Saturday, August 28, 2004

Anarchy in Dillards

I saw one of my favorite students this evening in Dillards. He's a scraggly artistic teen who rode his skateboard to school and loved the word "anarchy." He's intelligent but barely scraped through our class with a D-. On the last day of school, I tromped around to find him to force him to take his oral final on the five themes of developing civilization. Otherwise, he would have failed our class even though he was a high-level verbal participant. He was worth the extra effort.
Anyway, I was worn out when I saw him. Cody was on hyperactive duty and kept jumping up in front of me to try to get his hands higher than my head. He kept yelling (his normal talk is very loud) and complaining about waiting for his dad to finish looking at clothes for work.
I could barely talk to this student without fading. I managed, however, to find out that his new, junior English/history class is with my former co-teacher. Good. Sad. I'm not there.
And, now, I'm up late early morning thinking about my former blog. Hyper-dependency upon people is a bad thing; however, when loneliness strikes it's difficult not to have that desire for communication. I would love to know what's going on at school, yet I can't force someone to change (be communicative) and tell me, even though promised. Move on. This is the most difficult part. An unanswered inquiry remains. That might be that.
And, I could have found out more from my student, but my own capacity at the time was limited as well. Let it go. The flux happens.
I took the keys to the car and led Cody out of the inciting atmosphere. We sat and waited. I felt pushed into a small corner of the world, blocked out, relegated to coping, trying to be a patient person. Deep breath. My husband returned and took over.
And, now, I'm awake, vulnerable to those earlier thoughts of being shut out. Yes, being independent-of is not easy. Unmet need or desire can flare up quickly.
One side advantage to faith, though, is the awareness that there is more than only this. My cornered state of self can find an out in devotion to what's greater than my own capacity. I'm so incredibly grateful to that Spirit of largesse and understanding. Without it, I wait in the car and melt entirely. Reassurance becomes personally active, and I feebly submit to its good work. And submit, and submit. It'll be alright. Deep breath .... deep breath...
I think I can sleep again.

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