The events listed in the timeline above span thirty-three years of my life. It's not surprising that many of my most resonant memories—from moving across the country to breaking my kneecap on the soccer field to enjoying a first date with the woman that would one day become my wife—are clustered within the summer and fall months.
My work as an educator dictates that my yearly initiations
(new classes and students, additional trainings, and changes in college policy)
typically happen in August and September; most of my memories associated with
nature take place in June, before the summer heats up and the fish hunker down
in deeper pools.
As I contemplate the next phases of my life, it’s
reassuring to note that the summer and fall months are periods of meaningful
change and growth, while the spring and the winter are generally times of rest
and rejuvenation.
In beginning the move toward teaching in a new
program at the college and working on my dissertation research, I understand
that, at least in the short term (perhaps the next five to ten years), the
summer will be a time of intense focus and study for me; this runs counter to
the traditional schedule of the educator, whose summer months are frequently
spent away from work activities.
As I near retirement and the transition into my
life’s third act, I anticipate that the distribution of resonant memories will
disperse a bit more evenly. The duties attendant to my career discourse will
become more familiar and repetitive, freeing up time to focus on other things.
The myline plots the core events that have shaped my identity and my place within culture. In reviewing it, a simple realization emerges: I still have time.
And I plan to make good use of it…
