Changes of tension and flexion
I wanted to start this off as a letter. “Greetings,” I was all set to begin. Time was people read this, but then I let it languish, as I do now and again. So I guess I don’t really have an audience to greet. But I’m picking it up again, so you lucky readers buckle in. So much change has gone on in my life these last six months. Some of it I willed to being, but some of it I allowed to happen through inertia (or lack thereof).
As of June 19th, I am a married man. It’s the internet, so if you know me, you know my wife. She’s amazing, beautiful, kind, generous, thoughtful, incredibly intelligent, compassionate, whole-hearted, nerdy… I have too many adjectives jammed at the space where the words come out to really do her justice. As we courted over the last summer and into the winter, I awakened to the very real changes that I had been wanting to make in my life, changes that she not only supported but encouraged. And I found myself not only supporting her goals and motivations, but supporting just the beauty of her existence, and all those underlying motivations and goals yet to emerge in her consciousness. As I told my parents practically the moment we began dating: she’s the one. And as we dance this dance through life, I am awed by the profundity of joy that is this life with her.
I have also completed my teaching in NC. I finished up the third year here, and I have learned a great deal about education; as the new teacher steps into my place, I am confident I have brought an academic rigor to the Latin program at Middle Creek that had been lacking before I arrived. We are looking elsewhere for jobs, as this state is clearly not interested in retaining its teachers.
And in the glorious narrative tradition of the three-topic discussion, I am about to become a father. We are expecting our son to arrive into the world around September 21st, and he’s got all ten fingers and toes, so I’m pleased as punch
As one chapter of my life closes and another opens, I am thrilled to renew my commitment to writing. I feel like my creativity had been drained from me these last few years, and it is time to touch base with the eternally-flowing font inside me. Maroon’s stories call out to be told, and life doesn’t stop for the living.