The Hierarchy of Life

+ 19 November 2009 +


There seems to be no escape from it.


The John Cheever biography still setting on the living room coffee table; and Cheever's "The Brigadier and the Golf Widow", also on the coffee table, neither having been re-shelved. They are joined by "Children with Autism", the textbook from last year's Stanford University class.


There is the Lego thanksgiving turkey, a gift from an autistic child I taught swim lessons to in 2006. It is on the side desk in the office. Next to it are the numerous "swimmer" tree ornaments. Next to them is the microcassette recorder, a reminder of the Cheever inspired swimming trip I did in the fall, 2007. Everything on that recorder was now fully transcribed. Above my desk framed are two photographs I took on that trip: Simpkins Family Swim Center in Santa Cruz and the Paso Robles community pool.


On my desk there is my daily swim journal:
11.16.09
swim at Burlingame Aquatic Center (BAC)
6:30-7:30a
long course
clear skies, cool air temp, steam rising from the pool, could not see the opposite end of the pool due to the steam
the planes are landing at SFO
shared lane briefly
2000m freestyle


Next to that swimming journal is drawing "PR 253" (in progress) which is inspired by the 11.16.09 swim.


On the file cabinet is my three-ring binder, contents: Red Cross Water Safety Instruction materials.


In the bathroom hang a damp towel, jammers, goggles and cap from yesterday's swim lessons.


There is the time I spend at home, a reminder that my job as a swim instructor is seasonal. What's to be done about that? On my desk is a swimming-related job posting I responded to. What next?Next to that posting are the business cards of two Bay Area artists I met recently. The images on the cards are a photo of swimmers in a pool and a watercolor of two gentlemen standing next to a sailboat. Next to that are 100+ pages of writings by me about swimming, awaiting further editing and major revisions.


In my head there is the hierarchy of it all. Any regrets do I have? None at all. I still find time for my wife.