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The Write Time


I can’t find a quiet place to write. So many thoughts swimming through my mind. For the last hour, I have been trying to get it all down on paper, but to no avail. It began as a poem until the chaos of a few exercising at my feet crashed into my creative flow and brought it to an end. The second attempt brought forth the beginnings of a narrative.  This time the eruptions of an argument blocked the words from flowing.  Siblings forgetting how much they missed each other over the last few months. My fingers starting to let the words flow before coming to a halt when the next demand came.

With the temporary silence come the ideas once again. So much to write about. Knowing the importance of using this time to process all that is on my mind, I attempt anew. Headphones hugging my ears, Eric Clapton transports me into that place deep inside my mind where the writing takes place.

Unfortunately, the writing is not coming even though the ideas are swirling around as if in a whirlpool. A weekend away. Grades. Meeting up with an old friend. The arrival of family. Teacher workshops. Grades. A warm welcome after being out for a day. Discussions of running away. A 14-year-old in crisis. Grades. Upcoming funeral. Soccer. Lesson plans. The joy of my wives. The support of so many readers. “Grandma and I think you are having a midlife crisis.” I have no idea where this piece of writing is heading. I take a deep breath and let come what may.

What exactly is a midlife crisis? (Funny that is what would come to my mind as Sean appears at my door waiting patiently for me to notice him. I give him my iPod and send him on his way.) After doing some research, I have decided that midlife crisis is the wrong name for it. I think ‘reawakening’ fits what is happening for me much better. The word ‘crisis’ has such negative connotations. What is happening for me is not negative. It is about finding my passion for living. I love life and am going to enjoy it to its fullest. I have a pretty good idea what that looks like for me; however, I am still working on exactly what that looks like for us as a family.  Right now, I am enjoying having them all within reach.

Again, my fingers become still. A blank space fills my mind as Rush sings ‘Closer to the Heart’ to me. So much is close to my heart right now. Not only my family, but also my students. I return from my workshop day to hugs and cries of “I missed you!” Life goes on. The funeral looms. Whispers of retaliation heard in the hallways. A meeting for a student in crisis. He needs a self-contained setting, which means he will be leaving my class. Yet, when given the choice of a regular education, he wants to stay in my class. (It does not look like that can happen for him right now. However, I will be keeping in touch with him in some way.) A near fight at lunchtime. Girls not knowing how better to resolve their issues. The urgency for the need of a girls’ group bearing down on me.  Throughout it all, teaching happens. Students excited about the books they are reading in their gender-based book clubs!! The boys reading nonstop looking for the cussing and enjoying the story. The girls identifying with the reality found within the covers. Girls connecting the events of the main character to those in their own lives. Begging to take the books home and read it outside of class. Little victories.

A knock sounds at my door. The time to write that I have stolen away from my family is over. Tomorrow there will be another one.

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