Stumbling Toward Enlightenment

In the midst of all the craziness that is my current career path, I feel that I have at last found my flow. That every step I've taken up to this point--every uphill battle, every almost-gave-up moment, every credential complication--has actually served several purposes. I wanted  this path, I chose this path against all the odds that were stacked against me. From the initial last minute application process to the overnight stays in a shady hotel in the armpit of LA County in order to finish my last classes, I did it. I did the hard things. Now I can say that I fought for my place here, and certainly not for fortune or fame. In fact, I didn't even end up at a "good" school or in a comfortable district--I am here after a hardscrabble journey, with my students who have also had hardscrabble journeys, who deserve teachers who fought to be with them.  So that's it. That's the post. 

I'm in a better space today, thanks to touching base with friends and with myself. I realize that I was holding onto anticipatory anxiety--that I was already bracing myself for the lift of the quarantine and the ensuing toxicity of forced interactions. I was preparing my energy to become defensive, protective, contained and suppressed (which is so against my nature). It is draining to come out of those interactions, and I was mentally girding myself to head back into battle. Sounds dramatic, I know, but that is what it feels like to deal with narcissism and another person's unresolved anger--it's exhausting! And in this particular situation, I am not the only one who has felt this over the years. The ripples of that locus of rage can be seen in my own distancing, sibling dysfunction, marital strife, fakeness of many kinds, kids, etc. But by all means, continue with the sarcasm, LAUGH, and have another drink. So I gave myself permission to not just go back to business as us...

Thank goodness for writing therapy, amiright? I mean, I have a lot of patience for most people, so my fury is like a comet, only coming around every ten years or so. But when the emotional load gets to a certain point and tips the scale just so, look out. It's about to go down. This needs to be said--has needed to be said for years--and will be said the minute my switch is flipped in person. So the next time you decide to make fun of people’s "eccentricity," (you're using the word wrong in the wrong way, btw, and there ain't nothin wrong with being whomever the fuck you want to be so screw off with the judgmental bullshit), or weigh in on our choices of "weird" vacation spots or jobs that should be more "prestigious," (WTF?) or refer to me as "white" when you know damn well that I'm not; or "check in" on people who just lost a parent to Covid--not because you actually care about them, but because you want to get the scoo...

Alrighty, folks, bear with me. Hell, no one reads this, so I'm gonna go ahead. If there's one thing I've grown to detest, it's smug-ass privilege. Now, I didn't know much about this concept until recent years. I had ignorantly assumed that most everyone grew up like me--working class, ungated communities, family members on the wrong side of the law, and a general sense of just getting by. I'm not complaining, I had a great childhood and had no sense that we were all squished into a tiny house and had never been on a plane-vacation. Our house had a familiar and worn in revolving door, and I actually loved it. My cousin lived with us, my uncle, my grandma for a while, then more cousins came after I moved out, then me again for a while, and so on. The furthest we went on vacation was Santa Cruz, and we stayed at a Motel 6 and ate breakfast cereal in styrofoam bowls in the Safeway parking lot to save money--actual restaurants were for special occasions. Yet there is...

I spent some time with a friend recently, and I went away from the experience not knowing what to think. She seemed restless, tired, snarky. She made some pointed comments to me, and almost seemed to be picking a fight, which is just not like her. I'd normally have dished back, or stood my ground on some of the points she seemed to be making. But then I thought of my students, especially the ones at the school that provides behavioral and emotional support for troubled kids. I thought of the phrase that I repeat to myself so often when one of them is in a particularly bad place: " They're not giving you a hard time, they're having a hard time ." Something shifted in me, and I realized in that moment that my friend was overwhelmed. She was hurting. She was tired. She was still dealing with some unresolved grief, self-doubt, exhaustion from all those mom-hours. I understood her, because I had also felt this way before. In my case, I turned to the mom of one of my ...

If there is one phrase that would sum up what I've learned this year, it would be this: Bless and release. Reading over my past blog posts, I realize that I spent my 20s and 30s in a vulnerable space of fear and resentment. I was angry over being willfully misunderstood, and I was fiercely protective of my experience. Yet I couldn't speak on that experience, or share my pain, as it simply wasn't safe to do so. I very much lived in my story, and that story was the context of my life. I felt I had to explain myself to people, to tell them my story so that they could understand me. It came before me, and I never veered from it. But what a burden to carry! I've learned to consciously let go of those experiences and heal them from the present. To put down my weight and allow myself to live in a place undefined by past events or how lost I felt for so long. To let go of unhealthy attachments and see the world as a place where joy can live. I've learned something from al...

I've been doing a lot of writing lately in various forums (fora?), but I feel like I should maybe keep it all in one spot. I've also removed my blog link from all social media, so this will be my spot to write without a personal audience for the most part. Looking over my old posts from 5 years ago and remembering all those old emotions. 😥 Not reliving them, just remembering them. It's a good thing to be able to use my old writings in that way--I have friends who are in some of the places I was in those years ago, so I can so empathize with them. And that makes those experiences seem worth it if I can turn them into helping someone else. But now is time to turn a new page and see what's what, as my mom used to say! 😉