Two Saturdays ago, my family and I painted our home office, its previous color a tired butterscotch. Before lunch, the four of us almost finished the first coat of a refreshing light blue, but we needed another gallon. I volunteered to pick up another can of paint at one of the local home-improvement stores.
While my “day job” is being a professor, and while I write in pockets of time throughout my week, I am also an editor. I edit the literary journal The Windhover, having just released the eighth issue. Beyond editing the journal, I have worked as a line editor on book projects, the most recent of which is the newly released Faith in the Shadows: Finding Christ in the Midst of Doubt by my friend (and my pastor), Austin Fischer.
As a part of the 30-day phone detoxing that I underwent last month, I typed a list of activities I enjoyed, a list to aid me as I gained more time as a result of using my phone less. What things might I do with that extra time? One of the first things I listed was play piano.
It was 100 degrees on Friday afternoon when I was discussing with a colleague one of my favorite books: Silence in the Snow Fields, by the Minnesota poet Robert Bly.
He and I had recently agreed to start a mini reading group, as in the two of us. We wanted to pick things that one of us enjoyed and wanted to share with the other. I thought of Bly’s 1962 book, and I excitedly texted my friend.
The start of another school year always invites and compels me to reflect on my career. Today, for example, I begin my 16th year of teaching college English, my 7th as a professor at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. Yet as a freshman in September 1995, I did not dream of being an English professor; rather, I wanted to be a professional rock musician. (No lie.)