So it occurred to me today, the first day of a new semester, that my "resolutions" (such as they are) deal with setting the pace of my life, albeit in very different ways. My real goal for the year involves slowing down and living in the moment. I mean that both in terms of a general paying attention and staying focused on the present and also being aware of what can be accomplished in a moment's time (how much of my kitchen can be cleaned during the few minutes that a kettle boils to make tea, for instance). Perhaps it is because I am, among other things, a writer of poetry that I see the world primarily as a series of discrete moments rather than as a larger narrative.
And yet, this focus on the moment only happens because I *do* have that bigger picture in mind, at least to the extent that I have goals and set deadlines well in advance. I am a compulsive scheduler, to be sure. So today, before I left the office, I made sure I knew what I was doing in my classes next week, so I could take home books and make necessary handouts, even before I've done the reading for this coming class period. I might believe in the importance of staying focused on *now* (this moment of typing while the cat purrs and cozies up next to me, and the heat kicks on downstairs) but at least once a day I swim up to the surface to look at what lies ahead.
This is all obvious stuff, I suppose. But it seemed important this afternoon, in the moment I was walking to class, quickly, I might add, thinking about how important it is to pace myself to get through the semester healthy and whole.
I bought a potted crocus and placed it on my desk to look at. A harbinger of spring.
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