It’s been a while since I’ve last had a chance to write here. That’s (apparently) what school does. But to update you briefly, the money is not an issue anymore (thank you, Federal Government).
This is my last year of school in the immediately foreseeable future, and it’s so far been a blast–a hectic, wild, busy, “just gotta keep truckin'” blast.
Part of this wild new semester is an endeavor in student teaching. I’m the TA in an upper-level Church History course at a local university, and part of this job includes your not-so-standard contract. This contract requires (among other things) that I outline my plans for self-care. Because we all know what well-meaning people get when they do nothing but pour themselves into a job they care about: burnout.
Let’s just say that I seized the opportunity to cultivate a daily meditative prayer practice. Each morning, I take 3 to 5 minutes to just sit. I light a candle, and I sit before my open windows looking out into the world from my safe haven of an apartment. This morning, I began reading a reinterpretation of the Psalms that I have come to love, and I was somehow able to carry the first verse with me throughout the day… “Give thanks to the Beloved, and open your hearts to love.” Doesn’t sound like the King James, doesn’t even sound like the New Revised Standard Version. It just sounded right.
And throughout the day I would repeat this little refrain to myself as I walked between classes, to my car, when I waited at a red light, when I sat at my desk and filled out paperwork in the office. This little refrain kept me thinking about all the things about which I am grateful, and reminded me that love is available if only I open my heart to it. It made my hectic, wild, busy day stronger and more centered. It was a word that stayed with me.