It’s a day of fasting, and I’m eating my mother’s homemade chicken soup. Â No, I haven’t gone all mavericky. Â The sad truth is that I’m sick with something that feels an awful lot like the flu. Â It really stinks. Â I’m feeling better than I did Monday afternoon, when I had chills that literally made my teeth chatter, but I’m not out of the woods yet. Â So this post will be short, possibly rambling, and probably not up to my usual standards.
But then — this is a day of letting go, right? Â It’s a day of reminding ourselves of our own mortality. Â It’s a day of reminding ourselves that we like to think we have everything all tidy and in control, and yet we really don’t. Â That’s all an illusion. Â In a weird way, being sick on Ash Wednesday is a great way to really feel the true meaning of the day. Â It’s especially true when you are a teacher, and you end up having to scramble to create sub plans that are a far cry from what you’d planned to do. Â So much for the longterm lesson planning, which will now have to be revised when I get back to school (whenever that is — hopefully soon).
So even though I’m eating meat today, I think I’m observing Ash Wednesday in a particularly potent way. Â Go figure.