Done with 5 class. Finally got the papers out of my life, lighter backpack and mind, clearer in my composition of day. This morning’s lecture AGAIN—or, discussion, not lecture—inspires me, seeing my students write in their journals and scribble thoughts as class is in motion. Some telling me about—
Interrupted by a student finding me in this conference room, wanting help in her revision of paper 2 and with the thesis for the final work. More and more, I find education is more what I am than I thought, more than just a writer. MY style of “educating”, the generation and exchange of, play with, ideas. Feel like this coffee isn’t bloody working. “Stay in student mode,” I tell myself. Stick to the Composition book, where is it? In bag. Take out. Here to my left, open, ready for more notes, reactions and reflections to the day and the semester’s end. One of my students this morning, ’S’, said to her friend, “…slept for like 3 hours, did homework…” The determination and looks from some of these book-carriers, so devoted, relentless in their pursuits.. did I lose some of that? I hope not. NO, I didn’t. Woke this morning ready for school, no aftershocks from wine sips, just a tired yes but eager ME.
Something distracting me but I won’t let it. If anything, it provides an invitation, to think further and with more expansiveness, agility. More freedom. Can sense and taste the growth of the chapters, my own league and consistency— but then the distraction cripples me, and I hate everything I’m writing. This is life, or being an artist, something. And at this point in my life.
Something has to change.
Well, okay, then ME.
I have to change, difference, Newness, a new style of living and seeing everything around me. Health, fitness, thoughts, all of it. Now, I shift.. to Total Wellness. Some would argue that’s not even possible, to which I respond, “Well, why not?” Sure it is. I’ll show you it IS. Me here in this conference room at the head table writing and watching people pass in the hallway, the academic environment and making it my own, not letting—
More distractions, interruptions. Life, the adjunct world, this campus, my bag, my phone, my lowering coffee puddle. Frustrated this morning, with so much, but I have to write through it. Wish I could escape, just for a week. Somewhere like Yosemite, or Yellowstone, Alaska. But that wouldn’t solve. Wouldn’t solve a thing. Need to focus, as Mom said. Just found out an old, and past, friend, has his own business. A line of haircare products. And this guy didn’t go to college, or at least finish, never displayed any prime and paramount interest other than chasing girls. And HE, has what I want. He beat me to it. That’s not the way to think, I know, and I should be happy for him. But I can’t help but think how all these other people around me, some of whom are just plainly crazy and imbalanced, have their own business, travel, get to live from their crEATivity, while I’m stuck in the humdrum, the doldrum, the pattern, the fucking clock.
All the most counterproductive ways of thinking and attitudes. Center Self… breathe… Wellness… suddenly other adjunct in the office with me disappears, and I’m sipping solitude, pairing it with this coffee. “Go for a walk,” I tell myself, “get another cup, and make it a double.” Enjoy again the feeling you had during class, when it ended.
Need be more positive, universally.