Regaining Margin

 I did my school planning for this year earlier in the summer (so that I wouldn't have to think about it during our break), and for the first time in several years, I felt enormous joy and peace with our plans.  In fact, this feeling was so overwhelming that I nearly cried a few times.  I attribute this peace to what I call the "forced pruning of the pandemic". 

In 2018, my entire life was overwhelming, and I tried hard to do my best during a hard time.

Last year, I didn't take a long enough summer break, started back to school in July, had scheduled too many extracurricular activities, and suffered serious burnout in the fall as a result. 

This year the activities fell away like flower petals, one by one, until only a few things were left. We made these changes to our schedule because my husband's oncologist has noted that we must be particularly careful.  So away went any activity where physical distancing was not possible.

Robotics (too hard to "distance" physically when building robots).  Annie's Spanish class (the teacher will space children out, but since she's only 9, it's really not essential).  Annie's US history class (ditto).  Co-op (ended because we had a couple of families move last year and our needs changed).  

We are left with Finn's Spanish class (it's for a high school credit and I think the older children will be more cognizant of physical distancing than younger kids will be), piano (which will be via Facetime for now because the teacher is immuno-compromised), violin (easily held in an open air setting), and ballet (which is also online for now).  This feels right--and it feels, more than anything else, magically manageable to me.

For the first time in a long time, I feel we will have true margin. It's a curious thing, because I'm a girl who has always valued a wide margin, lots of freedom, and less commitments.  But over the past 4 years or so, I allowed more and more good things to creep into our lives.  And they were good!  But they were too much, and last year was particularly hard for me.  I was gearing up for a lot this year, too, when our perspective necessarily shifted. But I can't say that I've been crushed by these changes. If anything, I feel a gentle relief--like a cool, soft rain after a blazing hot day.  

My little plans seemed to fall into place without stress or anxiety.  I saw that we should have time one day a week to gather together and have cookies and tea while we read Shakespeare and poetry.  I saw that we should have no problem doing our necessary subjects and also getting in a nature walk once every week or two.  I saw that I wouldn't be running everywhere, all the time.  The relief is palpable. 

We plan to start school as we used to, in the days before cancer, on the day after Labor Day, but I'm also reserving the right to start the week after that if I feel like I need a longer break. My husband and I return to UNC on Tuesday the 15th, so I may consider starting the day after that, and taking an extra week off. We'll see.  But just knowing that I am reserving the right to do this feels deliciously freeing to me, and makes me feel like I'm not rushing into the new school year too quickly.  

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I wrote all of that last week, and so before I hit "publish" I want to send out a prayer request.  My husband's uncle went into ICU with covid19 late last week, was placed on a ventilator Friday night, and is in critical condition right now.  If you'd pray for him, and for his dear wife, we would appreciate it.  He's a tennis player, quite active, so this is a surprising turn of events, and our aunt is quite beside herself since she cannot even be with him in the hospital.  She simply communicates with the ICU nurse a couple of times a day. That is excruciating for a wife who wants to be at her husband's side.

Thank you for your prayers!