Jennifer A. Chin (cswallow) wrote,
Jennifer A. Chin

The balance

A day after the snow, I watch cars trundle gingerly over the icy roads. In the clear morning I went for a walk. The streets, normally too busy with traffic to make for good strolling, were calm, quiet. The snow on the shoulder was crisp, dry, good footing over a layer of slick ice. Trees with their winter bones on show seemed fragile despite the strong sunlight playing over them. I stopped, once, to listen to a towhee calling. Again, to watch the cold tumble of creekwater beside snowy banks. I had not walked before, everything was new.

A steady throat tickle, left over from the heady cold I had been fighting for days, reminded me I ought to return indoors, so I went.

Hours slip past this morning. I bumble about, eat a bowl of cereal, make an ineffective show of tidying my desk. An acquaintance posted photos from his trip to India - I browsed slowly, drinking in the colors, trying to look deeply into the eyes of the people he had captured and understand, if only for an instant, their heart. Something tumbled down inside of me.

Today, I want for creation. I tire of taking in knowledge as I do in the classroom. I desire the feel of putting knowledge forth, of being the engine. Have I lost sight of what matters? Is being a student necessarily a position of taking?

For the first time I feel that the more I try to live for myself, the less I become. In my younger days, I often heard that I was "too nice," and that I gave too much.. indeed I felt sometimes that I lived only to please others. I aged, I did more only for myself, and now perhaps I have fallen too far the other way. I have not yet been satisfied with my impact, here.

These are good thoughts, for a snowed-in day. I am caught with them, wrapt in them, pondering.
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