Anticipation

Is it weird that I don't know what in the world I'm going to teach next year? If you know any of my students' parents, please don't tell them. In a way, though, I don't really want to know what. I want to savor the flavor of anticipation... of looking forward to creating something dark, something beautiful, and something deep with my students... together... I don't want to sound melodramatic, but sometimes I get tingly thinking about it.  I pray that it, next year, this "thing" we create organically, symbiotically, will be awesome.  Literally: awesome.... that outsiders will look on it with awe.  That it will be life-changing.  Not is a limelight, showy kind of way, but in a quiet, almost imperceptible kind of way.  In the kind of way that dark, beautiful, deep things take root and grow little tendrils and create a majestic pattern that you don't notice until you step back after a couple of years and look at it.  I want that.  Really badly.  I hope I remain open enough, focused enough, brave enough, to allow that to happen.