Showing Up

I. I honestly don’t know what is happening anymore.

2. My house hasn’t sold. It comes down to the garage almost every time. The garage is on the property line and I own half and the neighbors own half. The driveway to the garage also straddles both properties, but is more on my side of the line, which makes zero sense. It works and I like the neighbors, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why sharing a driveway and a garage can be a problem.

3. I am not a fan of driving to Pueblo. I am not a fan of driving in general. Honestly, if I could envision my perfect life, I’d probably never have to drive anywhere and I could walk, ride my bike, or take public transportation everywhere I wanted and needed to go, and just drive once or twice a year if I felt like a Thelma and Louis road trip.

4. And honestly, I’m not sure I want to live in Pueblo.

5. Or teach anymore. In fact, I’m pretty damn close to walking out the door.

6. It’s really not specific to my current position. I just realize that the classroom is a cage for me. I’m like a wild thing, pacing around looking for a way out.

7. I read inspirational messages everyday trying to psych myself out and be positive. Shit like–Say Yes to the Universe. Show Up. Be in the Moment. Breathe. Live for the Day. I have a whole ritual. I get up and flip to a page in the my daily oracle book. Write the message on a sticky note, or sometimes on my hand with a Sharpie and I look at if I feel like I need a reminder.

8. Lately, two messages have stuck in my head.

9. Your worth is greater than your output.

10. Envision your perfect life.

11. I go through my day, knowing that telling kids to pick up their trash, and focus on their work, and listening to conversations like this–“There’s a map by Egypt–is it a place?” “Yeah, it’s in Las Vegas”–is SO not my jam. I hate being in charge of behavior. And I’m not great at it, because why is it so damn difficult to do the right thing? Like why can’t you pick up the milk carton from the floor without being told? And why can’t you just stand in a line without talking, jumping, hitting, singing, screeching? And why can’t you turn to page 83 when the teacher says it forty-five times and writes it on the board and you were on page 82 yesterday? And I think, this is really why I went to college? And I know if I envision my perfect life it mostly involves my front porch, slouchy sweaters, and Charlie.

12. I found out that I won a grant I wrote last year to take kids on a field trip to Denver. The lady that called me said that when she read my essay, she knew that my school was going to win. I know I can write. But the things I have to say right now are pretty bitter. And if I can’t put good out in the world, then I don’t want to share.

13. Someone asked my recently if I like art or writing better. I said art was easy for me–like something I don’t think about, just do. Writing is more of a compulsion. Words pour out naked and raw. I try not to write, but then I can’t sleep. For days. And eventually I find myself typing away.

12. I like going to paint stores and taking my color swatch up to the paint counter and watching the person behind the counter get my can ready. I enjoy watching the precise drop of color and the satisfying noise and vibration of the machine. I wonder if the paint store people like their jobs, or if they would rather be doing anything else?

13. I am painting a new mural. Something that is supposed to inspire hope.

14. I guess it’s kind of working already, because it gives me something to focus on and get me through the week.

15. I’m going to keep showing up and doing my thing, but I know I need something where I can stretch my wild, crazy imagination, my irreverence, and my deep passion for making the world a better place. When it arrives, I hope I am brave enough to listen to what my heart is telling me and accept what the universe has for me.