I woke up at 5:00 this morning to work on a writing project.  This feels like first time I actually wrote words, sentences, and paragraphs for this "writing project."  Up until today, my work has been mind-mapping, sketching, outlining.  All good work, but now the real, hard work begins.  I wrote for roughly an hour and a half.  Moving back and forth between sections, no real focus.  I just wrote.  I realized this going to be a lot like running (as is most things with me).  I am out of shape.  I can't keep my mind focused nor my fingers moving.  I just have to accept that stamina will come as long as I commit to chiseling out time and setting a goal for each session.

Tomorrow, define felt difficulty.

2 Days of Field day

After 10 years I've finally realized I'm a parent who enjoys the small activities my children do. I've just completed two days of field day, and despite the heat, the lag time in-between events, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. No great insights; just another day as a dad.

prayer and job search

don't ever end your cover letter by stating, "I look forward to how the Lord might use me to contribute to your campus." 'Nuff said.

Round and Round

I taught Simon how to ride a two-wheel bike today. All he needed was for me to get him started, and away he went winding through the alleys in our neighborhood. I jogged behind him as a new world began for him. I tried to keep up, but he kept going faster. I watched as my new world unfolded. I'm not needed quite so much. My children's beginnings become my endings. I guess that's the way it's supposed to be.

Droppin' dimes

A student walked into class today after missing a week and a half of class. Since a super-majority of students has attended class regularly since the first day, it didn't so much bother me that he had been absent. Besides, he was the student on the first day who made it clear that he had to be the smartest student in the room. (I don't much care for that type of student.) Needless to say, I didn't miss him a whole lot.

The student pulls me aside and apologizes for missing class. Further he goes on to tell me that he meant no disrespect, and that his absence were due to a very sick relative. He looked at me with tear scarred eyes. I paused, and told him that he didn't need to apologize to me; he only had to hold himself accountable. I quit teaching high school 5 years ago because I don't want students droppin' dimes about their lives to pad excuses.

Chasing shadows

Simon turned four on Sunday. I hope he can always find wonder in the small things

The Pick and Choosen One

I'm tired of buddha. I don't know the man; I kinda know the myth, but I have no idea about the dogma. I'm tired of buddha not because he's done anything to me, but I'm not sure I trust the newly converted. These now semi-devout buddha mediatationist will rail against the born-again christians whose social-conversative-moralistic-homogenic politics are short-sighted. But wait, didn't these new openned-minded practitioners of the eight-fold path become born again. They embrace suffering and say we should as well. They say this with an aloof smile and a rolled-up name-brand yoga matt tucked between their arms and torso. Hell if they want to suffer, they could spend an afternoon with me.