Morning, start, now, 7:30—

Think I can write for about 10 minutes, something like that.  Teaching week behind me, but all I can think about are my students, what I “taught” them yesterday, where I am in my life, where my passions are.  I keep feeling the tick, the tock, the ticktock of it all.  Sometimes I’m stressed, sometimes I’m motivated.  This would be motivation, a near-angry intention from me that I have to do something.  And that’s write and offer ideas while I write.  Not that I’m trying to avoid the word “teach”, but I don’t see myself as the a-typical educator.  Not even sure I see myself as an educator.  I simply have ideas I want to share.

One such entertain: When does someone say, “enough”?  What has to happen in order for someone to make a drastic, even dangerous shift for the sake of their inner quietude?  When does the character know when they’ve reached that point, and how can they be sure?  When does the character know it’s time to move?

I feel I’m nearing an enough, with a couple realities.  Not that I’m mad or resentful, or regretful toward anything, but there needs to be a shift or two for me, and soon.  I keep reflecting on 37, and how I’m 37, and how I don’t have much time.  You could dismiss me and say I’m overreacting, but I frankly think I’m under-reacting.  I share the idea with students that ‘you are your best teacher’.  So, I need to be a better teacher to myself.

The morning, the day, has started its engines.  Time to taxi out, take off, reach an unfamiliar altitude, and keep climbing.  See what I see up there, and look down at what used to unnerve.  We can all do this.  We all have the fortitude to say, “enough.”