Dreaming Big

By J.A. McDougall

Autumn has always been my true New Year. Its hopeful mood inspired resolutions and possibilities especially when I was a student, but also in later years since I’m fortunate to live with a passionate teacher.

Each morning, as I walk my children to the bus, I try to hang on to promising fall feelings. Seasonal earthy scents and leaf crunching sounds stir elementary school memories: well-rested smiling teachers, the scrubbed faces of old friends framed in back to school haircuts. Temporarily flawless workbook covers and neat binders they carry home at the other end of the day remind me of my enthusiasm as an older student, when it was time to get back to learning following months of mind numbing summer jobs.

Now that I’m the parent of students, cluttered days threaten to spoil my favorite season. I still feel the excitement of the student around new teachers, new classmates, new shoes, and I still perceive the wonder of a student presented with novel activities and situations, but now I’m also responsible for keeping the student clean and clothed and well behaved, in spite of early morning scrambling, hectic evening routines, and an endless cycle of arguments about television and homework and bedtime.

At no other time of the year is the demand to be organized and proactive greater. There are schedules to mesh, carpools to arrange, homework habits to encourage, nutritional snacks to create, and the (seemingly) momentous fashion choices between corduroy and denim. And let’s not forget all the expenses which start in late August with school fees and sports registrations, continue with October fundraising schemes, right through to holiday spending at Christmas.

Last week, the physical results of fall pressure began for me: jaw cramped with TMJ tension, headaches from too little water, short cut meals and nonexistent exercise, lower back tight with anxiety. I had to wonder, why must I miss out on the gifts of autumn?

To make matters worse, the urge to plop onto the couch with a junky magazine, or play a childish memorized piece on the piano, or pick up an old knitting project seizes me whenever I feel overwhelmed. Procrastination has officially arrived.

Of course October isn’t the only month I put off what I should be doing and it cuts both ways. In summer, when I finally locate a perfect two hour segment of quiet time to write, I have the urge to scrub a toilet or weed the garden.

My desperate need to escape responsibility this fall resulted in something wonderful this weekend: a rare BIG idea. Three characters appeared in my mind chattering about their lives and teasing me with their back stories, possible plot lines for a tangle of relationships, their husbands, their professions, their kids. I can’t get rid of this trio and I haven’t the time to sit down and have a proper chat, pen in hand. I dreamt about them last night until they finally woke me at 2:00 to get up and type out their thoughts. I begged off, promising I’d be free of the fall rush soon.

My imagination has come to rescue me. Just when I thought the hectic new routines had squeezed it out, it arrived to provide respite. The imbalance of my schedule ensured I was not left out this year. In autumn 2006, inspiration has found me too.

You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star. ~ Nietzsche