Finding my balance

It has been quite the week—the loss of a job that mattered to me coming just ahead (hours ahead) of a last day of class with students I grew to love coming in the midst of submissions of two new books.  In an hour or so, I'm off to Conestoga High School, a familiar, welcoming place, to meet with the aspiring writers and their teachers who are gathering for the Central League Writing Contest.  I posted a wet-haired vlog tribute to Rachel Bing and her Zionsville sixth graders in the throes of it all (begging their forgiveness for both the hair and my mid-stream sentence shifts that left verbs on less than speaking terms with nouns) and I went dancing, because sometimes you have to. 



In the middle of the middle of everything else, I received a note from my cherished son about a paper he had written. He's not a boastful kid, my son, only one who shares his happiness, and I was elated with him, for him, after he had shared his news.  "What do you suppose enabled you to write a paper that got such a response?" I asked him.



"I think the key was that I was really comfortable with the material and therefore I know what I needed to say and what examples to use to make my argument," he emailed back. "It helps that I really enjoy what I'm learning, too."



Note to self:  Do not forget the basics. Love what you do. It might just love you back.