Mondays and Weekends

Quite often the weekend comes, and goes, and then the new week arrives with me at work.  My colleagues often ask me what I did on the weekend, but too often I cannot remember!  I often wonder why the weekends seem to fade so quickly from memory.  Perhaps it is something to do with the fact that the expectations that others have of me are so different at school and at home.

On the other hand, the classroom and the playroom are not so different for the teacher who is also a parent.  For one thing, I believe that love should be evident in the classroom, and not only in one's family.  Similarly, I not only watch my son grow up, but I have an active hand in how he grows up; it is up to me to open his eyes to the world, and I try to guide his energy in positive directions in which he can learn and experience the excitement of learning.

There is another twist to this question of different modes of being associated with our workday or off-day behavior, too, for if my memory of my weekend come Monday is often less than vivid, the memory of my weekday existence is usually far from mind on Saturday.  I would like to think that I am on the edge of a Buddha-like ability to "be there" for others and to focus on the here and now, as opposed to being merely on the way to senility.

All joking aside, one could, with the pessimists, descry the fragmentation of "modern life"; it is probably preferable, though, to be grateful for the different experiences that life offers, and to enjoy them as they come. For these, I am thankful.

There is one specific remark I can make, though: one of my frequent weekend activities is taking pictures, and that was not a success this weekend where my subjects were moving people; there's only so much one can do with a 2.5 megapixel camera!