Fridays tend to be my favorite day of the week. I get to relax and reflect on the week without the pressures of preparing for the next day. I often feel a sense of closure and accomplishment. While some weeks feel like they slip away without having done anything substantial, many weeks feel like worthwhile chapters in the journey of life.
Today was a beautiful day. The heat wave is over. I had scratched many things off my work to-do list earlier this week. I got a solid eight hours of sleep last night. The stars were aligned.
Just after the last morning drop-off had occurred today, the classroom seemed to let out a sigh. "We're all here," it seemed to say. "The day starts now." The day had started an hour before, but until then I had felt the weariness of adult stressors weighing heavily. But just then I suddenly felt lighter.
I sat in an adult-sized chair in the middle of the classroom and watched. And a zen-like ambiance filled the room.
It's not the first time this has happened. It happens often when no one is looking. When, beneath the volume and activity level of a normal preschool classroom, the low hum of the universe rises to almost an audible level. Children harmonize. Play synchronizes. My heart rate stabilizes. But it takes an internal calm to appreciate what these moments offer.
I watched as children played together. Children who had never played with other children harmoniously suddenly seemed to understand the rules of the game. A child with no sense of humor joined me in jovial conversation and laughter. Another group of five children hovered around the sensory table, collectively making a cake with green sand and measuring cups and spoons. Cooperative play unfolded as children coordinated duties in the cake-making and included extraneous peers into the game. Everything seemed to click into place.
The morning continued on in this way, and we ended up having a very delayed circletime and snack because it felt wrong to interrupt such an opportunity for shared social development for the sake of schedule. But eventually, we had to move on.
And as with many experiences, encounters, exchanges in preschool, we learn to embrace the gift and then move forward. Relationships are transient, but no less valuable. Moments that we desperately try to prolong with digital photography come and go. But it's okay! My Zen Friday is over, and these moments will continue to visit our classroom. I just have to find my internal quiet and wait.