awakenings

my love told me to watch this movie, an old movie, with robert de niro and robin williams. it struck me as the kind of movie that screams wake up and live your life.

i was comforted by the fact that i do feel i live my life. that i'm paying attention. that i'm feeling it. could i do more. of course, everyone can. but in terms of loving those in my life, i certainly do that.

in each of my classes this semester i would get images of the faces of those who sit before me and feel an obligation to them, to do right by them. and i tried to engage them. to respond to that calling.

as one class ended thursday, i got a hug, a few,

hope to see you agains,

one,

i hope you're teaching my next class,

and it was nice to know that there was mutual regard. the backward glance over the shoulder of a young person is significant.

i spent the better part of my semester sitting across the table from the kids in my writing course. the way i teach i engage them and their writing one on one. i look into their eyes. i listen to them. i read their words and ask,

what are you trying to say.

by explaining it to me, i can usually help them navigate their way there. it's the ones who don't know what they are trying to say that i have the most difficulty helping cross that cavernous void of wordlessness.

one young man would arrive late, fall asleep in class, and was generally out of sync. but when i found out why, i couldn't help but respond to him. he worked the night shift, then slept for a couple hours, then attended classes all day. he was trying to change his stars.

more than once, as i can see his eyes before me now, did i sit with him and say,

tell me.

and he did. he spoke softly.

i'm not entirely sure why people enter our lives.

a woman i know very well uses this phrase which i've tried to incorporate into my repertoire,

an abundant exchange of energy.

what does that mean. i'm not entirely sure. in a moment by moment exchange it could be thirty cents for the copier or twenty dollars for a cd, or my book for yours, or just presence. attending to one another's lives in whatever context we might find ourselves.

looking back over the semester i wonder if i served them well. i'd like to think i did the best i could. that i genuinely showed up. i trust that when one person actually engages others are obliged to or leave. the weight of actual presence has that repelling factor to it. if i can't show up for you, i won't. i will leave. that is how i experience it anyway. so when another does persist. slogs through the mundane to meet for an abundant exchange of energy, the other must reconcile that presence. or walk away.

walking away is one way to deal with it. but i hope to engage those eyes again next semester. the questioning, the bored, the delighted.

and i trust those that stay will meet me with their presence.

for an abundant exchange of energy.