FROM NOW ON 9 - losing it
by Susan Weber
Last week mid-story I’d apparently accomplished a hilarious dramatic double-take, causing the cherubic four-year-old in the front row to erupt in a laughter that infected her classmates as it rippled through the room. For the first time in my storied career, I was prevented from doing my job by the volume of unconstrained mirth. Every time I tried to speak, I laughed along instead. We rode the waves like sun-struck surfers in a souped-up sea.
This moment quelled all doubt about passing my baton to the next generation. If I’m not mistaken, I had just been handed my diploma. My beloved charges will be fine taking over the show.
The teacher is learner again. In a few weeks, when I retire, the competence I felt in the classroom will be stripped away. I’ll miss the fierce, unfiltered love I've encountered in learning spaces all over this corner of beautiful Ohio. As solitary artist I’ll blink at the open page, wondering how to fill it. Who will inspire me, where will I find good ideas, how does a writer touch readers she may never see?
My best laid plan — to put in the time and give my instinct free rein — will have to grant humor and humanity permission to interlope at will.
Photo by Ray eye CC BY-SA 2.0 DE