December 6 – Make.

What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

Last thing I made was a pillow for H a couple of weeks ago.  I took out the sewing machine, some leftover fabric, and an assortment of spare buttons.  I finished it, but it looks like crap.  It’s currently collecting dust bunnies on top of one of the shelves in our home office.  I’d like to learn how to knit, if I had time.  I need to take a class, because I’ve found I can’t learn how to do these things from books.

December 5 – Let Go.

What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

I let go of the silly idea (delusion) that I have control over my life.  I am more OK this year with the fact that I can’t have a plan for my life…and that things that I have planned for myself might not work out, and be replaced instead, with something equally (or more) awesome than what I had intended originally.

December 4 – Wonder.

How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

I did this in a couple of different domains.  First, of course, I cultivated wonder through the lens of my 2-year-old sidekick.  Every new experience or sensation was sort of re-experienced by me through watching H grapple with the newness of everything around him.  It would be impossible to *not* cultivate a sense of wonder when you have a new soul in your midst.  Secondly, I tried to cultivate a sense of wonder in my students, and also in me, as I explored uncharted territory with my teaching, or as I familiarized myself with new ideas and concepts across my discipline (and others).  In all, though, I’d have to say that the sense of wonder cultivated through H is far more powerful and real than anything academic I’ve encountered to date.

December 3 – Moment.

Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

This is a tough one.  I think the best moments (I can’t pick only one) were moments spent with H and R.  The hiking I did with H this year was spectacular; it was such a wonderful feeling to spend time with H, doing something that we love, working our butts off (literally), to end up with breath-taking views from the top.  Some of the special moments I had with H over the summer included some of the hikes we did just the two of us.  It felt special to have that time with him where I was the only person in the world that mattered to him, and I was all he needed in that moment.  I loved watching him make progress on the trail, learn what the blazes mean, and get excited for a well-deserved picnic break.  I hope he takes these types of moments with him into the future and cherishes these kinds of experiences in nature, surrounded by beauty, and the one person in the world who would do anything for you.

December 2 – Writing.
What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?

My job doesn’t contribute to my writing.  My job keeps me so busy that I don’t have time to blog anymore.  I don’t fancy myself a particularly skillful writer, nor do I have designs on ever becoming “a writer” per se.  I write because I think it’s a useful tool for self-reflection.  It’s a means to an end for me.  I don’t do much writing in my current job (I don’t count the untold e-mails that I send each day reiterating my attendance and grading policies), although I would relish the challenge of authoring a textbook in my field, or articles related to higher education issues.  I would not have time to embark on a project of this magnitude unless I was on sabbatical, which I wouldn’t qualify for until the year 2017.

Can I eliminate what doesn’t contribute to my writing?  Am I being asked whether I can eliminate my job?  The answer is yes, I *can* eliminate my job.  I am completely capable of quitting my job when my contract is up (in June).  But I won’t quit my job.  I can’t bring myself to do it.  And I don’t know why.