Distraction

I was ready for school to start. It's exciting to be working with older students. Even though it's more difficult, I find that reading about the political intrigues of the Italian Renaissance is much more enjoyable than figuring out how to teach 7-year-olds what sounds "th" makes.

But there is a different way in which I was looking forward to school. It provides me with a built-in distraction from so many burdens. I don't mean to complain because, yes, things could be a lot worse and, yes, despite my cares I am still immensely blessed. Yet to acknowledge that doesn't flip a magical switch and remove the sadness that I carry.

The story is that when Martin Luther was depressed, he threw himself into his work. I definitely think it's more desirable to do that than to sit around and wallow in self-pity. If I'm focusing on something worthwhile, something immediate, and something emotionally neutral, then I'm NOT focusing on sorrow, and pain, and loss. How can that be a bad thing?

A couple of nights ago as I was falling asleep, I was thinking about what happens when I stop and step back from my work. Where has my distraction led me? I take my head out of the sand and the crosses I bear are as real as ever. What's worse is that in using my job as a set of blinders to take my eyes off of the hurt I risk blinding myself to the good things in life. A long walk in cool twilight. New songs on the radio. Enjoying a drink and cigar on the deck with my husband. The pleasure of rambling about whatever strikes my fancy at my computer. Picking garden ripe tomatoes. The joy of decorating my house. A thoughtful gift from a good friend.

Yes, I was looking forward to school for its value as a distraction. I'm sure it will remain a temptation for me to treat it as one. But I need to remind myself that it's not worth taking my eyes off of what is important.