A few weeks ago, a friend said to me, "You have no poetry in your soul."
Now, it's important to note that all I can remember of the details of the conversation (besides the stinging indictment) is that we were disagreeing on something that we often disagree on, my friend has a different way of relating and filtering than I (express extreme emotion first, consider compromise or smoothing things over later; she's a fighter by nature and I'm a mediator or peacemaker), and I felt confident that she was wrong - both about the issue and about my soul. Whatever having poetry in it means, I'm pretty sure I do have at least a little. I laughed it off, we moved on to the next topic and we're all good. No hard feelings.
But as my two faithful readers have called for a Return of Rini to the Blog, I find myself reluctant to post. Because I'm not feeling any poetry in my soul. I'm pretty sure it's there. But, it might be on leave or sabbatical this year.
I'm teaching a 25% overload, chairing a department with two new faculty who - wonderful and talented as they are - need quite a bit of assistance, and advising untold groups and individuals. I just committed to teaching Sunday School (high schoolers! I can barely deal with college age kids sometimes!) for the first time in my life. My cat's having almost daily seizures. My gazelle glider exercise machine squeaks intolerably. My brakes are almost completely gone on my car, and my bank accounts are even more so.
And, last week on four separate occasions, four individuals said to me - in different words, but this same general gist - "Wow. You're making remarkable mistakes. I'm surprised at how disappointing your work has been so far this year." Two students, two administrators. A Disappointing Rini Sandwich.
And since I honestly don't want the blog to be a Complain-fest, I've been waiting for the poetry to peak its head out in my soul. Plus, really, who's reading besides my sister-in-law and mother, anyway, and you can call to see how I'm doing. :-)
P.s. the leaves are starting to turn beautiful orange and burgandy colors outside my office window and on the drive to school in the morning.