Last night I had a nightmare. I was on a city street, walking when all of the sudden a bus driver went completely rogue. The bus was trying to slam in to people and going on the sidewalks. It seems almost cartoonlike. The bus would sway over, hit people. The bus seemed as if it was aiming for me. Each time it would aim for people it would just miss me by a hair. I would jump back and press myself against a store window or hide in an alley to get away from it. It seemed never-ending, as if I had no where to go. Is there a huge bus coming to run me over? Is this a signifier of the fear I feel sometimes in life, as if something huge is about to come and wipe all this beauty away. On some level am I the crazy bus driver trying to run myself over? It sure feels like that sometimes.
I get in the way of myself. I am what stops “me” most of the time. I can blame it on time, a hangover, my husband or kids, but really that is a bunch of horseshit. When they say you are your worst enemy it is completely true. Shit is always going to be in the way, my shit. Usually, the crap that is in the way is inside though, lurking and sneaky. Sometimes (well most of the time) it comes out when I am driving…though now when I curse I have to spell out, “F-U-C-K”. When you have to spell out your curse words they loose their luster. Trust me, not as much fun. At the gym I’d kick and punch at it, sweating and grimacing it out of my body. Most of the time I do not even realize all that crap is there, unless I breathe and FEEL it. It is that stuff that compresses my spine. “It” catches up to me when I am dreaming in the form of crazy drivers; how incredibly ironic.
Oh, and I got a ticket on the day that I write this...it must be a sign. Argh.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
What I carry
I keep thinking about burdens. The stuff we carry on our backs and in our hearts. How we pass the burden on to the next generation for them to hold onto.
My shoulders hurt way too much these days. I carry my burden there. The load keeps me up at night. At 3 in the morning I am inspired my brain ticking along with the clock, twisting and turning.
This week I found myself yelling at the girls, "No". Maya stiffens her body, bangs her head into me, crys out. How do I let her know she should not throw her food on the ground? It is not safe to go into the computer area with all those wires, "no".
All she hears is yelling, my tone of voice, and she sees the look on my face and thinks...bad (or so I imagine). I do not want to give yelling to my daughters. In front of them I yell when I am mad. Mad means anger. I have had enough with anger. Anger stews and festers. Anger is in my blood. It is exhausting.
What I must do is talk. Tell Maya it is dangerous to go in the computer area. I love her and do not want her to get hurt. One day she will get it.
Yesterday the girls were in their fort. I joined them. It is safe in there. The light reflects through the holes on the roof. The fort protects. It is private. I like it and understand the need to hide, but I do not want them to have that need. I do not want them to understand, go inside.
What it comes down to is pain. The need to protect. I must protect them from me. I must let the burdens go. They will not be passed on. All of it ends here, with me.
My shoulders hurt way too much these days. I carry my burden there. The load keeps me up at night. At 3 in the morning I am inspired my brain ticking along with the clock, twisting and turning.
This week I found myself yelling at the girls, "No". Maya stiffens her body, bangs her head into me, crys out. How do I let her know she should not throw her food on the ground? It is not safe to go into the computer area with all those wires, "no".
All she hears is yelling, my tone of voice, and she sees the look on my face and thinks...bad (or so I imagine). I do not want to give yelling to my daughters. In front of them I yell when I am mad. Mad means anger. I have had enough with anger. Anger stews and festers. Anger is in my blood. It is exhausting.
What I must do is talk. Tell Maya it is dangerous to go in the computer area. I love her and do not want her to get hurt. One day she will get it.
Yesterday the girls were in their fort. I joined them. It is safe in there. The light reflects through the holes on the roof. The fort protects. It is private. I like it and understand the need to hide, but I do not want them to have that need. I do not want them to understand, go inside.
What it comes down to is pain. The need to protect. I must protect them from me. I must let the burdens go. They will not be passed on. All of it ends here, with me.
Monday, February 2, 2009
How I fell out of teaching: Part II
There was the incident, then there was the aftermath. Going to work every day became a living hell for me. I did not know who was saying all this crap about me. After I really thought about it (oh and I did) none of it really made any sense. Was I detoxing because I quit smoking? Did I eat tuna one day and smell afterwards? Should I take garlic out of my diet? These thoughts were absolutely ridiculous, and why should I even have had to worry about such utter nonsense. Looking back on all of it now, the situation almost seems unreal, like some kind of freakish nightmare, but it was real.
People were talking. My class was observed by one of the Assistant Principal's. He actually had the nerve to say to me during a professional review of my work that he walked passed me every day to see if maybe it was my breath that smelled, but he could never smell anything. He actually said this to me. I am not making this shit up. I had to get to the bottom of things. I had a feeling the "smell rumour" had something to do with the other woman I shared a room with, Jody. Jody did not like me, that was already apparent. The two of us were around the same age. She was tenure, so I think she thought perhaps she was entitled to things. For instance, she only "allowed" me to use a quarter of the chalkboard. Also, I had a small piece of a desk to place my handouts. She'd write me strange notes about cleaning issues in the classroom instead of actually speaking to me as an adult. I let her have her board and the desk because it did not really matter to me, yet seemed incredibly important to her.
I had two classrooms. Having two classrooms and no desk of any sort can take its toll on a frazzled person such as myself. Every day I'd forget a hand out and every day I'd have the same sweet, trustworthy student go get whatever it was that I needed. One day, my student told me she would not go get my stuff. I asked why. She seemed uncomfortable and said, "The teacher in your other room does not like you, and she is not a nice person". Hmmmm...It turned out that Jody was talking to the students about me. I am not sure if she brought it up to them or vice versa, but I found out that she told students to go to the principal to tell them I smelled. She also told them to tell their parents as well. Wow.
I went to my department chair and the principal. This woman helped create a horrible rumour about me. What she did was horrible and downright mean. Because of her I had to regain the respect of my students. Teachers were talking about me. I cannot believe I had to deal with this kind of crap where I worked. We had a meeting. She said the students were complaining, "what was she to do?" Poor thing. After the meeting she actually hugged me in front of the office. I let her. Ugh!
School starting to make me nauseous. It was around this time that I began having sleep issues. I started taking sick days, so I could sleep. Going to work became really hard. I actually started going to a healer to resolve all the issues I was having. Every day I had to force myself to go to teach with my head held high.
The next year I would have had tenure. I could have done what I wanted to. All that hard work, all that bol shit that I had to deal with through out the year because of that rumour with students would not have mattered anymore. I do not think that Jody should have gotten off so easy. Teachers are supposed to be role models and act like professionals. At the end of the year we got our placements for the following school year. I never went to my department chair to tell him what grade or level I wanted to teach. He gave me the worst possible schedule. I actually would have had to teach in both buildings (it takes 15 minutes to get from one side to the other). In my mind my schedule was just another nail in the coffin. I knew at that point that Erik and I were moving to Houston. I could not stay at that school. At the time I felt like I rather start somewhere new, learn a new curriculum. My last year in Philadelphia I took another job at a new school. Now, I realize that the whole smelling thing was really the beginning of the end. I was done with teaching then, even though I taught at another school for a year. My heart was just not in it anymore.
It has been about 6 years since I taught in New Jersey. I still wonder if I really did smell. Maybe I did for about a week when I quit smoking, maybe not. I will never know, but nor do I really care. People can be incredibly cruel. Mostly, cruelty stems from something else. Usually, its their own shit that they need to deal with. The whole thing was very strange.
I know I always say that the universe gives us signs. I felt like the whole mess was a huge, blaring billboard telling me that there was something else out there for me, something more. Oh, and I was right. I am not sure what the hell that is yet, but it will come.
People were talking. My class was observed by one of the Assistant Principal's. He actually had the nerve to say to me during a professional review of my work that he walked passed me every day to see if maybe it was my breath that smelled, but he could never smell anything. He actually said this to me. I am not making this shit up. I had to get to the bottom of things. I had a feeling the "smell rumour" had something to do with the other woman I shared a room with, Jody. Jody did not like me, that was already apparent. The two of us were around the same age. She was tenure, so I think she thought perhaps she was entitled to things. For instance, she only "allowed" me to use a quarter of the chalkboard. Also, I had a small piece of a desk to place my handouts. She'd write me strange notes about cleaning issues in the classroom instead of actually speaking to me as an adult. I let her have her board and the desk because it did not really matter to me, yet seemed incredibly important to her.
I had two classrooms. Having two classrooms and no desk of any sort can take its toll on a frazzled person such as myself. Every day I'd forget a hand out and every day I'd have the same sweet, trustworthy student go get whatever it was that I needed. One day, my student told me she would not go get my stuff. I asked why. She seemed uncomfortable and said, "The teacher in your other room does not like you, and she is not a nice person". Hmmmm...It turned out that Jody was talking to the students about me. I am not sure if she brought it up to them or vice versa, but I found out that she told students to go to the principal to tell them I smelled. She also told them to tell their parents as well. Wow.
I went to my department chair and the principal. This woman helped create a horrible rumour about me. What she did was horrible and downright mean. Because of her I had to regain the respect of my students. Teachers were talking about me. I cannot believe I had to deal with this kind of crap where I worked. We had a meeting. She said the students were complaining, "what was she to do?" Poor thing. After the meeting she actually hugged me in front of the office. I let her. Ugh!
School starting to make me nauseous. It was around this time that I began having sleep issues. I started taking sick days, so I could sleep. Going to work became really hard. I actually started going to a healer to resolve all the issues I was having. Every day I had to force myself to go to teach with my head held high.
The next year I would have had tenure. I could have done what I wanted to. All that hard work, all that bol shit that I had to deal with through out the year because of that rumour with students would not have mattered anymore. I do not think that Jody should have gotten off so easy. Teachers are supposed to be role models and act like professionals. At the end of the year we got our placements for the following school year. I never went to my department chair to tell him what grade or level I wanted to teach. He gave me the worst possible schedule. I actually would have had to teach in both buildings (it takes 15 minutes to get from one side to the other). In my mind my schedule was just another nail in the coffin. I knew at that point that Erik and I were moving to Houston. I could not stay at that school. At the time I felt like I rather start somewhere new, learn a new curriculum. My last year in Philadelphia I took another job at a new school. Now, I realize that the whole smelling thing was really the beginning of the end. I was done with teaching then, even though I taught at another school for a year. My heart was just not in it anymore.
It has been about 6 years since I taught in New Jersey. I still wonder if I really did smell. Maybe I did for about a week when I quit smoking, maybe not. I will never know, but nor do I really care. People can be incredibly cruel. Mostly, cruelty stems from something else. Usually, its their own shit that they need to deal with. The whole thing was very strange.
I know I always say that the universe gives us signs. I felt like the whole mess was a huge, blaring billboard telling me that there was something else out there for me, something more. Oh, and I was right. I am not sure what the hell that is yet, but it will come.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
How I fell out of teaching
About 6 years ago I worked at a school in New Jersey. For the first two years that I worked there I taught 9th grade, but 12th grade was what I really loved. The school as huge. It took me at least 15 minutes to walk from the 11-12 wing to the 9-10 wing, if I was walking fast. My third year I started teaching 12th grade, so because of the distance factor it was like having a new job, new kids, new colleagues, and a completely different working environment. I even had a new boss, or in teacher terms...principal, Joe.
In about November or December (I totally forget) there was a message from the principal to "see him" on the sign in sheet, ALL of my colleagues saw this. Furthermore, NO ONE was called in to the principal's office, unless you were screwed or some shit hit the fan. I had no clue what I did. I was sweating, embarassed, and downright nervous. I mean I said a lot of contraversial crap to my students to initiate discussion, that was my deal, but they knew that. What could I possible have done? At the time I was grading journals, so when I walked in to the office I was attempting to balance about 30 journals on top of my teaching materials. I must have looked like such an ass.
When I went into his office my old principal from the 9-10 wing was also present. I really started freaking out. It felt like the walls were closing in. My cheeks felt like they were burning. In high school I never got caught, so I never had to go to O'Brien, my principal's, office. Well...maybe once for smoking, but whatever. All I gotta say is even as an adult two principals in one office, scary. I thought I was getting fired. The presence of the two of them also immediately put me into defense mode.
They had this amazing lead up. Actually the two of them seemed nervous. It was all, "blah, blah, blah...and the other principal, who was a lady by the way, is here because I thought a lady should be present." What? Then, they proceeded to tell me that two teachers and students complained that I smelled. Parents called. My first reaction was to laugh. I mean I thought I was getting fired. Smell? Now that is a new one. I asked them if they could smell me. They said, "Well, no". OK.
Everything after that was kind of blurry. I awkwardly grabbed my journals and walked to the teacher's lounge. At some point I started to panic and called my mom. Mom was confused. Normally, I do not call her from work. Oh, and I was crying. Not only was I crying, but it was those tears that you cannot help. I could not force them down or away. She told me to calm down. I was not making sense. In fact, smell? The woman thought I was crazy. "Get out of there" she said. "Drive." Irrationally, I went back to the principal's office. I felt ashamed, mortified, and confused. I told them if there was a problem it would be rectified. I actually said that. I told him I have great respect for myself, that I am clean. I really friggin said that. Ugh.
Before I left the school I went to a friend's classroom room. She and I shared a classroom for one period a day. I told her what happened, still crying. Afterwards there was silence. She had this strange look on her face. I wanted to back away, run as fast as I could away from her and that place. She said that sometimes I smelled like hoagies. Perhaps it was because I was so close to the Italian Market. Betrayal. Maybe I smelled? What the fuck? I went to her because she was my friend. I trusted her.
I went to CVS and bought spray, deodorant, and some nasty crappy lotion. Oh, and I was crying. I called Erik and told him what happened. He was confused. I was going to keep driving, not go back, ever. I could not go back there and stand in front of those kids. He told me to stay, keep me head high. No, I did not smell. He'd know, but maybe he didn't? The rest of the day was hell, a mixture of shame and paranoia, combined with peach melba sprays.
At the end of the day I went to Blue Mercury. I told the saleswoman that my boss said that I smelled. She could not smell me. She said I smelled fine. I bought Fresh brown sugar everything, even the deodorant. Usually spending an exboritant amount on fun beauty products is fun. Not this time. (to be continued)
In about November or December (I totally forget) there was a message from the principal to "see him" on the sign in sheet, ALL of my colleagues saw this. Furthermore, NO ONE was called in to the principal's office, unless you were screwed or some shit hit the fan. I had no clue what I did. I was sweating, embarassed, and downright nervous. I mean I said a lot of contraversial crap to my students to initiate discussion, that was my deal, but they knew that. What could I possible have done? At the time I was grading journals, so when I walked in to the office I was attempting to balance about 30 journals on top of my teaching materials. I must have looked like such an ass.
When I went into his office my old principal from the 9-10 wing was also present. I really started freaking out. It felt like the walls were closing in. My cheeks felt like they were burning. In high school I never got caught, so I never had to go to O'Brien, my principal's, office. Well...maybe once for smoking, but whatever. All I gotta say is even as an adult two principals in one office, scary. I thought I was getting fired. The presence of the two of them also immediately put me into defense mode.
They had this amazing lead up. Actually the two of them seemed nervous. It was all, "blah, blah, blah...and the other principal, who was a lady by the way, is here because I thought a lady should be present." What? Then, they proceeded to tell me that two teachers and students complained that I smelled. Parents called. My first reaction was to laugh. I mean I thought I was getting fired. Smell? Now that is a new one. I asked them if they could smell me. They said, "Well, no". OK.
Everything after that was kind of blurry. I awkwardly grabbed my journals and walked to the teacher's lounge. At some point I started to panic and called my mom. Mom was confused. Normally, I do not call her from work. Oh, and I was crying. Not only was I crying, but it was those tears that you cannot help. I could not force them down or away. She told me to calm down. I was not making sense. In fact, smell? The woman thought I was crazy. "Get out of there" she said. "Drive." Irrationally, I went back to the principal's office. I felt ashamed, mortified, and confused. I told them if there was a problem it would be rectified. I actually said that. I told him I have great respect for myself, that I am clean. I really friggin said that. Ugh.
Before I left the school I went to a friend's classroom room. She and I shared a classroom for one period a day. I told her what happened, still crying. Afterwards there was silence. She had this strange look on her face. I wanted to back away, run as fast as I could away from her and that place. She said that sometimes I smelled like hoagies. Perhaps it was because I was so close to the Italian Market. Betrayal. Maybe I smelled? What the fuck? I went to her because she was my friend. I trusted her.
I went to CVS and bought spray, deodorant, and some nasty crappy lotion. Oh, and I was crying. I called Erik and told him what happened. He was confused. I was going to keep driving, not go back, ever. I could not go back there and stand in front of those kids. He told me to stay, keep me head high. No, I did not smell. He'd know, but maybe he didn't? The rest of the day was hell, a mixture of shame and paranoia, combined with peach melba sprays.
At the end of the day I went to Blue Mercury. I told the saleswoman that my boss said that I smelled. She could not smell me. She said I smelled fine. I bought Fresh brown sugar everything, even the deodorant. Usually spending an exboritant amount on fun beauty products is fun. Not this time. (to be continued)
Monday, January 19, 2009
Menu Jan. 19-23rd
Since the blog is called "The Kitchen Table" I thought it would be fun to write out my menu for the week. I wish I could list it on the side of the blog, but I am not sure how to do that (and if you know could you please help me?) . This week I am trying to add more vegetables to our diet. We have a ton of Chinese cabbage in our garden as well as mustard greens. It is so friigin cool to actually eat stuff from my own garden, even if it is bitter it just tastes better. Plus, talk about being eco-friendly. All I had to do was go outside and pick it, so cool. Oh, and I always double my recipe, so there is extra for the girls, lunch, and just in case I do not feel like making dinner the next night...
Monday:
Cormeal and parmesean encrusted tilapia with raw tomato and scallion sauce (a la Rachel Ray with a twist) with roasted new potatoes and brussel sprouts
Tuesday:
Farfalle with gorgonzola mushroom sauce (a la Giada). This dish was soooo easy to make. It really did actually take a half an hour, seriously. All you have to do is make a roux (which is one part butter to two parts flour), whisk in some milk, and add gorgonzola, yum. Oh, and saute up some mushrooms in oil...plus a cup of peas for color.
Wedsnesday:
Goat cheese stuffed portabello mushrooms (a la Bon Appetit) with braised chinese cabbage and mustard greens. I am so psyched to make these. They sound soooo good. I love anything that has to do with goat cheese.
Thursday:
Mustard breadcrumb chicken (a la Julia Child) with cauliflower feta rice salad (which I will be making up and, if good, posting)
Friday:
left overs!
Saturday:
Crispy black bean tacos with chinese cabbage slaw and feta (a la Bon Appetit). These are super simple and easy to make...I have never made them before, so I will let you know how they actually taste.
So, the stuffed portobello mushrooms were fantastic, and super easy to make...here is the recipe
Stuffed portabello mushrooms (makes 4)
Marinade:
4 portabello mushrooms
1/4 cup liquid aminos (or soy sauce)
1/4 cup madiera wine (not nec, but yummy)
1/2 cup grapeseed oil (or olive)
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
2 pressed garlics
Whisk all the ingredients together in a large shallow pyrex dish. Add mushrooms, gill side down. Marinade about 4 hours. Once in awhile spoon the mixture over the mushrooms.
Meanwhile make the stuffing...
about 1/2 an onion chopped
2 garlic chopped
fresh spinach, chopped
5 ounces goat cheese crumbled
1/4 cup plus 6 tablespoons of parmesean cheese
fresh (always!!!!) bread crumbs (just take old, stale bread and throw it in the food processor for a couple of spins) about 1/2 cup or more if needed
Salt and pepper to taste
Saute the spinach until wilted, about 2 minutes or less to keep those nutrients in, drain and squeeze out excess water. Saute the onion until soft, about 5 minutes, add garlic until fragrant about a minute. While the onion is sauting combine the goat cheese, 1/4 cup of the parmesean, spinach, and breadcrumbs. When onion/garlic micture cools a bit add it to your goat cheese mixture.
Drain marinade and put mushrooms in a shallow roasting pan. Roast mushrooms at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. After roasted add the goat cheese filling. Add filling to the gill side of the mushrooms. Sprinkle with 6 tablespoons of the parm cheese. Add a salad, and you got a meal.
Monday:
Cormeal and parmesean encrusted tilapia with raw tomato and scallion sauce (a la Rachel Ray with a twist) with roasted new potatoes and brussel sprouts
Tuesday:
Farfalle with gorgonzola mushroom sauce (a la Giada). This dish was soooo easy to make. It really did actually take a half an hour, seriously. All you have to do is make a roux (which is one part butter to two parts flour), whisk in some milk, and add gorgonzola, yum. Oh, and saute up some mushrooms in oil...plus a cup of peas for color.
Wedsnesday:
Goat cheese stuffed portabello mushrooms (a la Bon Appetit) with braised chinese cabbage and mustard greens. I am so psyched to make these. They sound soooo good. I love anything that has to do with goat cheese.
Thursday:
Mustard breadcrumb chicken (a la Julia Child) with cauliflower feta rice salad (which I will be making up and, if good, posting)
Friday:
left overs!
Saturday:
Crispy black bean tacos with chinese cabbage slaw and feta (a la Bon Appetit). These are super simple and easy to make...I have never made them before, so I will let you know how they actually taste.
So, the stuffed portobello mushrooms were fantastic, and super easy to make...here is the recipe
Stuffed portabello mushrooms (makes 4)
Marinade:
4 portabello mushrooms
1/4 cup liquid aminos (or soy sauce)
1/4 cup madiera wine (not nec, but yummy)
1/2 cup grapeseed oil (or olive)
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
2 pressed garlics
Whisk all the ingredients together in a large shallow pyrex dish. Add mushrooms, gill side down. Marinade about 4 hours. Once in awhile spoon the mixture over the mushrooms.
Meanwhile make the stuffing...
about 1/2 an onion chopped
2 garlic chopped
fresh spinach, chopped
5 ounces goat cheese crumbled
1/4 cup plus 6 tablespoons of parmesean cheese
fresh (always!!!!) bread crumbs (just take old, stale bread and throw it in the food processor for a couple of spins) about 1/2 cup or more if needed
Salt and pepper to taste
Saute the spinach until wilted, about 2 minutes or less to keep those nutrients in, drain and squeeze out excess water. Saute the onion until soft, about 5 minutes, add garlic until fragrant about a minute. While the onion is sauting combine the goat cheese, 1/4 cup of the parmesean, spinach, and breadcrumbs. When onion/garlic micture cools a bit add it to your goat cheese mixture.
Drain marinade and put mushrooms in a shallow roasting pan. Roast mushrooms at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. After roasted add the goat cheese filling. Add filling to the gill side of the mushrooms. Sprinkle with 6 tablespoons of the parm cheese. Add a salad, and you got a meal.
How I fell in to teaching
"D" is for disappointment, "D" is for Danna. My father said this to me when I was in high school about my report card. I am not sure what the subject was, but I do not think it really mattered. It was said, and I took it to heart. The worst thing for me to be was a disappointment to my father. All I ever wanted to do was please him. Throughout my life I have struggled with this. I did not want to be a failure, so instead I became a perfectionist, with an extra dose of pressure. I am that person who is (usually) early, by about 10 minutes. In my classes in grad school I had to be the best student. I am proud to say that I had one B (and was pissed about it, since it screwed up my GPA). Disappointment I would not be.
Dad wanted me to be a lawyer. "Gordon and Gordon" the door would read. It would be the two of us, working together. It was ingrained in me. If I was a lawyer it would just about make my father's life. Throughout high school and college I assumed my father's dream as my own, realizing one day that I'd be miserable if I became a lawyer.
I had an epiphany while getting professor recommendations for law school. While I spoke to my law professor I realized that my heart was not in law. Actually while studying for the LSAT I became withdrawn, my roomate and good friend Georgia, asked me one day, "Where are you?" . At the time I had no idea.
I tool a walk and decieded to figure it out. During my walk I found myself sitting at the bus stop. I did not plan on taking the bus. I wondered where all the people were going. What their lives were like. What mine would be.
While I was dating the enigmatic, actor dude (who I am convinced now was probably excruciatingly gay) I met a guy who taught Bible school and worked with troubled youth (I think, life back then was kinda hazy). Coincidentally he was sitting next to me at the bus stop. He had a kid textbook based on the Bible with him. I told him how I was trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. He opened the text up. The page talked about how it does not matter how much money you have, what mattered was how you impact people. What mattered was love. A light dawned on me. I was not living my dream. What I needed was change.
I truly believe that the universe sends us signs. We just have to be aware enough to read them. I got up from the bench and went to talk to the English Department about teacher certification. After the English Department, I went to the loan office.
I realized that becoming a lawyer was not my dream. My dream was to help people. My dream was to write. My dream was to fall in love. Oh, how I wanted to fall in love, so much so, that sometimes my dream would get muddled and confuse me in to thinking perhaps that "this guy was the one". We live, and we learn.
I wanted, so badly not to disappoint my father. Calling him to tell him I was not going to be a lawyer was scary. Ironically, he was fine with it (at least he seemed to be for my sake).
The other day I was leafing through a book of poetry and an old card fell out. The card read, "To the greatest teacher from your students, Mom and Dad". I do not even remember recieving the card, but perhaps I was not such a disappointment after all.
Dad wanted me to be a lawyer. "Gordon and Gordon" the door would read. It would be the two of us, working together. It was ingrained in me. If I was a lawyer it would just about make my father's life. Throughout high school and college I assumed my father's dream as my own, realizing one day that I'd be miserable if I became a lawyer.
I had an epiphany while getting professor recommendations for law school. While I spoke to my law professor I realized that my heart was not in law. Actually while studying for the LSAT I became withdrawn, my roomate and good friend Georgia, asked me one day, "Where are you?" . At the time I had no idea.
I tool a walk and decieded to figure it out. During my walk I found myself sitting at the bus stop. I did not plan on taking the bus. I wondered where all the people were going. What their lives were like. What mine would be.
While I was dating the enigmatic, actor dude (who I am convinced now was probably excruciatingly gay) I met a guy who taught Bible school and worked with troubled youth (I think, life back then was kinda hazy). Coincidentally he was sitting next to me at the bus stop. He had a kid textbook based on the Bible with him. I told him how I was trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. He opened the text up. The page talked about how it does not matter how much money you have, what mattered was how you impact people. What mattered was love. A light dawned on me. I was not living my dream. What I needed was change.
I truly believe that the universe sends us signs. We just have to be aware enough to read them. I got up from the bench and went to talk to the English Department about teacher certification. After the English Department, I went to the loan office.
I realized that becoming a lawyer was not my dream. My dream was to help people. My dream was to write. My dream was to fall in love. Oh, how I wanted to fall in love, so much so, that sometimes my dream would get muddled and confuse me in to thinking perhaps that "this guy was the one". We live, and we learn.
I wanted, so badly not to disappoint my father. Calling him to tell him I was not going to be a lawyer was scary. Ironically, he was fine with it (at least he seemed to be for my sake).
The other day I was leafing through a book of poetry and an old card fell out. The card read, "To the greatest teacher from your students, Mom and Dad". I do not even remember recieving the card, but perhaps I was not such a disappointment after all.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Moving
Before children I used to work out. The gym was actually my favorite thing about Houston. Is that pathetic? It's called FIT. FIT was heaven compared to the gyms I am used to. It had a sauna and a steam room. Plus, the showers were actually clean and nice. The whole sauna thing was the deal breaker for me. I LOVE saunas. After I worked out I'd go in there, even in the hot, nasty Houston sweat bomb summers. In my head it would be like an Indian sweat lodge. I'd picture all my toxins leaving, meditate, do some Reiki on myself, talk out loud like a crazy person as I said my affirmations...unless some beatch was in there...how Zen of me.
Anyhow, I miss the gym. I miss MOVING. I miss sweating and the sauna. I miss yoga. Some people say they have the time, and that they can do it all, BUT they are LYING (sorry people you are). Sacrifices must be made when you have children. The one thing I miss the most is the gym. God, and that sauna...
In August I started walking with the girls. Walking helped me loose a few of those baby pounds. While I enjoy my walks with the girls I needed a bit more action and release. Whatever I did needed to be convenient and class oriented. I love the camraderie of classes. Plus, it allows me to hang out with adults (important really when you are hanging with 11 month olds all day and have whole conversations saying "ga" or "ada").
Two weeks ago I started going to Nia classes. They are AWESOME. Nia is a combination of dance, tai chi and yoga. It is movement with conciousness to music. I love it. It feels so nice to MOVE and express myself creatively. Plus, it makes me feel like a kid, and helps me release my emotions. Oh, and I am sore. I love that sore feeling after working out hard. I love being sweaty and feeling like I just did something entirely for me. Plus, I think it is helping me fall asleep.
I still walk for about an hour every day with the girls. We go even when it is a bit rainy and cold. It is good for them and good for me too. This week I started using the concepts I have learned in Nia when I walk. I am trying to bring conciousness to the movements in walking through deep abdominal breathing and concentrating on my steps. During the walk I actually picture us walking into good Reiki or light and do some symbols. I can feel the heat rising from the pit of my belly as I take the steps...It feels great. Plus, the girls get to benefit from all the good mojo.
Even though I do not have FIT anymore or the sauna, I am bringing the feeling I have from the sauna to my day. Pretty cool huh?
Anyhow, I miss the gym. I miss MOVING. I miss sweating and the sauna. I miss yoga. Some people say they have the time, and that they can do it all, BUT they are LYING (sorry people you are). Sacrifices must be made when you have children. The one thing I miss the most is the gym. God, and that sauna...
In August I started walking with the girls. Walking helped me loose a few of those baby pounds. While I enjoy my walks with the girls I needed a bit more action and release. Whatever I did needed to be convenient and class oriented. I love the camraderie of classes. Plus, it allows me to hang out with adults (important really when you are hanging with 11 month olds all day and have whole conversations saying "ga" or "ada").
Two weeks ago I started going to Nia classes. They are AWESOME. Nia is a combination of dance, tai chi and yoga. It is movement with conciousness to music. I love it. It feels so nice to MOVE and express myself creatively. Plus, it makes me feel like a kid, and helps me release my emotions. Oh, and I am sore. I love that sore feeling after working out hard. I love being sweaty and feeling like I just did something entirely for me. Plus, I think it is helping me fall asleep.
I still walk for about an hour every day with the girls. We go even when it is a bit rainy and cold. It is good for them and good for me too. This week I started using the concepts I have learned in Nia when I walk. I am trying to bring conciousness to the movements in walking through deep abdominal breathing and concentrating on my steps. During the walk I actually picture us walking into good Reiki or light and do some symbols. I can feel the heat rising from the pit of my belly as I take the steps...It feels great. Plus, the girls get to benefit from all the good mojo.
Even though I do not have FIT anymore or the sauna, I am bringing the feeling I have from the sauna to my day. Pretty cool huh?
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