As I journey through the forest, across the icy gurgling streams, I notice there's so many more rocks than usual to trip over. So much crusty ground. Each freeze and thaw pushes rocks up through the earth, and the ground bursts anew. The cycles of life don't stop over the winter, but they sure do slow down. Have you ever thought of the slow yet powerful changes in the rocks, the plants, the trees -- they will outlast most human lives. Maybe they carry more wisdom about the art of slow living and strength. Have you asked yourself, "What impact on the world will I have in my life? Is there something I can do every day that, over my entire life, will accumulate into a legacy?"
Worries come to mind on my rare runs these days. Will I be a proficient teacher some day? Will I be satisfied to teach indoors all the time? Do I always have to agree with my boss? Will I ever be able to find and afford love during grad school? I quicken my pace, trying to outrun my worries.
Today we celebrated Valentine's Day in third grade. A student, fresh from emigrating from Egypt, gave me a note. "You're the best student teacher in this school." The note and then the hug, that's the love that will inspire my next teaching moments.
No races in the future yet. I'm still recovering from runner's knee.