Day 5

A day of toil. For such days is this DayBook written - the seemingly insignificant, inconsequential: looking for, finding, experiencing the blessing in these.

Play while teaching. The afternoon turned towards the matter of finding new work, which has ever been a toil. The tiny first round had the potential for dismay, put off somewhat by revising my resume, playing a bit with Monster, and sending out a few queries.

That bit of toil, and then at the stove, just this sense of one thing after the other, got to get through this, got to get through that, and then Walden came in wanting to play baseball in the back yard. Pathetic responses on my part, this toil this, this toil that: time to rethink, re-prioritize: "let me finish making dinner, and then we'll go play for a while." And did: and had a good time, of course. Nice to be out in the front yard (different yard, different sport), cool air, his goofy quarterback moves, learning to use the laces, my baby being himself. Blessings? Always.

But, still a sense of separation, of feeling disconnected. I remember spending a lot of time inside myself: mulling over a student's cheating, mulling over rejections perceived, whether true or not, and most likely not at all: it just all piles on top of the vulnerability of the upcoming search.

Took a bath. Closed my eyes. Asked to feel those around me. And did. Truly, did. Did I clear enough space around me to be filled? No. Still filling the space up with too much distraction, and feeling tired to boot.

So, perhaps I need more quiet - and shudder as I consider allowing it, given how much I fill in, and with what. Things, sportsnews, Dickens, TV, noise.

Mercy. Let me be filled.