So I focus on students. My students who I regard more as educators and colleagues than anything else. This place, teaching me about me and what I’m truly meant to do. Approaching goals, and getting there however I can… using what’s around me and where I am. Feeling urgency and fervent lifts in every breath, this morning.
Morning making its way to afternoon, reminding me I have no much time, and if I have plenty I need use every drop of it. Opening doors for new invitations and closing all doors and windows and other opening on the nay-say. Beginning to affect my writing, the negatives and the agitations. Not healthy. Need leave. No more seeking and solicitation of any kind of approval or election. Last night in the restaurant with Jesse, he making up stories about the cooks in front of us by the pizza oven, at bar sipping my wine and he his beer, what they do and where they’re going, their secret affair and trysts after work, and other employees and how long they’ve been there. All fictionalized, and I couldn’t get enough of his stories. Teaching me I need keep with my short stories, characters, all of them. From Kelly to myself, to others I’ve toyed with, to new voices I haven’t yet met.
The day, showing me how to get There. Talking about writing and how it’s not only a therapy or remedy, reliever of any anxiety or tension, but a lens, a vessel, taking you to where you want to be, away from the agitator. My writing, taking care of me, teaching me not only how to write and read my own work with more acuteness, but how to live. How to wade and swim and back and forward stroke in happiness. Seeing I’m a student, still. My fervor ascends, helps me gain altitude, cruise, find all New.