So Far Away - for my Cincy colleagues

* for background on this post, see No Cincy for Me This Summer

Tonight there was a message on my cell phone. I cried. I'm not there, and it hurts. Right now, at this moment, there is nowhere else I'd rather be than at the dorm rooms with these super special people who made my life so much richer. Carole King said it so well.

So far away; Doesn't anybody stay in one place any more?
It would be so fine to see your face at my door;
Doesn't help to know you're just time away;
Long ago I reached for you and there you stood;
Holding you again could only do me good;
How I wish I could, but you're so far away

One more song about movin' along the highway;
Can't say much of anything that's new;
If I could only work this life out my way;
I'd rather spend it bein' close to you;

When I left Toronto at this time last year, I was afraid of who I would be stuck with for 6 weeks - you see, I've never had much fortune with large groups of people - jealousy and insecurity are far too common ailments, and ones for which I don't have much patience. But there you were. Big smiles. Corny jokes. Open, and excited, and dedicated to the same things I hold dear. Willing to learn and teach from your experience, patient with my pontifications, generous with your time and minds, and so very much connected.

My Cincy friends, through you I learned to open up again after many years of carefully shielding myself for logical personal and political reasons. I re-learned to engage fully with my goals and the people around me. You showed me caring and affection. Through your words and your actions you showed me how you valued me, and you made it feel good to be me. I like myself when I'm with you - I think being with you at that moment really made me a better person. My time with you was a short-lived haven - a respite from the pressures and banality of a complicated life. It was indeed a cocoon, one which was preparing me for challenges I never could have expected.

I doubt I will ever have the pleasure of interacting with such a wonderfully solid and open group of people again in my life, especially in a setting as intimate and intense. We had joy we had fun... and it goes on, with or without me.

There is much I have learned through these six months of illness. Most of these lessons strengthen my passion for Montessori education, and for the work we do with our students. Many more intensify the meaning behind the conversations we shared, the challenges we faced, and the crying we did in our reflections with Marta and Barb (not to mention finding deeper meaning in Tolle and Palmer and all). Living at a limited capacity has propelled me to a whole new level on my spiritual journey, one which I'm not sure I would have been ready for without the growth and joy of last summer.

I wish I could be there to hear about your classrooms, and your students, and the pain and the pleasure of your new lives as Montessori teachers. I wish I could hug you, and hold you, and drink yet another toast with you. I will think of you these two weeks every time I take a sip of my latte or my wine, go for a smoke break, knit a row, or sing a song. I love you, I miss you, and the time we spent together will always be among my favourite memories.