Mondays

Mondays carry an odd sort of stress for me. It is my habit to see days,
well at least certain days anyway, as markers or signposts along some
metaphorical time line. The start of the New Year, the start of the
semester, the start of the fiscal year, the start of the month, and even
the start of a new week—these are all fictitious landmarks that serve as a
sort of boundary to be crossed and signaling a new beginning point.
Habitually, I invest these days with a deep symbolic meaning that
indicates that it is time to check my "progress," or relative lack
thereof, as I pursue my odd collection of endeavors.

This particular Monday is carrying an unusual burden because today I would
ordinarily be starting a new semester of university teaching. Instead, I
will be enjoying a sabbatical leave for the next six months or so, during
which I will be focusing on my playing and writing. One of my students
sent me a message on Facebook earlier today asking me if it was strange to
be away from school and to know that they were starting without me. My
predictable response was that, yes, the feeling is indeed truly, truly
strange, but that I would face the challenge bravely.

So as I start this new chapter of my life that will be defined by a most
generous gift of time away from my usual routine of teaching and
administrative work, I am savoring this time of new beginning. The
projects I have designed for myself are big ones and I have enjoyed the
initial phases of planning and starting the work. Looming in the dark
shadows of my awareness is a foreboding that I probably cannot do all that
I have set out to do in the time that I have allotted. Still, I enjoyed a
quiet day working at the piano, writing letters and relishing an unusual
oasis of solitude,

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