Thanksgiving Day

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Here we are again, in the car, it’s dreary out and early.  Unfortunately, we’re not driving across the wide states of the west, just through Illinois towards Iowa for Thanksgiving weekend.  My backside remembers the familiar curve of the passenger seat, we were living in this car only a few weeks ago.  So much has changed, and none of the change is permanent, which is a really interesting place to be.  This constant flux is a great lesson in living in the moment and seeing the great things that life offers all the time. 

To recap- I accepted a temporary teaching position at John Spry Elementary School.  I was thrown in to tame the sharks of grade 4 with zero direction or assistance.  Since that first day, to be fair, I have gotten a lot of support and recommendations.  As my coworkers started to realize that I was going to come back everyday, they began to make efforts to explain the rhythm of the school and her students to me.  It’s been a largely positive experience.  I am learning huge amounts, and I think the students are learning some.  

For the most part, I am loving being in Chicago again.  It feels a little weird to have left at all, yesterday I left school right away and was able to catch a dance class at Hubbard with Molly, it was delicious, and whet my appetite for more dancing chances to take advantage of this time.  The crux of it all is that this is such a rich time.  I am inundated with a new, very demanding job, we are living in a brand new neighborhood, I’m seeing a few massage clients to make some extra $$, and I am trying to grab the opportunities to dance and yoga whenever I can.  One top of it all, I am exhausted from teaching and acclimating to my new role.  I am overstimulated and sleepy, but so full. 

I am missing being in Cincinnati for Thanksgiving, my brothers and sister and parents are probably all sitting around making sweet potatoes and stuffing.  Actually, my dad is probably at the dining room table with apple pie ingredients all around, flour on his nose,  taking a few hours to assemble and check the recipe twice.  It’s such a great memory of mine, Dad with a hand written recipe, measuring cups and chopped apples all lined up in the order in which they are to be used.  It takes Dad a long time to make anything, but it’s always meticulous and perfectly crafted. 

I’ve never been to Iowa for Thanksgiving, and I am so looking forward to relaxing, visiting with family, and making a pie, (and riding the recumbent bike in the basement!)  Theresa’s house is so comfortable and easy to be in, and since our belongings are there, it feels more like home than any other place right now.  Our sublet in Chicago is great, Bobby is a fabulous flat mate and new friend.  Right now, he’s backpacking in Yellowstone, he’s through hiked the Appalachian trail, and is a really interesting, driven, inspiring person to spend time with.  We really lucked out. 

Side note, while we were on the home stretch of our trip, I was reading A Walk in the Woods, by BIll Bryson.  My grandmother recommended it and sent it to me and I met up with it when we were in Seattle.  Bryson writes a humorous, tender and eloquent memoir about his time and experience on the trail.  It’s definitely a process book, his end goals change with his experiences along the way.  I loved it, and I think it’s helping me with this time in my life.   Aside from encouraging in me an intense desire to hike at least a section of the Appalachian Trail, Bryson takes life lightly, sees the small bits of beauty, and revels in the intensity of his experience.  I’m trying to do exactly that.