"What are you doing, Rebecca?"
"Painting the kitchen table white is working?"
"Isn't it a part of life?"
I've always been a workaholic, because for me, living is a full time job. So much happens if you really pay attention. Feeling the brush in my hand that day, skating over the table, erasing everything underneath, I felt like my life was starting over. I felt the words of the poet René Cazelles:
Everything breathes again
The tablecloth is white.
Have you ever noticed the effect of a white kitchen table? People eat differently on it. It's clean, bright, and inviting. At least that's what I saw when I painted my table.
There's just so much of life to see, and if you really look, it all makes a difference. But with only two eyes, two hands, two ears, and one nose, it's so easy to miss the meaning in the million little things. Right now, an ant is walking by on the sidewalk. Where is it going? One day, when I have time, I'll follow it.
I like to consider my full-time job title: translator of life. It's exciting to see and write about what happens and what it means, from microscopic movements to breaking innovations. Whether working on the publishing team at EdLab, studying as a doctoral student of Philosophy and Education at Teachers College, or brushing up on my amateur painting skills, I'm learning more about the complexity of life. And that is a full-time job.