Autumn. A changeable time. Spring is changeable, too, but it tends to show it’s youth in its changeability with brash rains and persistent snows. Autumn, on the other hand, is mature. Still changeable with warm days and cool nights, but there’s a dignity about the season that spring lacks. Maybe it’s the smell in the air; that aged scent of decaying leaves that makes autumn a merry but sombre event. There is time to rejoice, but there is also time to reflect.
For me, the months following summer are often a physical relief from too much heat and a happy return to school and social contact. While I’ve had only a few weeks of heat to deal with this year, I have had a distinct lack of social contact while writing, and I found myself actually pleased to get back to the classroom and see people I know.
Thursday was, as usual, a one-on-one thing (meaning the other student didn’t show). I’m not as nervous as I once was with my Thursday instructor. Perhaps it was because I didn’t get corrected on my Dutch over the summer, so I grew a bit cocky. Perhaps it was because the Dutch I do know got cemented deep into the inner workings of my brain. Whatever reason, I found myself sweating less than usual. Which was good, because our table was approached by an administrator, talking more Dutch than I could keep up with. Sheets of information were passed to me. Ah. In the time of changeability, our class is being moved. And broken up. Sad to say, but other than my instructor, I may not see the people I’ve begun to get to know in that lesson again.
I looked forward to Friday, despite being a bit anxious after finding another student’s phone number in my notebook and remembering a promise to contact her over the summer. Bad me! That notebook got tucked away in July and I completely spaced my promise. Walked into the lesson, got the ‘Cheer’s’ effect hello – Hello! (or Goede Morgen, in this case) – to find out that this lesson was also getting broken up, I was to attend the Monday lessons beginning 25 September, and after those lessons begin I’m not supposed to return to Friday lessons. Why? Monday is an advanced lesson, and Fridays are returning to ABC level. …Can’t say my teachers are wrong. I need a faster class. Still. *sigh* Same effect as Thursday. The people I got to know aren’t following me to the higher level, so my tenuous friendships will die before they get a chance to really grow.
Also wasn’t good to come home and hear my brother so down about his lesson. He’s stuck with a volunteer who’s got no idea how to proceed. Just a lot of dithering around with any actual teaching. Told my bro to ask to transfer to the Friday lesson. They’re far more structured in their approach, and they’re still on the basics. Don’t need my one real support in life to get angsty and jealous over the fact I’m learning the language faster than him.
And me? …I pulled words out of my brain I’ve never used before. Heard more, understood more… Even received a rare compliment from my teacher on my communication ability. Other than my racing brain, I could almost – almost – make the switch to Dutch. I’ve got enough to survive.
…Paid for my gym membership for September and got a whole bunch of Dutch that took me by surprise. First, I wasn’t expecting a lot of Dutch (always an issue). Second, (once again) I ran into a lot of words I hadn’t heard before. Third, I found my six month membership was up, and I was asked if I wanted to continue on another six month term. …Really? I’ve been going to the gym for six months now? I was shocked. Shocked that that much time had passed. Naturally, I signed up for another six months. The guys behind the counter grinned. Everybody knows me – by sight, at least. I’m that person that super-pushes. The one with the red face and the sweat stains. My work has paid off in strength, if not weight loss. I’m more than twice as fast as I was, three times as strong, with even longer endurance. Stairs? No problem. Run to catch the metro? No problem. My arms are gaining muscle mass and my heart is used to racing at 150 bpm. I can do these things again.
Lots on the chop block today. Exercise, shopping, cleaning, napping, baking, writing. Will not get to all of it. Will not even try. My attention span is as changeable as the season, and I won’t try to second guess myself on what I’ll do or not do.
But…and… I must admit to a fleeing wish to travel. To fly with the birds, and see autumn from above. Just…get out. When I was younger, in the states, I’d hop in my car and drive. Take any and every road that looked interesting. Never worried about where I’d end up; I always kept maps around. I just wanted to see other landscapes, breathe other air. I’ve got that same feeling on me today. That desire to go, go, go, without any real direction other than whatever takes my fancy at that instant.
So, who knows where I’ll end up, or what I’ll end up doing? Not me. The only thing I do know is that whatever I do, I’ll do it because I want to do it right then and there. I’ve got an instant gratification thing going on: think it, want it, do it.
That’s my changeable nature.