The Most Wonderful Time of The Year

I finish in May, completely poured out. All the juice has dripped from this orange, not a single drop left, neither to fill a glass half full or half empty.

And then I rest. And truly, I am serious about it. I rest *hard.*

That doesn’t mean I spend weeks sleeping, but finding myself again. Learning to slow down, to shed overstimulation, and not live like it’s an emergency. Painting, reading, paddle boarding, and mostly not talking.

And somewhere between July 4 and 10, I start to feel myself soften. I think, “Oh, maybe I can do it all again.”

But here’s the key: I’ve learned not to rush that thought by burying it in tasks and lists. The idea needs time to grow roots. To grow from thought to want.

So I spend more time in the not-talking.

And when August comes, I get the list of 28 souls who will call me theirs.

I am in a very fleeting space right now, where that list is just names. I don’t know the children yet, but soon I will know the names of their parents and their pets. I will think about them in my every waking hour, and often in my sleeping hours too. I will teach them, read to them, think and make with them, and even pull out their teeth as needed.

Today, I go to prepare a place for them. I’m in the classroom today, writing names that will become my vocabulary.

Be gracious with your teacher friends. They are creating whole worlds and ecosystems in the weeks to come.

It’s back-to-school season. The most wonderful time of the year.