I still do not believe this. Maybe I will in a day or two.
Tuned in, turned on.
Blogging when I should be in bed.
(First I was feeling run-down and battling anxiety attacks. Now the flu is trying to take hold.)
Eager to shake off the naivete.
Thinking that if I was Catholic at the very least, I would have been a nun by now.
But I’m Protestant, so I have no excuse.
I mean…I do…But lately I’ve been questioning some of what I’ve been holding true to. Especially in the realm of self-denial. (No, not just sex. I’m thinking about life in general.)
How much more of my life am I going to miss?
How will I stay true to all that I’ve ever known and loved?
Only time will tell…
I quit my job.
Lest I wasn’t clear before, let me update you. I began a new teaching position a
few short months several weeks ago. It happened swiftly. The way things fell together was downright eerie. I once drafted a lengthy a blog post about how I felt as though the whole thing was divinely orchestrated. (Thank goodness I never posted it. This would be one hell of a buzz-kill.)
A teaching job–in TORONTO.
Full-time employment in my favorite city.
The opportunity came up based on an application that I had sent in at the beginning of 2010. I hadn’t made any follow-up phone calls, sent any letters, etc.
Surely, I figured, it was meant to be.
Now as I look back, as far as I can tell, the only thing that was supposed to happen is that I was supposed to move back to Toronto. Meanwhile, as for my work in education…Well…
This square peg has decided to take a break from trying to stuff herself into a round hole.
I’ve walked away from the experience with the following pearl of wisdom:
A teacher who is
unfitnot meant to teach should not be in front of a classroom.
Your mileage may vary, but that’s my opinion.
Even though the end of the term was mere weeks away, I didn’t have the stamina to continue.
I faced a great deal of anxiety. It was affecting me physically. Yet in spite of this, every time I thought about resigning, questions kept popping up. Questions that all lead down the same roads…
What about my students?????
What about my fellow teachers? What about admin?
AHHHH AHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Just like that. Almost.)
Those questions cycled around in my head over and over without end. Ultimately, though, I had to ignore them and bring my focus deeper.
What about ME?
Since I made the decision to leave–and followed through–the mood I’ve been in in has been interesting.
In the past, when I’ve had visions of leaving teaching, I figured I’d come away triumphant. Defiant. A little like this:
(If you have an aversion to cursing and talk of vampires, don’t bother clicking.)
In fact, I first hunted down that clip ages ago, even before I got the job that I’m writing about.
And I’ll admit it. There’s a bit of Sheriff Dearborne in me. A little piece of Claire wondering why I put myself through a whole lot of mess just to close the door…
But for the most part, I feel driven and purposeful. Fear hasn’t hit me yet. I feel ambitious and ready for something. I have several ideas about the direction that my life will take. I can’t wait to see how I get there.
I wouldn’t have believed this article if I hadn’t read it myself.
I found it disheartening to discover that even certain branches of the Christian media are shaped by sinister forces.
Although I don’t subscribe to CCM, I have read their web site. I doubt I’ll be able to look at their content the same way again.
This morning a car drove by my house. “The Way You Make Me Feel” was blasting on the radio. I couldn’t help but smile…
Last night I was at Starbucks. Several feet away from my friend and I there was a gaggle of young people–probably university students. They were checking their cell phones and Blackberries for the latest…
I’d already heard (read) the news of Michael Jackson’s passing via people’s Facebook comments. But it hadn’t really hit me…
All of a sudden, one of the kids screeched loudly.
If people didn’t know before, they did right then and there…
There was an implied WTF at the end. As in, of all the crazy things you hear about Michael Jackson–and people are used to some pretty crazy ish–his being deceased is the last thing you’d expect.
Indeed, it was for me.
Rest in peace.
Or maybe I’m old or I’ve been pursuing practicality for too long…But chasing your heart’s desire until you’re nearly homeless doesn’t really appeal to me. I mean, I can understand it. But doing it…?
See me here, complaining? God is going to test me about this very thing one of these days….