casting lots
Why is it that issues from school, where I lived for 11 years but have deliberately avoided for the past 3 months, can still rise up and kick me in the stomach when I least expect it? One email and suddenly I feel my blood pressure rising and the anxiety setting in. My hands shake, my belly churns, and I begin to perseverate on all the negative and depressing feelings of the past. I become paralyzed.
I know better than to think that I was important, or sillier yet, irreplaceable. When I took 8 weeks off to have my son, I visited school after 3 weeks. Thinking my class would miss me, I walked smiling into the room to hear a student call out to my sub, "Hey Mr. Lesh - that woman who used to teach us is here!" Since that time I've been grateful for that reminder that when we step away from our spot on the assembly line, someone else comes in and takes our place. I know this, and I'm okay with it.
So why am I taking each perceived dig so personally? Why can't I step back and just breathe? I could blame my mental and physical health issues for my lack of resiliency and the severity of my reaction. That may indeed, be part of it. But part of what pisses me off so badly is the fact that I could work week after week, year after year, stepping in and trying to help teachers in my department and school only to have some act selfishly after I'm gone. I think I wanted folks to see my departure as a wake up call, a signal that things - that THEY - needed to change in order for things to get better. Although it may sound like I'm labeling myself a martyr, that's not how I see it. Any sacrifices I made, I made for myself and my love of teaching, not because others wanted or needed me to. Or maybe I just use these thoughts to try and justify my sadness and guilt for leaving teaching so suddenly.
I'm realizing that most people don't see the world as I do. That what are issues for me, aren't issues for others. I shouldn't judge them for that; modern life doesn't allow for a lot of thought about philosophy and moral high ground. It's all most folks can do just to keep going.
Father forgive them for they know not what they do.
I know better than to think that I was important, or sillier yet, irreplaceable. When I took 8 weeks off to have my son, I visited school after 3 weeks. Thinking my class would miss me, I walked smiling into the room to hear a student call out to my sub, "Hey Mr. Lesh - that woman who used to teach us is here!" Since that time I've been grateful for that reminder that when we step away from our spot on the assembly line, someone else comes in and takes our place. I know this, and I'm okay with it.
So why am I taking each perceived dig so personally? Why can't I step back and just breathe? I could blame my mental and physical health issues for my lack of resiliency and the severity of my reaction. That may indeed, be part of it. But part of what pisses me off so badly is the fact that I could work week after week, year after year, stepping in and trying to help teachers in my department and school only to have some act selfishly after I'm gone. I think I wanted folks to see my departure as a wake up call, a signal that things - that THEY - needed to change in order for things to get better. Although it may sound like I'm labeling myself a martyr, that's not how I see it. Any sacrifices I made, I made for myself and my love of teaching, not because others wanted or needed me to. Or maybe I just use these thoughts to try and justify my sadness and guilt for leaving teaching so suddenly.
I'm realizing that most people don't see the world as I do. That what are issues for me, aren't issues for others. I shouldn't judge them for that; modern life doesn't allow for a lot of thought about philosophy and moral high ground. It's all most folks can do just to keep going.
Father forgive them for they know not what they do.
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