Whew. I’m home. I’m home from camp at the end of a long and eventful summer.
It is now noon on Sunday, August the 22nd. The sun is only now beginning to parse the clouds over my apartment. I’ve got “A Prairie Home Companion” on in the background, a re-re-broadcast of some episode from nearly a year ago. My dog, against my wishes, is napping on my bed. In the distance I can hear the crazy neighbor’s crazy dog bark at passers-by. My space is clean, save the dishes in the sink and the laundry in my closet. It feels green in here, surrounded by plants, warm, like home. Home.
What a summer it’s been. I could, if you were of a longer attention span, talk for hours about everything I’ve done this summer, all the lessons, all the things I’ve gone through and all the growth, all the stories, all the inside jokes. I could, at the least, give the highlights. I could at least remind you of the need for community, for friends, for family which connect us to who we are, who we hope to be, and where we’re headed. I could remind you to be thankful for what you’ve got, that you are reading this from a space far more comfortable than the six-foot square cell of my students out at San Quentin who, despite that six-foot square cell, still feel free and grateful and open. We could talk about letting go and moving on. We could talk about the need for parents to take greater responsibility in actually parenting their children. We could marvel at the way these same children soak up everything. I could tell you about the fifteen-year-old Ramones fan I told to go out and buy a Fugazi record. I could talk about any of these things for days on end. And I pause.
No. Instead I’ll simply check in with my readers at the tail end of this long and eventful summer and say that if I take anything away from this time in my life it will be the need to stay true to one’s heart, one’s direction, one’s purpose in life. I know you know why you’re hear. We all do. All you need do is sit for a moment and listen. Be still and listen.
An eventful summer is going to push me headlong into an amazing autumn. I can feel it.