I’ve Lost That Back to School Feeling
Early this month, my husband asked what day school started.
“I have no idea,” I told him.
Why would I? My kids are adults and my grandchild is too young for kindergarten. For decades my life revolved around the school schedule. Now it just means that I time my errands so I don’t get stuck behind a school bus.
How I used to love this time of year, with all the markers of fresh starts — the hint of cool air, the spanking new school supplies, the pretty new sweater. Everything was infused with possibility and sparked energy.
I felt it as a kid and I felt it as a mom. Through most of my career as a journalist, I felt it — story ideas came fast and furious in the fall, and I was particularly psyched to tackle challenging new work.
The school calendar dictated my rhythm, and served as a proxy for several stages of life.
Fall feels different when you’re older. The obvious metaphor is the changing of seasons, and we all know that winter, aka death, follows the beauty of the changing leaves. The once invigorating air turns bone chilling.
But what was really troubling me this year was that I didn’t feel my usual fall rush of productivity. I’m barely working — just the occasional assignment. Nor am I volunteering. Participating in my…
