Empty and Full. All at once.
I feel so empty and yet so full.
Frustrated, tired, but blessed at the very same time.
How do I write about that?
Why would I write about that?
Let me start with why. I’ll try to capture it in writing because if I don’t it will eat me from the inside out. I’ll try because I need to frame my thoughts and my emotions and my fears; if I don’t, they become too big for me.
I’ll write because its the only way that I can have even the illusion of control.
So now to the question of “how”.
I don’t know.
My jumbled thoughts and feelings can’t be easily shaped into one of the accepted “genres” of writing that I am told to teach. They don’t really lend themselves to a “story arc” or a “main idea” or a “conflict/resolution” paradigm.
My thoughts and feelings this weekend are as looped and whirled as the knitting that I cannot seem to master. They are interwoven and as contradictory as the weeds that so far are the only life to show itself in my garden.
So how do I write it all down?
I’ll give up any pretext of “story form” and I’ll rely instead on my “stream of consciousness”, a writing style that I loved in my pre-rubric past.
Here I go. Try to hold on for the ride.
I love my family, and am so incredibly grateful to have them in my life. I love my children more than I ever thought I could love anyone, and they are as always my greatest pride and my greatest source of strength. I love my family, including my sisters and brothers and mother and even my now gone Dad, who keeps his hand in every major decision and his loving arms around every worry. I love my family, even when they are no blood kin of mine. This weekend I have found the magic and strength in family who are tied to me through the marriage of a sibling. Tied to me through love of that same sibling and her husband, through our shared love of their children. I love my family.
I am tired. I need a chance to refill my well, to gather my thoughts, to refresh my strength and my stamina. I am so, so tired. I wish that a night of sleep could fix it, but I know that it won’t. I am simply out of gas.
I love my job. In spite of the frustrations, the sadness, the struggles to remain relevant. The truth is, I love my job, my students, my role in their lives. I love the moments when I laugh out loud with 24 children I love. I am so grateful for the daily smiles, the hugs, the twinkling eyed humor. I am so lucky to spend my life in the company of children, to whom the world is entirely new and always amazing.
I love my life, but I still don’t know how to be what everybody needs, what everybody wants. I still don’t know how to balance the needs of those I love with my own limitations in strength. I love my life.
I need a rest. I need a way to get it.
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!