This school year is no harder than any other school year. Really. My class is delightful--on Friday we had a writing session together that just blew me away. So many little pencils furiously scratching the page. I was inspired and humbled by their writing pursuits. And their talent.
No, the climate in the classroom is not the reason for the tremendous fatigue I feel. Nor is there anything I can point to easily. I think it's simply the usual.
Or lack thereof.
I feel like a mouse on a see-saw, running up to the writing end of my life, then back to the teaching end. Back and forth. Up and down. High and low. (Except that this see-saw has more than two ends. There's home/family life in there somewhere, too.)
I recently gave a talk to interested folks about writing for children and the question invariably came up: "How do you do it all? How do you write and teach? Where do you find the time?" I joked that I steal time, because that's what you have to do. Steal it. (Nobody is going to give it to you willingly.) Then I talked for a bit about how I manage to balance it all.
I kind of exaggerated about the balancing, because the truth of it is that I'm not doing it as well as I'd like.
*cues mouse to begin running back and forth again*
And now, somehow, I find myself on the cusp of Thanksgiving. THANKSGIVING.
How did that happen? Where did the time go? (This is my constant whine.) Have I been so busy being the mouse running around like crazy that I missed the entire Fall ???
I don't know. Really I don't even know.
My gut says that I need to just embrace the mouse--that the mouse's struggle for balance is really just part of the human condition. Is my purpose really simply to balance the see-saw? Or is it to make my peace with the ups-and-down-of-it-all?
The reflection continues.