food for my voracious crawlers.

Looks big, but less than a half-inch in this photo.
One of four, possibly five in the tent.

 

Tuesday Slice: First week highs and lows

I felt rusty, out of practice, as the first class entered the Story Castle.  It helped to sing the familiar songs and read the stories used for library orientation, the back-and-forth chants and the nodding of heads knocking off the rust.  Library expectation lessons with the older students went well thanks to the helpful suggestion of using a Jamboard for each class, organizing our rules according to the school's safe-respectful-responsible guidelines.  The giggles happened on cue when I mentioned that all bets were off if a T-rex entered the library--screaming and running allowed then.  I saw smiling eyes above masks as our scholars walked or danced out of the library with their books in hand.

The week felt chaotic, though.  Some students are still struggling with adapting to in-person learning again.  The flow just isn't there yet, though I should hardly have expected it this first week back in the library.  The schedule will have to change again this week as the lunch schedules were tweaked last Friday, and we are all hitting the ground running after a three-day weekend.

I long for routine days, for the flexibility they allow within their framework.  In this pandemic, I think we could all benefit from some stability.  I'm hoping the dust will settle soon.