Sometimes, you leave a class you taught and need to sit in the Rotunda.
You sit. You breathe deeply. You remember.
You remember how it felt to have a few moments to yourself when you could just sit and be.
You remember the anticipation of an exam. The pain of an assignment.
You yearn for the simplicity of college, when the worst thing you had to do was wake up before 9:00 a.m. to attend a class you couldn’t stay awake for.
You wish you didn’t have the stresses you have now. The conflict. The questions.
So you walk across the campus to the Rotunda. It is cold and quiet.
Sometimes, there is a labyrinth there – a replica of one found in a cathedral. It is an act of meditation to walk it. This might be what you need.
Maybe you walk with a friend unexpectedly.
Maybe you find a moment in the quiet to feel the load lightened.
Maybe you like the feel of the canvas under your feet and the spots of warmth where there are probably pipes beneath the marble.
You have a moment where you can reflect, breathe deep, and let go of what was bothering you.
You feel better for it.
You reach the center.
Then you return. Smile.
And then you type.
It was what you needed.