I’m drinking cappuccino and sighing.  I’m feeling tender and slow, knowing the first person on Earth I have to love is me.

An hour ago, I came out of a Dutch class … overwhelmed with speaking and understanding the language.  Most of what the teacher said I didn’t understand.  (Did I mention the sighing?)

I surprised myself by studying over the summer.  And by going to eight conversation sessions at Amal.  But this morning I felt like such a newbie.  It was the first session of Dutch Level Three.  Two three-hour classes a week until January.

Do I really want this stress?

My purpose is simple.  I want to talk to people who don’t speak English.  The road of academic study is not the only path home.

And so I’ve decided … I end this.  It’s what the body and soul need.  I have another plan:

1.  Go to Amal Conversation Tables once or twice a week.

2.  Proceed slowly through the lessons on the Babbel app.

3.  Have simple Dutch conversations in restaurants and stores, and with friends who expect English from me.

4.  Keep reviewing my notes from Levels One and Two, taking lots of time to let the vocabulary and grammar sink in.

The course doesn’t give me time.  So I’ll give it to myself.

I met several very cool people in class today, including the teacher Ineke.  So I’m saying goodbye to them just after saying hello.  So be it.  Other fine human beings will come my way.

I want to sing.  I want to play cello.  I want to be on Zoom calls of the Evolutionary Collective.  I want to have coffee with dear ones.

And I want to learn Dutch

In the softness of time