I could (and do) beat myself up about lack of commitment and energy. How have five months passed without a visit to this project, which I intended to be a daily (or at least weekly) acknowledgment, reflection, observation, metaphor?
On the other hand, I can (and do) celebrate today and how I can spend it.
I have trouble saying this sentence: "I used to be a teacher."
When I mentioned this to a friend, she said, "You are a teacher; you're just not working at a school right now."
Yes, she speaks a truth. I am a teacher. I often find myself thinking about how I would work a current event into a lesson, how I might compare today's world to the classic literature of yesteryear, how I might reach today's students. I miss that part of my teaching, yet find tremendous relief from the day-to-day tedium and stress I had experienced in the most recent job. Still recovering from the sudden and unjust dismissal curtly handed to me on April 10 (Good Friday), I drift from doldrums to relief to righteous indignation.
Then I receive the gift of vindication. I spend an evening with former students I groomed in the Interact Club and treasure their hugs and appreciation. I read a Facebook message from a young woman who says that she has wanted for 20 years to find a way to thank me for my kindness and my inspiring the love of reading in her. I see a photograph online that I had sent to a young woman I taught in peer counseling, and I smile at her gratitude. I remember that I have saved "thank yous" over the years for a time like this, a time when I wonder what I will do next, a time when I wonder just what I have accomplished.
I know I have made a difference. That gift can fill me with gratitude and acceptance if I allow it.
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