i want to say it doesn't fix everything, but it does!!!

My heart is racing so fast - there might be a place for me after all in this world.. while i have been deeply regretting not pursuing a career in arts or art education - and also knowing i wasn't motivated enough to supply teach for two or more years before getting the oh so wished for temporary or dare i hope permanent teaching position.. i am very specific, i am great with little ones however i am also done with daycare.. i belong somewhere between preschool-and grade 3.

this brings us to the fantastic school that makes me believe that i could pursue my own happiness and the feeling of being home, while still, being a teacher and caring, loving and educating children. I can stand up tall and say with my whole being that i am for the earth, for the ancient, for the flowers and fruits, for colour, for crafting and not so totally aligned with technology being the answer for everything. While i don't love blackboards - smartboards and having students have iphone projects on the go, the fact that a poor student would be left far behind.. how in the world did owning a laptop become a necessity..

but to be apart of this strange and wonderful world - i needed 4 years of training on top of my Bachelor of Education and University degree... really? More teacher training. Now, don't get me wrong, I would love more training, I never want to stop learning new ways of reaching kids and bringing technicolour to their experience in school.. but i can't afford 1 more year, let alone 4..

so in about a day or two, I went from knowing exactly where I belonged..and filling with a happy heat - to being completly crushed and knowing that my new found dream was far far beyond my reach.

oh and i also hesitated because of the fact that early literacy is not something that is focused on or even really taught. But, Waldorf is not encouraging illiteracy.. just not teaching it to four and five year olds.. but they are teaching the German language and Greek Mythology..and did I mention basket weaving - well not actually, but instrument making, woodworking, water colour painting, things using yarn ..

but guess what? Hope against hope, they are hiring teachers now without the training.. the training is necessary BUT not prior to the job offer..

the school isn't in the town we're in. It might mean my husband leaving his job. but it's a very small window that not only makes me happy in my vocation, but earases years of regret at the same time. i'm ready! looks like i gave up on being a forest elf too soon

can u imagine being payed to make flower crowns!

A-men!

this is a prayer- I can't get this without a miracle! I am holding my breathe and holding out my hands

I would love my life, be proud of who i am, and be able to change the world. just a little bit. one child and one engaging story telling at a time :)

what about teaching?

All I ever knew was that I wanted to go to Teacher's College. There was no sweeter sound, it was like all my dreams rolled into one word, all my hopes and all that i would be. I never thought about after, well, not often. I just wanted to get in - to go to Teacher's College. I remember often asking, "Is it okay to go to Teacher's College and not pursue teaching afterwards?" It was a big question. It made me hesitate when I applied and as I gathered the money, the oh so much money, to get me there.

It wasn't what I expected, and I realize it never could be, nor will teaching. My dream came from a book long long ago, I wanted to be a teacher - but I wanted to take a train far away and teach in a one room school house. My vision did not include being married or being in my thirties. It did involve wearing dresses though, I think.

My other dream was to teach where teachers are needed. In schools without much of anything. Where education can save lives and bring freedom ( I know education can do that anywhere) but i mean where teachers are really needed.

Yet, I find myself somewhere where you have to fight to teach. Where teacher's college, years of experience with students in inner city contexts and overseas is not enough. Where I am at the bottom once again. I am so very proud of the new teachers who are climbing this mountain. Those who are supply teaching, who are on call and who are in many cases working other jobs in the meantime. I am proud of them and I recognize the incredible feat that it is and priveledge that it is. To be a supply teacher is to be teaching.

But, it's not a fight i'm up for. I don't like selling myself and competing with others. I don't like the weight of the hoops that have to be jumped. Mostly, I can't wait that long for a classroom. I have always become quite attached to students, wondering if I could handle only having kids for a year at a time. There is something beautiful about the Waldorf method of having the same students from kindergarten to grade eight. You get to really know eachother, and grow together. You become a family. Clearly, it's not for everyone and it's not even an option in the public schools. At the very least I need to be at one school, to have the opportunity to bump into students I had the year before, to sometimes see them in the hallways. During practicum it was very difficult to leave, especially after the first one. It was a tease. Here I was with a school, a class. I was slowly integrating myself into the community there, just beginning to get to know other teachers and just starting to speak with parents when school let out - and suddenly, I was fired. Not really, but that's how it felt. It was a tease. I know that to be in different schools, with different principles, and students would wreck me. I wouldn't last, and I would probably abandon teaching.

So, then I'm left with private schools and alternative teaching options, like tutoring or running programs through libraries and museums. I've actually been excited about some of these options - but they haven't been here. And I just don't know if I should pick up and move to a city and start all over. It would be awesome to have good transportation and live the urban life once more (more on that another time) but to move for a part time or contract position would do nothing to help me settle- to help me stay!

and i know i need to stop leaving!

say thankyou - it changes everything!

"There is nothing like fear for disturbing perspective, and nothing like gratitude for restoring it.

-I'm not talking about the false kind that denies that you or anyone else is suffering. Nor the shadowy kind that depends on the truism that somebody, somewhere, is always worse off than you, nor the timid thankfulness that doesn't dare ask more from life than basic survival. I mean really appreciating what is in front of you right now even if you don't know if you can count on it tomorrow."

- Growing Dandelions (Kyran Pittman)

It's true. I know that when I am open to thankfulness or determined to be thankful, suddenly I see all the wonder that is around me. Just because I'm in a time of searching, doesn't mean I have to see every little thing as a clue or part of the process. I want to allow myself to see things as complete, as answers rather than riddles.

I have found a few answers here already and yet haven't really let them be the good in my heart that they could be. They are tangible things that have stopped me in my tracks and completely gathered me up in a life of their own. Being here was totally worth it, if only for this one sight, this one smell, this one sensation.

So far, I can remember three but the list is growing even as I write this.

Devoted Whiskey Jacks. Translucent Jelly Fish. The sweet smoke rising from a chimney inevitably coming from a woodburning stove.

These things I have never known before arriving here. They existed in books I never read, aquariums I visited and in fairytales or stories from days that are long gone, like when my grandparents parents were young.

There is more. I want to say the deer, but I met them in Japan. However, finding things of Asia in this place is utterly dazzling to me. Japanese maple leaves, smaller and brighter than ours, deer wandering calmly across green spaces reminding me of Nara park and the Cherry Blossoms that are soon to bloom - even knowing they will be apart of my life again is too much happiness.

my soul cries out.. or the significance of paint

I have long thought that if I could have a HUGE canvas and big buckets full to the brim with colours, and if I could THROW paint at the canvas, while screaming or crying,
probably both, that I would be healed.

That I would be all better!

I tried flinging paint from a regular sized paintbrush at a piece of paper stapled tothe wall..and
nothing happened..

perhaps it wasn't a big enough canvas..

perhaps it was because I didn't scream!

The Story so far..

I went to teachers college ( we're not suppose to call it that anymore), graduated and was offered a position teaching in Northern Manitoba.

"Welcome to the team!" or something like that, the sweetest words I had unknowingly been waiting for my entire life. I had done it, or had miraculously come to the place of being offered a full time position as an elementary school teacher. My own class, my own kids! I began to imagine meeting them and some days felt that I already had. Their faces floated before me, their eyes looking up quietly after the bustle of the everyday classroom activities. But, I let them down.

I never came to class.

My husband had an interview for a position in British Columbia. Accepting this job, would mean moving us both up North and never knowing the outcome of the interview. Had he been offered the job - my decision might have been easier to make, but this was an interview, an unknown, the idea of taking away his "chance" at a job and possibly a chance at a future for both of us was hard to think about. I would have everything, and he would do online studies? Could we stay there for a while, build a life, put down roots? or would it mean moving a year or two later? But, I would be a teacher!!! A real teacher!! My dream would become tangible. Our life could begin.

Staying up all night at my grandparents farm, I wrote two letters: one excitedly accepting the offer and the other regretfully, painfully declining. I cried and cried. I believed I had never been so torn in all my life. The next morning, I sent the one that said no.

and my husband had the interview, and was offered the job. We hugged, I was happy for him and happily confused about the upcoming move to Vancouver Island.

I've always felt, and still do, that there are certainly a lot worse places we could have found ourselves then this little piece of paradise...but is beautiful enough?

Finding myself in a small town city island place..I had a strong sense of not knowing where to begin. I knew only one thing.

I wanted to take an art class!

I was offered a Nanny position which was part time and would have been perfect. Not only was the Mother a teacher and the Father a writer, but they saw me -somehow- and cared about me finding my place in the Valley. I often wonder and mostly believe I made a huge mistake..even though I stayed up nights (again) and cried my eyes out (again) there was another job offer at the same time and I thought it was wise to go with it instead. I was extatic, I was going to be an art teacher! Suddently, everything was clear! I felt like God had not abandoned me. I was special, I was loved, I was going to have my cake and eat it too! This was the dream I had forgotten about, that I hadn't realized. Of course, I wanted to go to Art School after elementary school, but had not. I wanted to major in Theatre in University, but had not. I wanted to apply for an Art Education program instead of taking my B.Ed but had not. So many loses, so much pain, so much regret. I couldn't believe it! I didn't go to art school and here I was fully immersed in clay and painting and drawing and also with young kids! It couldn't be better..

...but it turned out that the job was more of a business and to be completely honest felt a little too communist..with everything having to be the same as all the other art schools since it was a chain and having less freedom to design the programming then I would have had as an elementary school math teacher. So I took a picture of myself in the programs tshirt looking like the world was about to end and all my dreams had been crushed, thought about the company slogan I was inspired by, and about the fact that it was a slogan.

and wrote this;

You cannot market a person

for what they have inside is greater than

the weight of a decal or the power of a company

Why do we listen when someone says that we must

shut away some part of ourselves, wear this uniform, say

these greetings?

Why do we feel that we have become a number

- a one amoung many - replaceable - expendable - invisible?

Why did someone tell the First Nation men and woman to line

up and how come they could not be told instead how amazing they were?

If you say we are nothing we will believe it.

I don't know why and I wish it could stop.

but here is something for you to remember

although you declare it and expect it

although you may believe you have done it.

you cannot market a person.

After this, confusion, I landed another perfect job, teaching EsL at a small school in the area. I loved the vision of the directors to have an experiential English school. There was so much that excited me and I was amazed to have found a multicultural connection in such a small place. What an honour and a priveledge. I quickly became overwhelmed and felt bullied by my students. I can't think about this without feeling sick. All I know is that something was wrong.

I quit -without notice- for the very first time in my life. I broke my own heart and walked away from what may have been an incredible and unique teaching career.

I have realized that loyalty has a dark side.I knew it was a problem, but it was while reading a Percy Jackson novel, that I found out it could be someone's kriptonite. It might very well, be my own.

I would have stayed for years at that job, being hurt and being the best robot version of myself, every couple of days I wake up compelled to call and ask for another chance. Yet, deep down I know that my heart was not in it. I hated myself for leaving. I still haven't forgiven myself.

Yet, for some reason, I am desperate to protect myself and to find a vocation where I don't perform incredibly, but where I exist fully. A place where I'm aloud to be me!

I'm not sure why I left, or at least that's what I keep saying. Perhaps, I fell apart because I wasn't ready for all that. I am always drawn to “all or nothing”positions where I am at the centre making everything work, but I couldn't have the spotlight on me. I couldn't, to be honest, even have a beam of light from a flashlight on me. Not right now, anyway, and not then. I needed to get away.. ... and so since December I have been in my apartment.

Beautiful days have gone by, I have had great times reading and experiencing revelation. I have even felt well, have twirled around and smiled out the window. But, I am not ready to be in the world. Wherever I go, I say too much or I say nothing and either way I get hurt. I feel SO much pressure to be SO much that I am not and do SO much that I cannot. I don't expect anyone to understand..because I can't explain it. I just, don't know.

So, as uncharacteristic as it might seen, I am a hermit. I am afraid of people.

I am especially afraid of myself.

Sometimes I cry, sometimes I feel only hate and anger, and sometimes I am at peace. I never know what I'm going to feel or how I'm going to react. I only know that I can't hide and that I will be completely transparent - which right now - is not a safe thing to be.

So.. I am back to where I was in July 2011, I know only one thing.

I want to take an art class.

Honestly, I want to enroll in an art program and there is a great one at a college nearby, but I have neither the portfolio of ark work that is required to apply- nor do I have the four thousand dollars that it takes to attend.

So, here I am. Knowing I'd love to start over and get an Art degree, be it design, fine art, writing or something I haven't even considered. I would love to meet other Artists and dream together of how to create and make the world better. I would love to study Art Therapy. I would love to run Art programs for children who can't afford it. I would love to be a full time Artist as my profession.

But, I don't have the money and I've put so much of my life into teaching. For now, it seems that finding work of somesort is important. I need to try and set aside all my wishes and hopes, and fear of commiting to the wrong thing, and just get a pay check.

I don't like money - as a goal, anyway. I don't know what it's like to have a part-time job.

I've never done that before.

Well, once, when I worked at the Bay over Christmas. That was terrible.I'm more of a vocation type. Anyone who works the cash, waitresses etc.. these so called "part time jobs" that any highschooler could do. I say, "you are magicians and geniuses!" I know I could never do that, and I am amazed and so very proud of anyone who can.

i wish they could know how amazing they are!

I am pretty scared to trust myself at all, but can't remain unemployed.

p.s. My journey is Much bigger than needing a job, and I know that finding work will not heal me, but it is a practical step in finding my place and something that will get me "out of the house" and into the world!

your value

I read the other day, that the Sabbath is the one time to be away from work, the one day
when you stop and realize that you are not a number, not a slave to any system, and most importantly NOT what you do!

Your value lies in who you are.

While I know this, and believe it is the essential message for all the children I come in contact with as an educator and all the people I come in contact with as a girl who says hi when she meets someone in passing on the street, I have not let myself accept it. At least not fully. I know I haven't because if I had – if I really believed I mattered right here, right now, without employment, far from friends and invisible to the town I'm in, then I'd be healed. I'd be fine. I'd be working on some secret dream, with a great big smile inside - and I would be free!!

It seems, you have to Let people love you. You have to Let God love you.

So, dearly beloved, because You are...

let yourself be loved.

it's not easy..but i'm gonna try

Fear is standing between me and my dreams. Fear I can't climb over.
Money too – is trapping me – but so are my good intentions and my beliefs.
I need to take each and every one of these things, place them carefully on an imaginary
table and throw my arms across the table knocking all of it to the floor.
It would even be good for some of the things to smash irreparably into dust
I need a clean table. I need to place only the true -the good -the lovely on it. I'm
too tired to search for myself and I don't even think that's a search worth taking because I could get lost in unanswerable things –because I don't think I could ever get myself – what i'm trying to do is just find enough of me to move forward – to live!

To breathe. To laugh.

What I fear is that if I don't heal – if I don't get hold of a life I'm happy to be
wasting my time at :) then, I will give up.

Giving up is easy – its not depression, it's not self harming,it's just a self hatred that will slowly turn all the hurts I carry into a darkness and uncaring sigh of, “oh well -no one ever said
life was good -and no one ever said that dreams come true – for so many life is literally a living hell! So,it is what it is, and at least there were some great times in the past."

I always thought it was selfish, to be happy, to follow your dreams. I have always just
tried to do everything for others and carry as much as I could. I have always placed myself in a place where I was literally holding up the ship. I once heard that great leadership is when you can leave and the organization or the people or the program carries on without you. If it all falls apart when you leave, something is wrong.

I guess, that's what I'm saying.. I hate that I'm not perfect. I hate that I'm only human.
I hate it. I want to be everything to everyone – and can't even let myself be loved.
Soooo, this is the great storm.. the heavy rain that you can't see through...and I look
forward to writing the date (day-month and year) that I am whole again!

just thinking about that day makes my eyes sparkle with excitement :)

just a little seed

in a sense, I have begun. For we begin in the invisible, something may come into being all at once but the idea, the thought, the process has been going on. Something is stirring, even if we don't know what that something is, nor what it will become.

So, I've been thinking of my self as a little seed.

" If I want potatoes for dinner tomorrow, it will do me little good to go out and plant potatoes in my garden tonight. There are long stretches of darkness and invisibility and silence that seperate planting and reaping."

- Eugene H Peterson

All of the steps are important - i have been planted, i am a little seed in the dark, deep, soothing brown earth, safe like a baby in a mothers womb - but like a baby, doing so much that except for ultrasound magic - goes unseen, and doing a lot that even ultrasound waves cannot detect..i'm incubating or perculating..mmm coffee..whatever is happening in this time under the ground, in the darkness is just as important as the first bright green shoot poping up through the earth.

i'm so excited to get to the sprouting part..but i can't rush it..time is ticking, time has flown, most days i feel like i'm out of time, that it is really much much too late to still be hidden underground, but i don't want to turn the hands until the alarm sound and i can't make the rooster crow.. so i'm trusting that i need all the time i've been given..and that it will be up when it's up..i'll probably realize the moment i know i'm pushing through the soft dirt and starting to sprout..until then.. time can roll on

in the beginning

..one has to accept the fact that they are a beginner. This is the hardest thing in the world to do, well not the hardest thing, i'm sure becoming an astronaut or raising four kids could be harder. ( i don't know if i like how constantly i contradict myself..sometimes it makes me laugh..but it is a constant interruption..sigh)

I want to sit down and paint a picture perfectly. I don't have time for years of training, the force - yes i also thought of StarWars- is too strong. I have to create -completely NOW!! The sad truth is that I can't even write a letter much less put a stamp on it and mail it off. Perfection is an enemy that stops you at the gate and reminds you that you can't do it all, so why even start. Not that i'm consciously aware of those thoughts, but i recently read an incredible book that has revealed so many things about me that now, i see everything!

So, I need to be perfect and I can't be perfect, I know I can't. So what do I be. I can't very well begin my day with, "I'm off to do something incorrectly!" If I am certain I will make a wrong decision, say the wrong thing, write the wrong word. How can I do anything? How can I move forward?

The answer is, I can't. I'm stuck! I'll admit it. Until I can admit that I'm a beginner and embrace, yup embrace that I can only do my own awkward version of living in my own unromantic way, sigh. then I very well could stay in this bed forever.

Every day that I haven't stepped out, feels like one too many. I know, it is time to begin.

Prologue

finally paint is everywhere.. this summer, or maybe even sooner in celebration of my friends experience in Korea, i will throw powdered paint around..i am So excited..the only thing missing is the friend and the location!

the explanation for the utter joy that this background is bringing me will become aparent very soon. as a heads up i feel i should warn you that i do not have a clear intention in writing this blog, other than to be writing with the side effects of figuring out some stuff along the way. secondly, you should know that i prefer lower case letters and am well aware of other mistakes in spelling and especially format. i know it's incorrect, even wrong, but i find it freeing somehow!

finally, in trying to be honest or perhaps being unable to be any other way - believe me, i've tried - many posts will be sad or even angry..at the end of the day, and at the beginning too, i am mostly okay. thankful in a way for the sadness while looking forward to throwing it off and stepping into the sunshine again..but don't be alarmed..i don't want to die..in fact it's quite the opposite, i'm looking for a life that's cohesive with me.. i'm trying to come true!

if you wonder what that might look like..i'm happy to have you along on the journey..very happy as i feel that this is something worthwhile..

oh. you should also know that being public terrifies me - it took me years to get on the facebook train..and most days, for many reasons i want off.. this blog doesn't feel safe..but i'm hoping that you will be kind.

to those of you who are lost in your own transitions, take heart, you can write a blog and i will cheer for you :)

* April 7th 2021

This has not yet happened. I want to throw powdered paint around so very much. Maybe for my forty third birthday.