Kelly invited us today in class to begin our last lecture in the footsteps of Randy Pausch.  Randy, an engineer, decided with his last few months of life with liver cancer to write a book for his kids, to “teach [his] children what he would have taught them over the next twenty years.”  The task is heartbreaking.  And pragmatic.  If I were faced with the same, what would I write?  I would want to write about the little choices one makes every day to keep going, to choose love over self-interest in the small things.  I would want to talk about how to nurture one-self as a goose who lays the proverbial golden egg, so as to keep laying those eggs as gifts to the world rather than burning out or drying up in one’s abiblity to give.  I would want to talk about love.  But truthfully, I am just on my way with these topics.  Right now I am more muscle and grit and less joy and song in some areas of my life.  I am able to focus enough on the girls when I am with them to allow them to charm me, to interest me, to engage me, and to thus banish all else from my mind and to allow me to be with them wholly–or at least mostly.  That discipline of sitting carefully and attentively until the interest and the joy arrives in the loving, is something I feel good about learning how to do and doing.  I would like to have time to do the same in my scholarship, my teaching, my love life.  But there just seems like there isn’t time to fully get into “flow” in each of these areas during my day.  Always time.  Keeps coming ’round to that.