Monday, October 02, 2006
A Fast Day
Yom Kippur has come and gone, but for the first time in three years the classes I had today were not cancelled. I guess that's just one of the many differences between the public school system and the realm of elite academia; the show must go on here come hell, high water, and most holidays, be they federal or otherwise. Although that brings up Old Ivy's tradition of a fall break, which I will discuss at length when the time draws nearer.
In any case, the name of the game today was repentance. So, as has been my custom as an undergraduate, I participated in the traditional fast from sundown yesterday until sundown today while simultaneously attending classes and a departmental seminar. This would have been much more bearable if I didn't have to give a presentation on an influential history work in my life (I chose Connections by James Burke) in my morning class, and if that class did not provide its regular spread of delicious-looking sandwiches around noon. As it was, by the time the aforementioned seminar rolled around, my stomach was growling loudly enough for other people to notice. It was rather embarassing, but fortunately the discussion of that afternoon's paper (regarding the role of women astronomers in the late 19th century), was heated enough that my hunger pains could be ignored by all.
Unfortunately, I didn't leave much time in my day for reflection and repentance. This was partly deliberate, in the sense that if I paused to reflect, I probably would not have been able to motivate myself to go to any of the other things I had to do during the day. I would not be surprised however, if part of the motivation behind this was a subconscious desire not to reflect on the things I did wrong (and the things I did right) during the course of the year. Because let's be blunt...I did not have a blame-free year, especially where Underwood was concerned. There were times I treated my students harshly or overreacted to staff members. There were times I disregarded my friends and families or lashed out at them when the going got rough and I was too angry at myself to think straight. And this is ignoring the relatively minor incidents with people whose names I don't even know. (I wonder if pub trivia bouncers even read this blog. Not likely...) All in all, not a perfect year for the Invisible Ben.
But despite my lack of conscious refleciton on the subject, if Yom Kippur can teach me anything, besides the limits of my own physical and mental endurance during a full day of highly intellectual conversation and without the benefits of nutrients or hydration, it is this...there is always room for improvement. Sure, I may have screwed up. I might have lost my temper or crossed several fine lines in my attempts to be funny. But I'll be damned if I'm going to say that's the best I can do...I quit...I'm done. Yom Kippur isn't about suffering for the sake of suffering. It's about the hope of doing better.
So, just to clear the air here. If I wronged you somehow this past year...I'm sorry. I'll try to do better.
And if somehow I didn't wrong you...well, consider this an apology in advance for anything I may do later. Hold on to it tight. Put it in your sock drawer or something. I'll remind you about it in about one lunar year.
Yom Kippur has come and gone, but for the first time in three years the classes I had today were not cancelled. I guess that's just one of the many differences between the public school system and the realm of elite academia; the show must go on here come hell, high water, and most holidays, be they federal or otherwise. Although that brings up Old Ivy's tradition of a fall break, which I will discuss at length when the time draws nearer.
In any case, the name of the game today was repentance. So, as has been my custom as an undergraduate, I participated in the traditional fast from sundown yesterday until sundown today while simultaneously attending classes and a departmental seminar. This would have been much more bearable if I didn't have to give a presentation on an influential history work in my life (I chose Connections by James Burke) in my morning class, and if that class did not provide its regular spread of delicious-looking sandwiches around noon. As it was, by the time the aforementioned seminar rolled around, my stomach was growling loudly enough for other people to notice. It was rather embarassing, but fortunately the discussion of that afternoon's paper (regarding the role of women astronomers in the late 19th century), was heated enough that my hunger pains could be ignored by all.
Unfortunately, I didn't leave much time in my day for reflection and repentance. This was partly deliberate, in the sense that if I paused to reflect, I probably would not have been able to motivate myself to go to any of the other things I had to do during the day. I would not be surprised however, if part of the motivation behind this was a subconscious desire not to reflect on the things I did wrong (and the things I did right) during the course of the year. Because let's be blunt...I did not have a blame-free year, especially where Underwood was concerned. There were times I treated my students harshly or overreacted to staff members. There were times I disregarded my friends and families or lashed out at them when the going got rough and I was too angry at myself to think straight. And this is ignoring the relatively minor incidents with people whose names I don't even know. (I wonder if pub trivia bouncers even read this blog. Not likely...) All in all, not a perfect year for the Invisible Ben.
But despite my lack of conscious refleciton on the subject, if Yom Kippur can teach me anything, besides the limits of my own physical and mental endurance during a full day of highly intellectual conversation and without the benefits of nutrients or hydration, it is this...there is always room for improvement. Sure, I may have screwed up. I might have lost my temper or crossed several fine lines in my attempts to be funny. But I'll be damned if I'm going to say that's the best I can do...I quit...I'm done. Yom Kippur isn't about suffering for the sake of suffering. It's about the hope of doing better.
So, just to clear the air here. If I wronged you somehow this past year...I'm sorry. I'll try to do better.
And if somehow I didn't wrong you...well, consider this an apology in advance for anything I may do later. Hold on to it tight. Put it in your sock drawer or something. I'll remind you about it in about one lunar year.
