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Wednesday, February 15, 2012

08-02-2012 ...To find the courage

The past 2 weeks or so, teaching has been painful at times. This is because I simply can’t do my best. My energy is going into something else. How can I be satisfied with what I’m doing, if I know the job isn’t giving me the chance to excel as a person? Because I feel there’s so much more life inside of me… and teaching isn’t giving me the outlet. Man oh man, even the past few days I’ve actually been having an aching heart, dizzy spells and I’ve been drained. It’s very strange. This work doesn’t feel as real anymore and I honestly feel as though I’m waiting to finally start doing the proper work; which is work that will serve others as well as myself.

My writing moments force me into another world where I hope to find answers, to find clarity, to find strength… Sometimes I think I’ve found it: I think I’ve found the courage to follow through and take the risk and stand up and just to be REAL and to be MY SELF. Sometimes I think I’m doing it: I’m standing strong and being myself by simply speaking my truth and not pretending. Sometimes I think I’m faking it; I’m not really writing (because there is no book I can touch) and I’m not really teaching (because there are no lessons that are properly being taught), I’m not really traveling (because I’m stationed in the one spot).

Do the feelings I’ve been having towards school mean I no longer want to teach? No they don’t. They just mean that, AT THE MOMENT, I can’t teach properly. And being the witness of this is hurting me. Yes, that’s it. I want to sit and write a book, and I’m hurting for not being able to AND I’m hurting because the teaching is suffering as a result. But of course, I love my students, I love it when I’m fully focussed, I love it when I’m in a school environment… I love so many things about teaching… but the love for something else is growing stronger.

How bad can this all be? Really it’s not. I accept this experience and I need it. I need to go through this present period of transition, this shift. Because going through this change, whilst being here in India, only means the work will happen faster and with no effort at all… It will happen so soon; it will become real once I’m lifted onwards to the next place. So I’m grateful for it all. I don’t wish for my Indian time to end, I don’t wish to say goodbye to the kids and the school. It will happen either way. This change has got nothing to do with India. It just so happens that I’m going through it in one of the places I love so much. The change, instead, has got everything to do with me and writing; it’s not about location.

In regards to the job; the circumstances right now aren’t permitting me to continue teaching, which probably is a blessing (if this aching heart is anything to go by). The visa relieves me from this job and the publisher pulls me towards a new one. The publisher is coaxing me to be what I need to be. So what’s the problem, you’ll be asking yourself. It’s my fear of my geographical location being a reflection of the person I am. How can I forever be the traveler, if I permit myself to sit and write?! Am I traveling now though? Isn’t traveling the same as moving? I’m not physically traveling anywhere, I’m not moving… I’m creating my own world, is one of the most tropical places in India! So that raises the question: what is traveling anyway? Living in a country that’s not your own – whether you’re on the road or have set up a home? Or is it ONLY physically moving from one place to the next, which could just as easily be done in your native country? That’s something for I could ponder for hours…

Anyway, my fear has always been that Ireland would stop me from traveling and I’d become imprisoned. And now, my book (either the first or the second) is slowly pulling me home, and I’m giving way to it. I want it to. But at the same time, I’m terrified.

Right now, I have to trust in the uncertainty of life. I can’t make concrete plans, I can’t promise people I’ll be here, there or yonder. I can’t promise myself I’ll be here, there or yonder. All I can do is make a promise to myself that I won’t ignore what I know I must do. I won’t let my fears stop me. They will try, of course. It’s normal. But life is too short for them to hold me back and this is the only time to live and to make a difference in our own lives as well as the lives of others.

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