I almost took the week off from the blog, feeling like it was one more thing waiting for me to do. But alas, I did not. The habit is strong after so many weeks. And I much prefer to end my weekend with this instead of working on my classes. Teaching again fully remotely and online means that computer time is increased, and so I find myself more resistant to doing other things requiring the screen and keyboard. But honestly, that is all one big excuse when it comes to writing, since I know that if I just sit with the work of words, I hit a groove and never regret the time.
Two weeks of the semester is done, and the reality of work always looming has begun. All the icons with numbers are pieces of text I need to read, often respond to, usually incorporate into a weekly video or notes. It's work waiting for me, a constant for most of the remaining weeks of the semester. So sometimes I need to avoid, pretend for one day, sometimes two, hardly ever three, that I don't have all this work and that I can spend hours goofing around in distractions such as mindless computer games, or wander on long meditative walks, or stare at food recipes and plan the next kitchen adventure.
And when the weather says 50 degree early spring in the middle of the winter, then I take most of the weekend off, venturing outside and walking miles with friends. Yesterday, I walked with a good friend I had not seen in person since early March, only talked to on the phone or saw briefly in a Zoom meeting, for several miles around a lake, the crisp early morning still warm enough that a hat wasn't needed. And again, the reminder that I so miss the company of friends, in person, even if we have masks, even if we can only visit outdoors, even if food and drink is not involved.
Today, I also spent hours in the outside, actually five hours away from home, which feels so unusual these days. With my hiking buddy, we walked 9.5 miles over two of the segments of the High Line Canal Trail, passing horses, beautiful vistas of the foothills, and this beauty high up in the trees. A perfect Colorado blue sky remained fairly cloudless all day, reminding me how grateful I am to live where I do and to have beauty so close to home in the city.
On this Sunday evening I am tired from the weekend walks, but a good kind of tired, the kind that reminds me I am so very much alive, even if that alive is in a time when vaccine envy will enter our pandemic lexicon. Life continues to be this paradoxical study in contrasts, holding the moment against the uncertainty, holding hope that the smallness of my world will continue to open back up, bit by bit.
Comments
Post a Comment