To do:
- Lesson-plan for next week.
- Plan for observation before the end of November.Â
- Get costumes out to all members of the Dance Team before Thursday.
- Invite staff from the Quick Center to a rehearsal and script read-through.
- Get groceries before
MondayWednesday. - Election watch-party on Tuesday.
- Try to schedule some acting rehearsals before Friday?
- Create essay-format mini-lesson for Tuesday through Thursday.
- Clean room before Friday.
- Get more shampoo and face wash.Â
The list goes on and on.Â
I’m sure yours does, too.Â
But I’m not here to compare my schedule to yours. Instead, I want to focus on what I, and many others, lose out on when we always have our bodies in the present and our heads in the future.Â
As a senior, I am plagued with the constant feelings of nostalgia, confusion, dread and bittersweet “lasts” with some of the same people that I had all my college “firsts” with. Not one week goes by where I don’t complete some task or go to an event and think, “this time next year I won’t be doing x,” or any variation of that sad, but unfortunately true, fact.Â
One thing that I have tried not to let myself do is slip into the habit of jumping to what is next.Â
I am a planner at heart, meaning my mind is always trying to predict and prepare for what my schedule will look like weeks in advance. While I have definitely saved myself some anxiety and rarely feel like I am flying by the seat of my pants, this desire to think and be five steps ahead constantly puts me in a position where I am not actually living through my present timeline.Â
I have also come to realize that I might spend so much time romanticizing my past because I never lived those events while they were happening – I just existed and let them pass by. There was never any authentic experience or closure to and through good (or bad) times, so I spend my present desperately trying to go back to what was and think forward to what might happen.Â
But what I always forget is the present. I always forget to be.Â
I teach each day, but I am so worried about making sure my tone is correct and my activities are clear and my assessments align exactly and my students are all engaged and everyone is being pushed equally and I am allowing for collaboration but also not losing my control of the room and…
I go to dance every week, but I want to make sure that everything for that week is already planned for and we are announcing the correct dates and times and attire for our dress rehearsal and we’re taking attendance and I am maintaining a kind demeanor but I am not allowing the room to get out of control and I am trying to interact with each person but also cannot get side-tracked by socialization because we have a show coming up if you didn’t already know that and…
I want to make time to hang out with my roommates, but we all have such conflicting schedules and I am so tired when I get home from school and I haven’t seen Claire in two days and all I’ve been able to talk to Ellie about is Dance Team and Leah is having a bad day but I don’t know how to help her and I have barely texted my girlfriend back today and I have to work in ten minutes and it’s a Friday but I don’t have the energy to stay up and go out with them all and I want Applebee’s but I spent so much money this week and…
You get the gist.Â
So, as I sit in my living room surrounded by my roommates during our half an hour of the day where we are all home and awake, I am making a conscious effort to exist in my current timeline. I take some deep breaths, look around as we all laugh at the same joke we’ve been making since early September and enjoy the now.Â
The lists I make and the schedule I have will never vanish. But in the blink of an eye, all of this will.
And I’m not going to risk missing that.