2011 Review, Part I

To focus my reflection upon the events, thoughts, feelings, challenges, successes, relationships, and blessings that filled this past year, I selected one photograph per month, using it to ground a single paragraph summarizing the same month. Given such a perspective, and the fact that I spent much of this year in my head, meditating continuously on items from the above list, single events rarely emerged as significant; rather, the flow and growth bestowed in a given month is what I tended to notice. Oddly enough, that's something I'd like to tweak for 2012... as the year taught me that there's so much more to learn from and savor in life than what I can intellectually grasp.

January 2011

Ciampi Hall, College of the Holy Cross, Worcester MA 

Each week this month brought a storm that disrupted school and threw off routines, but also offered beautiful imagery of adaptation and persistence in the natural world. Trees swayed yet held in chilly winds, drifting snow bestowed dynamic contours upon otherwise static lawns and hillsides, birds fluttered and nibbled in turn while bustling about a feeder situated for easy viewing and admiration from the expansive windows of our dining room. Amidst obstacles of climate, I did my best to train for the Boston Marathon. Within my duties as a teacher, I strove to keep my classes on track while shuffling around snow days. My chief lessons and greatest strides came from imitating the birds… be persistent, be patient, and eat well!

February 2011

Vineyard Haven Harbor, Martha's Vineyard MA

Seaworthy vessels lay anchored, gently riding an aqueous turbulence that mirrors a subtler and slower flow aloft. My own travels during this month– a 20-mile race on Martha’s Vineyard, a week visiting Jesuits and friends in Chicago– brought refreshing movement that served as a gentle counterpoint to the ongoing grind of lesson planning, teaching, and grading that felt steady but not always satisfying. The difference between a stabilizing anchor and a restricting chain was not always evident as I reflected upon my experiences of gladness and sadness, fulfillment and frustration, success and setback. The one reliable constant was a sense of steady flow, reflected in grandiose swirling of water, wind, and snow.

March 2011

College of the Holy Cross, Worcester MA

Nature’s pattern of achieving great beauty from small, fragile, humble starts annually astounds me as the first buds and blooms appear. The scale of an unfinished project, the massiveness of a shift I desire to make in my attitude and outlook, or a challenging situation in need of resolution often daunts me, especially at the outset. Though my running keeps me familiar with the adage that “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” taking that same first step, making that sort of small start, does not come as readily to my more internal endeavors. Nature’s reminders are helpful and inspiring.

April 2011

Boston Public Garden

Spring blooms. Water liberated from ice. Winds that are gentle and pleasant, rather than biting and fierce. The mellowing of nature softens a soul hardened by more than the harshness of winter.  After three and a half long months of training, my second Boston Marathon carried a powerful lesson about humility and fidelity: my friend Matt and I ran the entire route side by side, pacing each other through our respective periods of strength and fatigue, confidence and doubt, pain and delight. A drama honored by, but perhaps also hidden from, the tens of thousands of spectators whose cheers spurred us on, sustained our spirits, and guided us from humble Hopkinton to boisterous Boston. A single day that inspired an entire month.