distracted but pleasant wanderingz

Last year at this time, I was recording an album.  After we played the same song over, and over, and over, again my friend would say: “Ehhh, we just gotta let it gel.”  Sometimes I think school is sort of like recording that album.  We do the same thing over, and over, and over again and doesn’t always look good or sound good or feel good until after we let gel.  You have to take a break to figure out what still needs working on.  It was nice to have a break from reading, discussing, and sitting in chairs this week because it meant that there was time to let things gel.  I need more gelling time.  I suppose that this is what the future is for.  What started gelling for me this week was largely unrelated to what we were doing together.  At first, I felt a little guilty for not focusing on class.  I don’t anymore.  

Today, with my eyes closed, my imagination carried me far, far away from the moment and into the past.  I was walking down a dirt road with a friend.  We were lost, but not worried.  We decided to hold hands and walk with our eyes closed.  There was lots of stumbling and giggling.  It felt good.  I didn’t want to come out of this memory when Carmen ended our walk.  When I opened my eyes to the turf field, I decided immediately that I want more dirt and hands and stumbles and giggles in my future.  I want less turf.  On the way back to English House, I was in the front of the line instead of the back.  This was unpleasant.  I like being in the back.  Always.  During this particular instance of being in the front, it felt like I was lugging everyone behind me up the stupid hill.  It was the same sensation as pulling a sled through the snow when someone is sitting in it.  

On Monday, I thought about summer.  It was hot, and this is probably part of the reason why.  I also spent the hour before class talking with my boss about how the fall has gone, and what’s coming up next, and ideas for staffing and planning summer camp.  It was great to think with him; he’s one of the best thinkers I know.  During class, I made lists in my head of the things from summer that I want to be with me always, and the things from summer that belong in the summer.  

Typically, I would have lots to say about the structure and content of the poems we read and the walks we went on.  But I didn’t pay attention in that way this week.  I let my brain gel.  It was a good decision.