After I finished my hour-long language lesson, I noticed the Special Education students’ paintings scattered across tables, drying in the far corner of the classroom.
Each person’s rendition of the photo was beautiful, of course, in its own way.
In this one, I see a flying dinosaur stretching over a cat head (with one ear) to peer into a funnel (with hair).
We observe, we try to replicate and make larger, we will our hands to carry out another’s vision…
only to end up creating something else entirely: our own work of art.
For 17 years, I’ve been a speech-language pathologist in the public schools.
After May, I want to try something different — other ways of working in the world.
I feel close to figuring out what to do but I still don’t know for certain.
I am moving slowly, thinking carefully.
But I am more than ready to transform. To fly.
Is any direction a good direction?
I know who I am atop the ancient volcanoes and in the mountains’ forests.
In the working world, I’m not so sure.
A lady in my book club quit her job last year.
She jokes around and says she is now “on sabbatical,” dabbling in volunteer gigs as she also works on her writing at home.
Her long-term, live-in partner has a job and is holdin’ down the fort for the two of them.
What if I had that kind of support?
Yet I can’t even go there in my heart; my singleton existence means so much to me.
It may take more resourcefulness and trust in the Universe that all will be well – but that’s o.k.
I can do this.
Thank you for reading. As always, know that you are not alone.