The paper formations in here arose through decades of accretion, in the manner of sedimentary hills in the desert. When you begin picking at them there will be rubble everywhere. There is rubble everywhere. It is exhausting, and looks even worse now than when I began deconstructing, but I am determined.
Taking a break now I’m thinking of a recent chat with a narcissistic chap I once knew. I don’t say that in a judgmental way, this fellow is warm, and intelligent, he smiles and has a sense of humor. He just has a tremendous need to be heard. I get all this, I really do– the human condition and all that. It just became hard to spend time listening to his stories. One dinner too many in an excellent restaurant to the soundtrack of one too many finely detailed stories about the complete lack of respect he was shown at a five star resort he went to in Arizona. It was exhausting, Sekhnet felt the same way. Nothing against the guy, but not much in it for someone who likes a good conversation with a little back and forth to it.
Had a call from him out of the blue about a week ago. He asked with genuine concern how I’d been, how Sekhnet was doing, what was going on with my program. I said we were fine and told him the program itself is good to go, 100 workshops, worked smoothly everywhere we did it, curriculum written, many lessons learned, untapped potential, all ready to go. Told him how I need to pitch it to DiBlasio’s After-School Czar, get it in a few schools as a pilot program. Hire and train a few people, once I get some funding. Got to complete the pitch I would ideally be creating with a team of like minded people. But doing it alone, it takes a long time, I told him. I need to recruit a few people in Social Work graduate programs to work with me. That and a business person since and I have no experience selling, pitching, closing. It’s a little frustrating, I admitted, taking care to maintain the cheerful tone I’ve learned to have when I speak of it.
He took a beat. I knew he was dying to tell me about his plans for his next fabulous vacation. But he paused to find the right words. Then he compassionately said “it’s a good thing you’re not a drug addict…”
“So, in February I’m going to Buenos Aires, for a week or so,” he continued cheerfully, “then on to Cape Horn and Antarctica.”
I decided pretty soon after that call that it’s probably time to tackle the desk, kitchen table, these boxes piled along the walls. Once I make some progress in that seemingly impossible task I will be readier to tackle the next one.