Friday, August 6, 2010

Summer Vacation

Note to Self:

You didn't have a vacation.  You weren't baking in coconut oil, sipping a margarita and sleeping in until eleven.  You didn't lounge around on lazy boy, curling up to a novel and sipping iced coffee.  You didn't go to someplace exotic, where you could come back and feel the conflicting sense of superiority in America ("Oh God, we have it so good here.  You don't know how other people live") and a smug sense that the locals have taught you something ("They were so poor and yet so happy.")

You spent this summer breaking up fights between the boys and mowing the yard and reading stories and seeing grace in the garden, when you were awestruck by tomatoes transforming into salsa.  All from a tiny seed nonetheless.  And you were even more awestruck when Brenna learned to wave the day.  You planned units and fought off the urge to overplan.  You imagined the students you don't yet know and you had instant-message conversations with students of the past.  You experienced what it was like to stay up late talking to Christy without worrying about how tired you would be when you tried to teach the next day.

Vacation is escape.  There's nothing wrong with escape.  It has its place in life.  However, what you experienced was a sabbatical. You experienced rest and restoration.  Instead of an escape from the banality of life, you got a chance to experience the authenticity of relationships.

So call it Summer Sabbatical.  It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?  You love alliteration, so that's a bonus.

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