August is drawing to a close and with it the Summer of John, which is what I dubbed this--my first extended time off in 15 years, and probably the last for the foreseeable future. As the calendar turns from August to September, there is a palpable change in the air. There are the welcome cerulean days and blanketed nights of September that render the haze of August but a hazy memory. But so too does the lazy rhythm of summer give way to the more purposeful pace of autumn, as schools once again open their doors and corporate offices resume five-day work weeks.
Speaking of schools, in seminary there is a word to describe this transitional state between two worlds, which one hears surprisingly often--"liminal." Come to think of it, I'm not sure that "liminal" gets much use outside of seminary, although I may challenge myself to use it in casual conversation--that and "teleological." Here goes:
Many students today probably found themselves in a liminal space, on what was for many the first day of the new school year. Their bodies are still set to the rhythms and rituals of summer, unprepared for the early morning waking demanded by autumn. I think that the academic calendar is more attuned to the rhythm of the seasons than is the Gregorian calendar, with a seemingly arbitrary new year marked by the first day of January. It's not clear to me what is inherently new about January 1, which feels no different than December 31, except for the headaches of those who rang in the new year with too much liquid celebration.
This autumn especially marks a season of new beginnings. Close friends of mine were married this past weekend and several more will be married within the coming weeks. And, of course, Sandy and I will be facing our own new beginning this autumn. In less than 24 hours we will anxiously board an afternoon airliner bound for the Land of the Morning Calm. Life in Korea will have its own rhythm, one set 13 hours ahead of the one to which I am accustomed, but I'm sure that that will be but a small measure of the change in store as August fades into September even on the other side of the world.
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Speaking of schools, in seminary there is a word to describe this transitional state between two worlds, which one hears surprisingly often--"liminal." Come to think of it, I'm not sure that "liminal" gets much use outside of seminary, although I may challenge myself to use it in casual conversation--that and "teleological." Here goes:
Many students today probably found themselves in a liminal space, on what was for many the first day of the new school year. Their bodies are still set to the rhythms and rituals of summer, unprepared for the early morning waking demanded by autumn. I think that the academic calendar is more attuned to the rhythm of the seasons than is the Gregorian calendar, with a seemingly arbitrary new year marked by the first day of January. It's not clear to me what is inherently new about January 1, which feels no different than December 31, except for the headaches of those who rang in the new year with too much liquid celebration.
This autumn especially marks a season of new beginnings. Close friends of mine were married this past weekend and several more will be married within the coming weeks. And, of course, Sandy and I will be facing our own new beginning this autumn. In less than 24 hours we will anxiously board an afternoon airliner bound for the Land of the Morning Calm. Life in Korea will have its own rhythm, one set 13 hours ahead of the one to which I am accustomed, but I'm sure that that will be but a small measure of the change in store as August fades into September even on the other side of the world.
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Godspeed, my beloveds.
ReplyDeleteLove, Always
Mom xoxoxoxo