endless horizon of aspiration

I sit 
in my classroom,
lights off,
halo'd by a single lamp.

Class has just ended.

Laptop open
and some found text is 
bouncing around
in my head.

A conversation between 
Krista Tippett
and 
Rebecca Solnit.

"what if everything 
we’ve been told about 
human nature is 
wrong, ..."

Normally,
I would wait out
the day.

Save my words
for the drive home,
let them interrupt
my music,
distract my driving. 

"and we’re actually very 
generous, communitarian, 
altruistic beings..."

Funny, how the quiet
classroom feels dangerous 
somehow. 

Like the moment
just before a moment;

Unsettled arrives 
and gets settled
in. 

Can I write like this?

In empty time?

Non committed.
Not wedged
between other
moments.
As a choice?

"... who are distorted 
by the system we’re in 
but not made happy by 
it?"

A hopeful thought;
it could be 
dedicated.
It could be
a new routine.

First I 
would have
to admit
I am caught up,
completed,
box checked,
ready. 

Eschew
the guilt
of not being 
an impossibly 
over cooked
swamped teacher
at the 
moment.

Then accept the 
pause after
prep's done;

waiting
in a notable
piece of space;

peace
before the 
parking lot
empties.

No commutes
necessary,
yet.

But as I put on my 
headphones,

that will block out
most noise,

I get this itch
of dread in 
my head.

"What if we can actually 
be better people in a 
better world?"

What if
the phone
rings?

What if
an announcement
bellows?

What if
a student
catches sight
of my other 
side?

What if 
I want to shed 
the adjective,
leave 
the comparison,
drop 
the metaphor;

exit the
comparison 
between 
where I am
and what I 
should be?

"Excerpts" from On Being Podcast with Rebecca Solnit.