alone

No one is here.  Jenny and both kids are gone to cub scouts. It is such an indulgent thing to be alone. The ultimate in selfishness... no one here to take care of or consider. Just me and what I want to do. I shut down everything, television, stereo, lights, and start to let my mind consider itself.

I ride in silence in the car. No music. No talk radio. Nothing. All day long I have voices wanting me for something, getting my attention for some thing or another. Needing my help to work on or fix or just to listen. This is one of the reasons I think teachers need that big nasty vacation time. The amount of things that I deal with in one day could equal what another person deals with in a month. I need the silence. Even music on the radio seems glaring, rude... pulling me forcefully into it: pop stars selling everything for an audience.

Alone.  The clock ticks in the living room. It's a new clock. The refrigerator hums to life and shuts down. Chaucer stretches and rights himself at my feet. This house is fairly quiet. No old creaking here. We live on a very quiet street, the kind that, when someone does eventually pass by, we look to see who it is, and nine times out of ten, we know them. Our house is sparse... still looks like it is waiting to be decorated. I guess it is still waiting to be decorated. Lack of money, and skill keep it that way. It is getting dark . 6:05. I could bathe in this silence... let it wash around me.

I have often thought that I would have liked to have been some sort of skilled artisan. Someone who goes into his work place, singly, and works out his paycheck with his hands... making violins, or canoes, or something. Teaching is the opposite of this. It is crazed and manic surrounded by kids that vie for your attention. It is nice in its way, it really is, but quiet self-reflection, in my life, is about as foreign as anything could be. Sometimes I feel like some deep-sea whale... diving deep in all the pressure and only surfacing once every couple of months for a breath.