Either way, it’s clear I’m not making writing enough of a priority as of late (and the same goes for reading, I’m embarrassed to say). A colleague just posted something this morning – talk about signs from the universe! – about procrastination that really struck home and made me pay more attention to my “schedule.”
This is it, man; this time is all we get. And I become so frustrated with myself because I wrote so many posts about the passing of time during this pandemic and resulting quarantine, so I should know better. I need to make time for what’s important, and my career is extremely important to me, but so is my writing. I want to make it my career, and as such, I need to pay it the attention it rightfully deserves. So this post is part pledge, part prose.
I have been writing some random, disconnected bits of images that come into my mind just before bed. Hopefully, one such scene will turn into a story as long as I take the time to sit with it and expand it. Here’s one such scene:
He didn’t even know she was in the room. The broad strokes he made with the stick of charcoal were uninterrupted. He stayed on the sool with one leg dangling to the floor. His eyes were wide, trying to simultaneously assess his work so far and decided where to go next. His focus was absolute and her footsteps had fallen on deaf ears. She didn’t mind because she liked watching him work, especially now in the late afternoon when the room burned with the sun’s dying rays pouring in from the westward facing floor to ceiling windows. In another twenty minutes or so, when the radio DJ talked more and played less music for the suckers struggling to get home in rush hour traffic, he’d have to turn on the many lamos of all different shapes and sizes scattered about the studio.
The radio was turned low and she couldn’t exactly make out the melody. He kept it in the far corner and only ever turned it on or off and adjusted the volume. He didn’t go scanning stations. He never really listened anyway. It was all white noise. When he really wanted to hear, he’d use headphones. It was like leaning closer to hear every word in a conversation and he always minimized the distance between himself and whatever it was he wanted to give his undivided attention to.
It was thrilling when it was her.
He toddled off his spindly, wooden stool to survey his sketch, standing tall to take it all in. His long, black jacket hung off his frame, falling past his knees. When he finally turned around to face her, she knew he’d be shirtless. The jacket was his favorite piece of clothing and he treated it more and more like a security blanket. His sterling silver pendant of Saint Catherine of Bologna would hang low around his neck and would catch her eye as it always did. It was the only piece of jewelry he owned.
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorjamb. They could stay just like this, he wouldn’t even have to turn around, and she’d be happy. Her lips parted in a smile and all that joy nearly bubbled into a laugh, so she brought her hand up to cover her mouth and stifle the sound. She wasn’t ready to be discovered just yet.
As I wrote that, a fuller series of scenes began to develop in my mind, like:
him lighting a cigarette for her with match on smooth side of his pendant
drew his own tattoos
draws on her arm while she watches the rain in the morning, talking softly
black smudges on her face from charcoal
going to dinner with friends, she orders white wine
Maybe this will become something … who knows? All I do know is that I need to keep writing.
I know, I know, I know. I’m a day late – AGAIN. I missed Writer Wednesday – AGAIN. But at least this week I have a valid excuse, or at least what I believe to be a valid excuse.
School started up again and full disclosure: it’s kicking my ass.
My building shut down for students on Friday, March 13, 2020; it was the last normal school day. Staff came in for a half day the following Monday. That means it’s been nearly six months since I was in a classroom with students. And while things are definitely not normal, they are definitely improving. I was absolutely E L A T E D to see about half of my students today! Even former students managed to stop by and say hello and it just felt so good. I had a smile – underneath my mask – that just never went away. And though I’m more exhausted than I thought I would be, I am also happier and more satisfied than I thought I would be. Adding to this simple joy is the fact that I was blessed to have relatively few technological issues, and the few I did have were user error (but I think I fixed my issue and tomorrow should be better). I just had a wonderful day because I was with people, connecting with people, and feeling like life really can and will continue. As bone-tired as I am (and I’m sure this very dreary weather isn’t helping), I’m also rejuvenated because I have hope, and I even feel like I have a purpose. This contentment just validates that I truly b e l o n g in a classroom.
And Bruce Springsteen – the Boss man himself! – announced another album with the E Street Band is due out next month! Could life get any better?
It’s weird how the universe works (or maybe not; maybe that’s the point) because I’ve been thinking about Bruce Springsteen a lot lately, particularly about his song “Human Touch.”
I have to interrupt myself: right now, a woman is walking down my street in the rain and she couldn’t be happier. She spread her arms wide and lifted her face to the sky and she smiled. The woman inside the house she just left opened the door and called to her, offering a ride. But the Walking Woman just shrugged and smiled wider, hopping joyfully onto the sidewalk and giving a final wave from over her shoulder. That’s awesome. That’s my tribe, man.
Anyway, back to Bruce Springsteen and his song, “Human Touch.” While it’s undoubtedly sultry and romantic in nature, I feel it still applies during this pandemic and resulting quarantine, and I will explain why via annotation (man; am I an English teacher or what?!)
You and me we were the pretenders We let it all slip away In the end what you don’t surrender Well the world just strips away
Girl ain’t no kindness in the face of strangers Ain’t gonna find no miracles here Well you can wait on your blessings darlin’ But I got a deal for you right here
I ain’t lookin’ for prayers or pity I ain’t comin’ ’round searchin’ for a crutch I just want someone to talk to And a little of that human touch Just a little of that human touch
Ain’t no mercy on the streets of this town Ain’t no bread from heavenly skies Ain’t nobody drawin’ wine from this blood It’s just you and me tonight
Tell me in a world without pity Do you think what I’m askin’s too much ? I just want something to hold on to And a little of that human touch Just a little of that human touch
Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize Well it comes with a hard hard price You can’t shut off the risk and pain Without losin’ the love that remains We’re all riders on this train
So you been broken and you been hurt Show me somebody who ain’t Yeah I know I ain’t nobody’s bargain But hell a little touchup And a little paint…
You might need somethin’ to hold on to When all the answers they don’t amount to much Somebody that you can just talk to And a little of that human touch
Baby in a world without pity Do you think what I’m askin’s too much? I just want to feel you in my arms And share a little of that human touch…
Ok … so the lines I made purple are the most important lines as they pertain to this post and the point I’m making. “In the end what you don’t surrender / Well the world just strips away” – the world is a touch place, and that is not a new nor revelatory idea. But it seems harder and colder in the midst of the current state of affairs, where we’re not allowed to gather and when we do, it seems to be for protests against social injustice more than reasons to celebrate. The sociopolitical climate is extremely divisive and the social and emotional distance between people is ever-widening. I know some of us are smiling and keeping our mouths shut just to get through the day. And I know some of us feel disillusioned and disheartened. And I know a lot of us are angry. Those extreme passions and emotions can strip important parts of our humanity away, like rationality and civility and humility and compassion and forgiveness. This world, even before the pandemic, could leave us wanting to be alone. Be careful what you wish for and all that, I guess.
“I ain’t lookin’ for prayers or pity / I ain’t comin’ ’round searchin’ for a crutch / I just want someone to talk to” For me, these lines eloquently express my new outlook on the challenges that lay ahead in my professional life, but I suppose it could apply just as easily to my personal life, too. I don’t want to complain and be pitied or pacified. I don’t want anyone to fix anything for me. I just want to communicate – to laugh and cry and wax philosophical about all sorts of topics, particularly ones that rock my soul. There’s that awesome saying that’s been circulating for a while now, about how people don’t listen to authentically respond, but just for their turn to speak. And I feel like this is especially true during this pandemic and quarantine because there’s so many filters and screens and barriers, and so much “communication” is done through social media, where the emphasis is more on media that authentic social congregation, where everyone is flouting their own propaganda. It’s harder to be dismissive and indifferent and inauthentic when it’s a real conversation, when it’s face-to-face.
“Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize / Well it comes with a hard hard price / You can’t shut off the risk and pain / Without losin’ the love that remains / We’re all riders on this train” Despite all the naysayers out there, there is a common human experience, which is why “we’re all riders on this train.” To isolate ourselves is to deny ourselves community and the chance at being loved and included. It seems easier to just give up on people and subscribe wholeheartedly to “do you,” but it’s an awful way to live, in my opinion. It’s all about balance; all relationships require us to balance our needs with the needs of our loved ones. Just as giving selflessly can lead to burn out, so can never giving at all.
“So you been broken and you been hurt / Show me somebody who ain’t” The best worst thing about heartbreak is that it is part of the universal human experience; we’ve all been there. And currently, we’re all dealing with different personal and professional issues brought on by these unprecedented times. That’s all the more reason to reach out and find “that human touch” where you can.
“You might need somethin’ to hold on to / When all the answers they don’t amount to much/ Somebody that you can just talk to” We’re fed conflicting information on a daily basis from a variety of different sources, and sometimes that information is not beneficial or pleasing or even useful. So yeah, sometimes the answers “don’t amount to much” and you need “someone to talk to.” I loved teaching today, every single second. I had a mask on and kept my distance from my students and didn’t see as many colleagues as I normally would, but I got to talk to people about their interests and their challenges and we got to connect.
I was unsure what to focus on for this week’s blog post, but I realize it would be remiss not to write about going back to school. Yesterday marked the first day of staff orientation, and it was definitely different. We were isolated and separated, spending the majority of the day alone in our classrooms attending and completing virtual professional development activities. It could have been frustrating an disappointing and overwhelming, and at times, it was all of those things.
But I’ve decided to make a more concerted effort in my professional – and personal – life to be happy. That doesn’t mean I can’t express sorrow or frustration or anger, but it does mean that when the option presents itself, I’m going to choose to be happy. I spent the day with good friends who happen to be colleagues, and celebrated a professional achievement with those same good friends. Most of us were happy to see each and be together, even if the circumstances were not ideal. But the smile and warm reunions and the genuine joy I was able to observe and participate in left me feeling better than I’d felt in months.
This morning, I walked the boardwalk near my home and when people smiled and wished me a “good morning,” I was instantly happier because I felt connected. With the sunlight streaming down and the smell of the sea salt in the air with the constant shushing of the waves, life was beautiful. I felt beautiful in a way I hadn’t in a long time. I thought of the good fortune I’ve had, and the good fortune I was honored to have family and friends and loved ones share with me, and it was all so beautiful.
I want to feel beautiful every day. And yes, shallow though it may seem, that involves makeup and clothing. If I like the reflection in the mirror, it’ll be easier to find other things I love about myself, the real things that matter. I want my insides to match my outsides because feeling beautiful inside and out makes me happy. I would also venture to hypothesize that being happy makes others want to be around me. I had all these admittedly somewhat obvious revelations this morning, and it truly inspired change.
I want to keep that change going when I see my students this year. Some will be coming into the building, and some will not, but the joy I offer should be the same. Love is the most important thing (in my opinion), and the connections that come from love – and there are so many different kinds! – should be preserved always, but especially during these strange times. I want to be a beacon of happiness for my colleagues and for my students. I want to enter the building and have people come and greet me, not shy away with anxiety. I always want to be surrounded my people because, as a quote I found on the internet so blatantly stated, “Love fiercely. Because this all ends.”
I guess I had a kind of a revelation yesterday when a friend whom I hadn’t seen or spoken to really since March was surprised to find I was happy. It made me question how I’d been presenting myself if the idea of me being happy (and grateful) would be so unbelievable, especially to someone who supposedly knows me very well. It’s so easy to give in and be negative, and times we should to give authentic vent to our frustrations and maintain a healthy, emotional balance. But given the choice, I’m going to be happy. I want my students and colleagues to leave my classroom smiling. That’s my goal for this school year. (It should be noted that I want to lose weight, get accepted into the University of Limerick’s Creative Writing MFA Program (again), and finish Moody Blue and find a publisher).