We've been home for a week.  During this time we've had our first taste of summer - literally. We have started harvesting cucumbers, zucchini, just a couple handfuls of raspberries and tomatoes, and, wait for it, two blueberries! Jam making has commenced as well: Apricot, Vanilla, White Wine and Strawberry Thai Herb.  Our lovely and creative housemate, Beth, helped with these and now we take a breather before this weekend's Plum Cardamom followed by a Tomato Sauce Extravaganza in a couple weeks.

Part of me longs to bake, dig, and organize - engage my hands and senses, leaving my academic side out of it.  Already, a whole new set of shelves were installed under our stairs. The space wasn't being used efficiently, so my activator/achiever strengths kicked in and voila, more storage. 

 

It is a wonderful way to tune into summer: Sweating over a stove at 10 o'clock at night just like both of my grandmothers once did a generation ago.  Not sure if they would've had the wine glass in hand, nevertheless, there is something calling me to this.

 

 

However, there is also something hastily beckoning me to Fall - to read textbooks, plan syllabi, and create lessons and assignments that are engaging and relevant. When I got home part of me longed to dive in but I just couldn't start, not even on jam.

I drew out a planning chart. I stacked other professors' syllabi and text books in neat piles hoping my class would just present itself in an ease-filled way. For a couple of days I just stared at the stacks of work in front of me.

Paralysis took hold.  I have been in an in between for so long, beginning just seemed daunting - too much - overwhelming. I wanted to zoom ahead to the part where it's done.  "Are we there yet?" is the question many parents are haunted by, yet I sit with myself every day asking that same question over and over again.  I hear a lot in spiritual direction: I want things to go back to the way they were - when will that happen? Why won't God do that thing like before?  What will this new season/transition/chapter look like? 

Truth is I won't know it until I live it or try it.  As the saying goes, you eat an elephant one bit at a time. Ridiculous I know, but true.  There is no going back, there is only right now. My other truth is, I really do want to savor this time, this summer, to soak it all in. Yes, even the textbooks.

As I began to ease my way in, I realized (by reading said textbooks) that I am inductive thinker. I have to see all the trees before I see the forest -- the details, the ideas, the concepts, the theories, the ingredients, the data, the pictures, the articles, the questions, the options -- then one step at a time the forest comes into focus. While others, my husband included, are deductive, seeing the forest before the individual trees -- the whole picture, the end result, the outcome, the goal. Then little bit by little bit, each tree shows itself as a part of that whole.  It makes a world of sense, not only to my working habits, but the way I order my life and the interaction of my relationships.

So I've begun my hike through. Taking small bites, not sure of the outcome yet because I right now I see one cucumber, one jam recipe, one textbook, one assignment, one day, one tree at a time... this is my summer of savoring.

If I try to think about an entire class, season or the remaining weeks sans formal scheduling I get lost, defeated, and paralyzed. My brain doesn't compute in that way -- it overloads, shuts down, and needs a reboot.

This is a summer of rebooting and I'm happily discovering a rhythm of reading and planning, connecting with friends, checking on the corn, watching the beans and pumpkins come in -- all from seed -- either tiny grains or tiny ideas. And one at a time with nourishment, patience and discipline, they are all finding slow growth.