maybe it wasn’t that deep at all

I am addicted to pinterest http://pinterest.com/ellen915/.  It started because I felt I didn’t always know what I liked or what I wanted.  I guess I needed to become attached before I could really understand detatchment.  I needed to desire before I could realize that desire is the root of suffering.  Or maybe it wasn’t that deep at all.  I just wanted to zone out and look at pretty and funny things.  I love pretty and funny things.   Here’s one that fits so well with project easier!  And funny too.

The url the pinterest pin directs to is no longer there, which is weird.  So I apologize to whomever first generated this LOVELY SIGN.  You are so smart and funny.  Because bears are so scary, and fears are so scary.  And it just makes me laugh. The way one’s mind at first reads “bears”, and thinks, there aren’t any bears here, and then it all becomes clear in one silly moment of lucidity.  🙂

being, growing, changing

Paris Street Art

It’s not easy for me to look at my stuff–the way I confuse myself by denying some part of what I feel–my fear mostly–and I start to blame someone or something else, or look for an escape route.  When really I have to just own that change is scary. As much as I tell myself it will be easier, there’s a part of me who is inside screaming, “No it won’t!  It’s always sucked.  It will always suck.” And on and on with feelings that don’t have words.  Feelings that are both true (in that they’re a response to something from long ago) and false (in that they aren’t really about what’s happening now).

But then I recover, and remember that I’m just growing and changing as all things do.  I wonder if the flower bud feels like, “oh, I know it’s just never going to happen.” And then I see the ridiculousness of my thinking and can almost laugh at it.

easier is happening one baby step at a time

First day back at work.  To make it all clear, I’ve been teaching middle and high school English (aka Language Arts) for nearly twenty years in the same district.  About ten or twelve years ago, I had a student freak out and basically attack me (long story, much shortened here).  There were two big hearings because his family hired lawyers to protect him from being expelled.  It was grueling and humiliating to have my teaching questioned and even condemned publicly.  Especially since I had done nothing wrong.  After that I had a hard time getting my footing again.  I transferred to a new school.  I took a leave and tried something else.  Went back to teaching.  Took another leave, and went back again.  At this point I feel very disillusioned with teaching, yet I fear change and fear the unknown. Plus, I had gotten very sad for different reasons during those two leaves, so I can’t conclude that it’s only the toxic environment of schools that makes me sad.  It’s something deep within me.  None of this sounds EASY, does it?

So after my first day back after Spring Break, I feel exhausted.  My legs ached today.  My floor was littered with crap at the end of the day, which makes me sad (and yet I know its me who should have trained the kids better, which makes me sad too).  After school two girls were working on their grades. Loud girls.  We were kidding around.  I stood my ground though they begged for free points.  When they left, another student who was working on his grades said, “they just bested you in your own classroom.”  That’s not exactly what he said, but something like that. I said, “No, I won.  They wanted to get free points and I didn’t let them.”  He thought I had fought with them. It was weird because he basically thought they were awful (which they sort of are, but I cajole them).  Anyway, I was left thinking, did they best me?  Did they disrespect me?  I didn’t think so.  He did.  I don’t know how I came to be talking to him about this.  I just stopped talking.  And I didn’t feel disrespected.  Except a little by him, but he’s the kind of kid who is probably sensing the pain and frustration that I’m swallowing.  Anyway, it’s all of this kind of stuff that drives me crazy.  The negotiating.  The cultural difficulties that no one can really talk about for fear of being labelled a racist.

When I was a kid we didn’t negotiate with grown ups.  But then back in those days, kids were molested and nobody knew what to do about it so most of us didn’t talk about it or get help.  So kids’ rights are good. But kids’ rights are also annoying.  I mean, for a teacher who tries to make sure kids are seen and treated fairly.  It’s not EASY.

So today I’m going to trust that I am not going to be teaching for much longer, and although I don’t know what is coming next, I’m working on it–I’m figuring out my next move.  I don’t need to panic. I don’t need to overthink my day.  I just need to do nice things for myself, remember I’m on project easier, and let go. Easier is happening one baby step at a time.