I was twenty minutes early. (I’m never twenty minutes early for anything.)
The drive in was all wide open spaces. On a highway I’ve never experienced as anything other than an impatient sea of cars, I was one of only a few eastward bound on this early Sunday morning. (I had no idea the speed limit on this road was 75!)
Starbucks in hand, because—again—early.
I wondered if this is how it feels to be the organized sort of morning person who is compulsively prepared for everything.
I was heading to my last CCIRA Executive Committee meeting, the all day collaboration-fest scheduled into regular weekend days of my life over the past seven years.
It’s not that I’m happy to be finished. These past seven years have been an opportunity to be part of an incredible team. I’ve grown my leadership skills. I’ve accomplished professional goals that have opened windows to new opportunities. I’ve given back to a community I value, impacting the learning lives of kids and educators across Colorado.
I would do it again in a second.
Strong women who make things happen, is how a fellow Past President put it recently.
I appreciate being in that club. It’s made me a better educator, coach, leader, human.
Driving in this morning, knowing this was the last EC meeting on my calendar, I felt strangely peaceful. Not emotional or dreading the end of something so important. Not itchy or anxious to put the day behind me. Ready to engage in our collective work one last time.
I love this work we do. It matters.
It’s worth the 50 minute drive out to the country, to gather and to plan forward. The company is warm, and we share agency for the leadership of an organization that trusts us at the helm. We take this responsibility seriously.
At one point, looking out the picture window of my colleague’s lovely log home, I could see the snow-topped mountains etched across the horizon, all the way from Pike’s Peak in the south to Long’s Peak in the north.
Between myself and those mountains I could see open fields stretching in all directions, dormant for the winter but somehow still beautiful in their patient waiting for spring. (Plenty going on under the surface.)
I found myself thinking about what not having this particular commitment might open up space for me to pursue instead.
I want to run in those fields, climb those mountains, touch that sky.
I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge with Two Writing Teachers Blog, because I believe that teachers of writers should be writers themselves. If you’re not familiar with the challenge and this community of writers, I would encourage you to head over to #TWTblog or #SOL20 on Twitter and check it out. In the meantime, I would love any feedback you might share with me on my posts. Thank you!