I'm supposed to be writing a lesson plan about Bartok and fashioning it so that it can be delivered by one of my graduate assistants in class on Wednesday. I should have had it to her last week. However, life got in the way and I didn't. I've promised it to her tonight. It will be delivered on time.
For almost a decade I've talked in this blog. There was a time when I wrote nearly every day. I had been silent for a very long time. It was as though someone opened the floodgates and from that point, the words would not stop.
In the past three months, however, I'm feeling a need to stop talking. This is not a churlish desire to garner attention-- I really don't want that. I am uncomfortable in the limelight of my own story, my own thoughts. I have always believed that what I say has importance to me, alone.
My conversation now, has become a recitation of my experiences teaching classes this semester. I hide behind those words. What I want to say will not come out. Something stops it. The days of being open, of sharing who I am, seem to be coming to an end.
I could blame my busy life, except that in the past decade I have made time to practice closeness with other people, and my life is no busier now than any other time. I could blame stress, but I have definitely had more stressful times. I suppose the truth is that I'm just ready to stop talking.
There have definitely been some events that have led me to this place, but those are really irrelevant, and very likely foolish imaginings on my part. Regardless, in looking at the whole picture, silence seems the best course of action.
And so tonight, to any readers who have come and gone, and to those who valiantly remain, "In case I don't see you-- good afternoon, good evening and good night."