Low expectations: spring break '11

I am entrenched in the opening weekend of a much needed spring break.  And while many of my students and colleagues are wrapped up in extensive plans for their week off, I've decided to take a more relaxing and less creative respite from the hustle and bustle of the working world.

Every August countless teachers and students head back to school and every August countless teachers and students circle this week on their calendar.  It is every student's dream to head to exotic locations with their best buds and collect the most boss facebook photos to show the world (and future would-be employers).  Of course, once the week is over, those photos serve as only depressing reminders that spring break was then and Mr. Nickson's class is now.  Boo-hoo.

In the act of circling this week by August, I am no different.  However, my excitement at doing absolutely nothing distinguishes me.  Of course my wife and I talk about going places and doing things.  But, when presented with the prospect of being somewhere at a certain time, spending X number of hours in the car, and knowing I could get away with doing nothing, I will choose nothing.

That is not to say I'm lazy, or that I dislike my job.  Quite the contrary.  But spring break is special in its lack of schedule and expectations.  This morning for instance, my dog and I ran seven miles due to the fact that I didn't give myself an expectation.  Where ever we got, we got, I said.  This week, I'll probably go up to work quite a bit and get stuff done while the students are away.  But, with zero expectations, it's all gravy.

So while millions of high school and college students and teachers rush to make their flights, wade in crowded lines to walk through x-ray body scanners, and experience Montezuma's Revenge in their all-inclusive paradises, I'll be playing it hour by hour, enjoying my impending schedule of absolutely nothing.  Speaking of which, I need to get back to doing.

(How I feel this week)

To the muses

Sadly, and most surprisingly, this morning I read of Suze Rotolo's death last week from cancer at the age of 67.  Rotolo, the one-time girlfriend of folk/rock legend Bob Dylan, is most famous for the album cover the two share on The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, considered to be Dylan's breakthrough album.

Rotolo never sold out arenas, recorded a great album of her own, or wrote a memorable song.  Her legacy, however, is far more than an iconic image captures.  For several years, Rotolo served as Dylan's muse.  "Tomorrow is a Long Time," "Don't Think Twice it's Alright," and "Boots of Spanish Leather,"  all trace their emotional angst back to Rotolo.  And while Dylan is quickly and rightly given credit for these beautiful songs, who's to say where any of us might be without our inspirations?  Here's to those who inspire us.

Hundred more years

Yesterday my wife brought my two boys up to work, along with a lunch for us all.  It was really special to share the afternoon with them, however brief it be.  My older son, Peter walked by my side through the halls where the students fiddled through lockers and socialized during their free time. Passing colleagues kindly joked, "new student?" 

Peter stands just above my knees and viewing him as a future high school student is a challenge to say the least.  However, soon enough his day will come in these same halls (hopefully) and I will watch him grow as I've watched five classes pass through this school already in my time.  I still feel like a new teacher sometimes, but now I'm running into college graduates whom I taught.

Peter's brother Thomas is our baby at home.  I barely remember Peter the baby, as he transitions to big boy gradually.  Soon enough Thomas will be big, too, and Thomas the baby will be but a memory.  Thankfully pictures and videos fill our hard drive at home to aid where memory fails.

The kids keep growing, and coincidentally the parents do, too.  A song over the radio expresses my feelings better than my written word ever could.  Francesca Battistelli "Hundred More Years."  Enjoy.

In due time

Several years ago I ran across a quite popular prayer and reflection by the Jesuit thinker Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.  The prayer serves as a lesson in patience and the promise of growth.   It reminds me, today, of how important it is to look beyond the immediate opportunity and onward to the things that may still be, but are very much hidden.  Often we desire so badly one thing of the present, only to be hardened upon its rejection.  However, years later, life goes on stronger and positively, full of a fresh and reawakened self.  I share it with this blog, as it remains a powerful reflection for me today.  Possibly, it may be welcomed for you, too.

Patient Trust

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.

We are quite naturally impatient in everything

to reach the end without delay.

We would like to skip the intermediate stages.

We are impatient of being on the way to something

unknown, something new.

And yet, it is the law of all progress

that it is made by passing through

some stages of instability - 

and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you;

your ideas mature gradually - let them grow,

let them shape themselves, without undue haste. 

Don't try to force them on,

as though you could be today what time,

(that is to say, grace and circumstances

acting on your own good will)

will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit

gradually forming in you will be.

Give our Lord the benefit of believing

that his hand is leading you,

and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself

in suspense and incomplete.


Patient Love- Attached (to the left) you will find a podcast reading of the prayer.  Enjoy!