January is always a little challenging. It’s the start of new year and I’m eager to put Christmas away and get things back in it’s place. Per 2020 I moved the Christmas tree almost 10 times and I was ready to put it away! Not only that, but this year will be 13 years without my mom here. Zoë was getting some things together and I cautioned her to not take something because she wouldn’t want to lose it. And she said ok, it would be terrible to take something and then not come home with it. In an instant my brain flashed back to the moment I was sitting in the passenger seat stunned that we were driving home from the hospital without my mom. I knew that feeling deeply and intimately.
I feel like so much of those early moments prepared me for the bits and pieces of my life in the future. But there is so much that happened in between the drive home and the healing I now feel. One of those moments includes a conversation I had early on after my mom had passed away. In a nut shell it was about how we could inherently love something good (our spouse) and over time that love becomes distorted to the point of idolatry. Now I don’t know the right timing on this topic, but in that moment it didn’t compute, maybe because I was still so deep in my own worshipping of my mom. She was inherently a good person. She was in fact, very human, but there was something so devastating about her death that elevated her in my mind. I think it’s a lot like a house being burned down. That’s what it feels like this year. But the reality is yes, we can take something good and distort it and pervert it in our minds and heart that it in facts becomes an idol. It’s not until you have an idol torn down that you realize oh shoot.
This year encompassed a lot of those oh shoot moments. Being a teacher in a pandemic has been challenging. This year has impacted me professionally and personally. I have this way of always looking at the positive side of things and making the best out of any situation. This year exposed that so much. And at the end of the day it was starting to cost me and it was getting harder and harder to cover up the hurt and turmoil I was feeling inside. I think the fact that I had time to process helped me to self correct a lot faster than say 13 years ago. Back then I ran and hid and I made excuses and I was angry. This year and maybe as I get older I know where to run and where to hide and I allow myself to feel and process my emotions in a healthier way. None the less I still had to dig a little deeper and find that “it is well with my soul”. Over time grieving what was and what is has become challenging. The reality of two weeks turning into 1 year feels heavy. The constant rollercoaster many teachers find themselves on is getting exhausting. The failed reality we live in on a day to day basis leaves us feeling very little hope. Watching peers and communities show a lack of regard for the greater goal that so many of us desperately long for, GETTING OUR KIDS BACK TO SCHOOL SAFE AND IN A HEALTHY WAY leaves us defeated. I’m tired. I’m tired of pretending everything is ok. Are there slivers of what was in the what is, of course. My love for my students has not wavered. My hope for the future although it looks dim, there is a faint flicker that I keep squinting to see.
The reality is there was this inherent love for how things were and a lack of flexibility to see what is right now. I have spent a lot of this year reconciling those two time frames and holding on and letting go all at the same time. I had to lay down the idol of the classroom and the pace that I so much love and thrive off of. I had to learn something entirely new. I had to form new habits and adopt new systems. I had to change. I had to change the way I do things and the way I think about things. I had to consider others before I made decisions. I had to consider other’s perspectives as I began to build a virtual classroom. And when I say I, that is the collective I. Teachers all over have either fought this battle or stepped up to this battle. Because we don’t all respond the same way to a crisis. I have had to protect my sanity and my health. I have had to advocate for my students while considering my own sacrifice (count the cost my friends). And to be perfectly honest there have been several times where I thought that’s enough, I quit. My heart is heavy because those moments increase more than they decrease. It’s not because I haven’t been successful. For all that it’s worth I know I have done my best. And I know I have been a part of something much bigger than me. I have put in countless hours and learned far too many skills to count. And this too will be laid at the alter. I think the biggest thing I find myself laying down is disappointment. Right behind disappointment is my overly positive energy. There are times where I need to let myself be honest with myself and with others. I can’t make this better. I find myself this month especially preserving myself because I don’t have a lot more to give. I would like off the rollercoaster please.
Staying home used to be my worst nightmare. I’m a get up and go person. I can be spontaneous to the point of danger. By the grace of God I have found peace and safety staying home these days. Maybe to the other extreme, but it’s easier to find a balance between the staying home and the socializing for me. I grew up in the 90’s when my aunt and my mom would buy me Klutz Crafts and DIY books (from Scholastic of course, haha). They prepared me for this time. Those books were a seed planted in me. It’s were I first learned to tie knots. Where I learned about jewelry making. Also where I learned to juggle, but that didn’t stick. These crafts and DIY’s are where I find balance. Where my mind can race and be focused all at the same time. They give me time and space to process the feelings and thoughts inside me. To take the words I have read and let them engrave themselves on my heart. I know how easy it is for these activities to become places for me to escape. I think the thing about idolatry is that it can sneak up on you, it’s a slight increase of time and energy and before you know it, oh shoot. What I’m learning is checks and balances. To be intentional. Like I said I can be a little reckless. I’m the kind of person that builds something first and then reads the directions. That’s a bad habit. My intention this year is to be intentional in the things that I do, trust the process and follow the directions, maybe even check the temperature of the meat to make sure it’s cooked all the way, little things like that. To allow myself to continue to grieve and not hide behind my ultra positive attitude because it’s ok to not always be happy.
It is well with my Soul 