"As winter strips the leaves from around us, so that we may see the distant regions they formerly concealed, so old age takes away our enjoyments only to enlarge the prospect of the coming eternity." --Jean Paul Richter
One thing I wish I had more time to do is...write. Yes, I see the irony as I sit at my office desk at school and write. But in college, I could spend hours in my journal, scribbling pages and pages away...Now, my days are full. A good sort of full, but I miss my times of introspection. I often feel brittle and dull when I have not spent good time creating.
And typing, to me at least, does not have the same rhythm to it as writing in a journal. Seems disjointed and unconnected to me. It's faster, yes, but I like the process of handwriting to typing. Makes it all seem more official. Obviously, it's hard to explain.
I see the world differently when I write often. I observe, my senses are sharp. There is some sort of internal sigh of relief (renewal?) when I am writing. A sort-of "this is what I've been missing!" reaction.
Some of my classes have to write a poem tonight. I forgot the looming intimidation of poetry writing. Though I gave them a category, a handful of themes, it's a daunting task. I tell them, well--so is teaching. I have to work hard to stay on top of things--to entertain, to spell all of my chalkboard writings correctly, to truly see each student...this work is as difficult as poetry.
I need to remember to write. To make time for art and observation. Longfellow would be proud.