The last few weeks have been interesting. As I adjust to this return to reflective time, it is dawning on me that I have not stood still much in the last several years. It has been one active engagement with hands on fabric, or paper, or keyboard after another. There has been precious little time to walk, sit, think, or breathe the momentousness of any single action.
This week I have had to stop.
Not that it hasn’t been its own kind of frenetic, but instead of acting and doing, I have been forced to actively attend meetings, readings, discussions, and decisions.
This week I have had to breathe.
In order to be sure of the next steps I have had to take stock of my surroundings and attend not just to operational decisions about which thermos to buy (and then break), but which opportunities to set my sights on (and then to lose them).
This week I have had to contemplate.
What meanings can I find woven in the words of our readings? What connections can be made between my classes? How can these things inform the burning questions that light up my mind without causing a deluge of more questions?
Is the deluge of more questions so bad?