1. I haven't written in 3 weeks because I'm in the middle of a lot of basketball games, about 350 pages a week of British Lit for grad school, and a mountain of guilt about not spending much time with any of the people important to me in my life (especially the kids). Basketball is not going well. I'm merely getting by in my grad classes. My kids and wife get my leftover energy. I haven't talked to many friends/family in months. I've been sick. I just didn't have it in me to post insightful commentary in the midst of a life not well-lived.
2. The most uncomfortable place to be when one is not living the life one wants is church. I squirm every Sunday, fidgeting with nervous energy as I face all that I should be doing and want to be doing, but don't do. I think and pray and praise and learn for an hour, all things I love to be doing. And the whole time I know I'm putting a cap on this, that I have only an hour a week for all of this, that I'm committing the folly C.S. Lewis wrote of - making mud pies in a slum when a holiday at the sea is offered. It is the most uncomfortable, yet also the most important place to be. Without it, I might forget all together the offer of the holiday.
3. Losing is not fun. Ever. I've seen a lot of losses this month. No blame - just a really tough stretch. Is it foolish that I feel like basketball is the one commitment I have that I can experience victory in right now, and it's the commitment in which I have the least control?
4. I am what I hate - a survivor. I fully intend to simply survive the next 5 months. I am a person who is saying that I'll do this or be that or gain happiness when . . . Fill in the blank. For me, it's July. Graduate at the end of June. July = peace, if I'll allow it for myself. Till then, I survive. This is not how I drew it up, but I can't quit now. In 5 months I start to live again. In 5 months I start attempting to resurrect all the relationships I've neglected. Until then, well, Charlotte Bronte and Charles Dickens are my closest companions.
5. Coaching is still fun. Studying is still fun. Teaching is still fun. Right now, though, I'm tired.
6. When I'm not writing, I'm not thinking. When I'm not thinking, I'm not living. I haven't written in 3 weeks. And I barely remember any of those 21 days.
7. Yesterday I spent the day with my folks, my wife, and my kids (and a little with Jane Eyre). It was a good day.
8. In 36 days I depart with my wife on a cruise to celebrate 10 years of marriage. For five days, to hell with British Lit and checking papers.
With 30 spare minutes and a desire to post, I didn't know what else to write other than the truth. Sometimes truth is more than fact (I have a million blessings); it's also fatigue and emotions (see above). Hope it's not as whiny as I fear it to be. It's not pretty, but it's real. Thanks for listening.
Someone needs a shore lunch
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