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I have been home from the Philippines almost a week. Usually when I get back from a trip, I am happy to sleep in my own bed and be around all that’s familiar. I didn’t feel any of that upon my return. It was good to hold my cats, see my son and connect with my friends, but I realized that this house, this town, this place is symbolic of the cage I have put myself in. I am antsy for change, freedom.

The house was much as I left it, despite, three teenagers, a man, two cats, and a part-time dog being in the house while I was gone. No one did a damn thing with the yard. I believe it rained everyday for two weeks and my weeds flourished. I have spent the last three days waging a war on taking my yard back.

I have thoughts on gardening that aren’t all positive, but one great thing about it is that it allows a lot of contemplation time. People keep asking me if I am moving to the Philippines. While my experience there was life changing, it really stirred other desires rather than retiring and living like a queen.

I keep thinking about the bone thin cats, and scraped up dogs, and shelters built from tin and plastic. I think about walking in the rainforest and seeing for myself the delicate green leaves reaching for the light. It stirred this great desire of humanitarianism inside my soul. Also it made me yearn for all the vistas I have yet to experience. It made me realize that I still want to help others, help the world, help kids, but I also need the freedom to be creative and not be bound to four walls and a single text. I need to be able to breathe.

The weeds have not been completely demolished and I didn’t get to painting the bathroom, or cleaning the porches, but I am leaving home again. This time in a van with high school kids failing at school. Some of them I have known since kindergarten, some of them are new to me. I don’t really know all their stories or the reasons why they are not succeeding at school, but I understand how the expectations of the classroom can be disjointed. I understand about checking out and failing. In some ways, I have been floundering in the classroom, feeling stifled and unable to help kids the way I feel they need to be helped.

The offer to join road school came at just the right time for me. The idea of going on the road with kids speaks to me. It’s a way to bring new vistas, and rekindle hope for kids who are struggling to find their way. It’s creative, brave, and challenging.

I feel both excited and nervous about this new adventure and even though I know I should be rested for my first day on the road. I couldn’t sleep and when I did I dreamed I was in the backyard of the house I grew up in. It was different. The grass showed signs of being mowed, but was too tall in places. The bamboo was growing in random places, instead of in the patch by the pond. The pond was gone, but the trees were still there, but trimmed way back; the giant limbs cut short. I walked around remembering how things used to be. The mower was out and my dad’s faded red toolbox was nearby. The house was empty, but the kitchen was full of snacks Mom had made for my trip. My old art students were with me, one of them grabbing up a sweatshirt I left behind on the over grown grass and another hitting the garage door button so we could pull the van onto the road. I woke up thinking about all that.

I can see how this dream took me back to my foundations of my youth. My parents gave me tools and nourished me with love which is at my core. The yard symbolizes that while I have transformed, there are many things still growing and continuing to flourish. My art students reminded me of my creativity and how much comfort and joy creating gives me and I love sharing that joy with others.

All the roads I have traveled have lead me right here. Road School might be the perfect blend of all my gifts, talents, and experiences. I am ready to share the magic of new vistas with students. May it continue to be transforming and life changing for us all.