Where do we go from here?

This is what I am thinking.

Sometimes walking away from something is

Healthy.

Other times,

It's the opposite.

I'm not one to throw it all out there.

On a prior blog of mine,

My emotions and life were splashed across the page.

A mess.

So I'll only say this,

That I don't know

Where to go from here.

I know there is a future

Beyond the one we planned and pictured.

But now instead of putting pieces into the puzzle

It seems we are slowly taking it apart.

I grow weary running it over

In my heart and in my head.

Where do we go from here?

I suppose we go forward.

As best we can.

The Cover of Darkness (Closet)

Whoosh
Whoosh
The rythmic sounds sets my heart faster and faster
My arms cut through the thick
Night air.
I spin around only to
Spin again.
Backwards.
Forwards.
I am me
In this place.
When I can hide
Beneath the cover of darkness
And barely lit streetlights.
No one hears the hymns I sing
Or hears the sounds I make.
They are all inside.
Their T.V.s flashing.
Unknowing that I am
Looking in on
Their world.
I used to go into empty spaces
And cry out.
My pain.
My grief.
My sorrow.
Everything.
Dear God.
Why.
And I would seemingly
Perfectly
Move gracefully
Jumping and Flowing.
This is my outlet.
The one place I can go and pour myself
Completely into.
Where my worries are washed
Away into a basin of speed
And sound.
I like to think that out there I am nameless.
Only my grace, my spins, and my jumps
Define me.
I am God's creature.
Beautiful in motion.
When I am one with my skates
I feel I am who He made me to be.
FREE.
If only for an hour.
It is nice to feel total
Freedom.
No demons can catch me.
Lay me in my grave
With skates
So I may hope in heaven
They have rollerblades.

A little problem.

Attitude.

A lesson I have to remember to learn over and over again.

A good friend and I had many tough conversations about attitude throughout a hard time in my life. I was pretty much really good at throwing pity-parties and exuding negativity and miserableness.

I recently saw a poster that said, "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference".

So true.

My attitude is something that I don't want to control me. I don't want to be defined by a self-pitying attitude. It's not attractive or productive. It covers up the best of who I am and turns me into my worst self.

Often when this type of attitude comes over me, I'll do anything I can to get the most out of it. I'll sit in it, throw it around in the air, spread it around to others, and make sure I don't have a good day.

Then there are brief moments when someone I love and respect will tell me how it is, in a gentle and honest way, and I'll realize how much I've been dragging myself down. I am reminded that I can CHOOSE to be who I want to be, just as much as the kids I work with can choose, so can I. I don't have to be this way or that way.

I can
Just
Be
Myself.

And that's OK.

No one has signed an order that I must be miserable.

It's easy to think and believe that just because a few hard things happen in your life, you are somehow required to live in misery, always expecting the worst.

That is not who I am. Nor how I want to live.

I want to expect the best out of every day rather than expecting it to be miserable.

I don't want to sit by and wait for miracles to happen in my life, I want to make my life miraculous. And in so many ways, it already is.

I forget sometimes.
I forget the beauty there is in each day.
I forget that I am blessed with people to love.
And people who love me.
I forget that though I don't have the best job in the world,
I am employed.
I forget that every day at Y-Care I see smiles
That I helped create.
I forget that every time I'm a stranger in yet another classroom,
I have the power to make or break a child's day.
I forget that making miracles,
Is only so difficult as a quick phone call
Or short text.

I don't want to sit around and mope.

This is my declaration. My declaration of freedom to be the person I KNOW is inside of me. The eternal soul that rests within these skin and bones. The part of me that has so much to offer but gets covered up by the daily grit and grime.

So I declare.

Freedom.

One Word Sums It All Up.

Worried.

Worried. Worried.

I feel the future closing in one me as it draws closer and closer.

I hear all these stories....so and so didn't get a teaching job until school started....

They always come out with more jobs in June........

Keep looking, you'll find something........

I know others are trying to encourage me, yet it still is frustrating. I've sent out application after application after application. I feel like a little kid waiting for someone to pick me for their team and yet I'm still sitting on the sidelines. I'm the one who is not good enough, whose credentials aren't up to snuff.

I want to move on and grow up and work. In ONE place. with ONE group of kids. I am starting to get frazzled with every new group of kids that I have and every new group of teachers I meet. I'm honestly worn out of this whole subbing thing.

Where was I when the rules changed? I have everything I need to teach. Yet I still don't feel like it's enough. My fellow Y-Care staff tell me I'm going to be a good teacher, but no one else sees this and I'm beginning to wonder if I should have gone into some other sort of profession.

My favorite part of my day is going to Y-Care. I KNOW those kids and they know me. We have fun together and if one of them is having a problem, they come to me. If they're moody, I bother them until they can't resist joining in a game of UNO. I know how to keep kids engaged and interested. I know how to teach them. I know these things. I want to see a group of kids all through the school year. Watch them learn, grow, and become continually confident in their academic abilities.

To have the tools and the knowledge and yet still feel limited is just tough. This is what I have chosen to do with my life. Teaching is my passion. Perhaps I will find it. A job will come to me and it will all work out.

Yet, when times toughen up, I am always the pessimist. Dire predictions fill my head until I'm sure the world is going to end and it will be all my fault. I never give up on those around me, but even as an adult, sometimes I have to fight the temptation to give up on myself.

This is one of those times.

Wordless with words. And still without

Sometimes I don't have any words
But still want to write.
It's not writer's block
Instead it's a simple case of
Feeling that the words I would normally type
Cannot hold the depth of what I'm feeling.
Yet some part of me wants shout out
My feelings in no safe or productive way.
Today it's OK to have no words.
Tomorrow perhaps will be
Tears instead of speech
As i again grieve.
It's as simple as missing
And as complex as losing.
No words.
Some days are hard for me.
Mother's day is one of them.
Perhaps this is why
Friday was full of
Emotional distress
And weary anticipation of the weekend.

Finally, Something decent to

Write in!

Now, I have to confess, I am a journaler. And, trust me, it benefits me and everyone around me. It keeps me emotionally stable when I can write out my emotions and say WHATEVER I want and know it doesn't affect anyone. It helps me work through my feelings before spurting them all over the next person who walks in.

A good journal is one thing I need to remember to actually spend decent money on. I had this journal that I took to NC with me and it was OK but not awesome. just average. So. I ended up not really using it.

I've recently come to some personal conclusions concerning my faith after wrestling with quite a few questions and in reaching a point where I know I need grace, I find myself back to where I started. And back to where I started is with a good journal. One where I can pour out my soul and heart to a compassionate God. And I'm excited. I'm excited for this sweet new journal and I'm excited that my heart is again stirring with peace instead of unending skepticism and questions. I think it just came to the point of admitting that no matter the amount or scope of my questions, at the end of the day, I need to know I'm not shoving through this life and these challenges alone.

So, if I perhaps neglect this here blog for a while, it is because I am getting reacquainted with an old friend. A lovely journal.

The Search

The search has been on for quite some time now. I have labeled myself "substitute teacher". That's right. I'm the kinda teacher you used to play tricks on in elementary school when your regular teacher wasn't there.

Sometimes I'm really nice to the kids just to see if it works. However, usually I have to show my mean side so they don't think I won't put my foot down.

Anyways.
I have been applying to many different districts around the area hoping that someone will give me a chance. Sometimes it's really frustrating and I get exasperated.

I know I can do it.

My fiance has also been job searching, otherwise he's stuck with a internship that would only pay half what his starting salary would usually be. So far he's had one interview and will be interviewing with someone else.

In my department my interviews total to...da da da....One screening interview!

Until today.

Today I have an interview in my hometown for my dream job. A Spanish Teaching Elementary job. At my former elementary school. Could it get anymore ironic? Yes. The principal was my fourth grade teacher.

I say dream job because Spanish has been something that I enjoy, that I hope to use, and hope to teach. With my degree I can teach Spanish in grades K-8. At this school I'd be like the music teacher in that I'd go around and teach a half-hour Spanish lesson and then move onto the next group.

Can you picture little kids running in place while I say, "correr"? Or saying "hola"

Ha. I can.

Hopefully my former fourth grade teacher can too!