I definitely sabbaticaled

It’s October, and I am back home now, over the jetlag, unpacked, caught up with the laundry, and very much in awe of how much cutlery I seem to own. And bowls. I have a lot of bowls.

The best part of being home after nearly nine months on the road with a very limited wardrobe selection is standing in front of my open clothes closet, thinking: I can wear any of this stuff!

When you have been away and then you return to all your old stuff, it becomes new stuff.

Classes are up and running at Temple University, and I am very much back in the swing of teaching. As ever, I have a ton of work and meetings, and my students are all very interesting, with lives full of dramatic reasons why their papers are late.

But something pretty nice has stayed with me since the sabbatical ended: a genuine sense of calm and balance, like a permanent reset has taken place. I really do feel like I have experienced a much-needed break. I feel grounded, and significantly more insulated from stressful things.

Taking a break is a very good thing.

But even though I now exist in this novel state of equilibrium, I can still experience eyebrow-raising moments of pure astonishment.

Imagine my surprise at finding this prophetic divination waiting for me when I got home. It was on the side of the refrigerator, and apparently has been on the side of the refrigerator for a very long time:

My entire trip was spelled out in my kitchen! There I was dreaming and planning my sabbatical adventure, and I’d already committed to making it happen somehow, with the well-established prognostication power of fridge magnets.

I had to do some digging in my memory, but that fridge magnet set is from the Modern Language Association convention in Philadelphia in 2009, which is the professional organization for my profession of professors. The magnets have yellowed a bit, and I’d probably have to pry some of them off now.

But never mind the yellowing — that just makes my fridge-magnet prophesy venerable! One should never discount the power of professional organization conferences and dreams. And fridge magnets.

I will end this sabbatical blog with the sincere wish that somewhere, Readers, maybe as close as your own kitchen fridge, the plan for your next adventure awaits.

I am working on mine.