All around me the revelry has begun. The counting of the days dipped into single digit numbers, and all is suddenly supposed to be well. Yet under the surface, my ears detect another theme, one less serene and mayhaps even baroque. There's so much to do, so much to do. Isn't there always?
Yes, assessments were due today, our fifth graders must put on a show tonight, our time as teachers to be none other than Mom or spouse seems once again cut short. With this thought I detect yet another undercurrent, one more subtle at first, but that grips and pulls at my balance with unseen tendrils of force. Work to contract, work to contract goes the refrain. I look to my mentor with untested eyes of praise and admiration. There are things to be done, and no fifth grader ready to bloom waits for the undercurrent refrain. Sure, there's much to be done, there always is, but this is their time, their week, their future in our hands. So, we choose to dance, to place our steps in rhythm with a different tune. It reminds me of why I chose this calling to adhere to.
And so, tonight, let there be Shakespeare! The rest is but a strange, midsummer night's dream.
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