Home is my happy place. Traveling pushes me out of this safe place, yet I know it expands my perspective and perceptions. So to grow as well as feel ready, I must map out my journey. With an itinerary I can move forward and still embrace a change, should it arise because I know my foundation, aka plan, is there.
Time: seconds, minutes, hours. I choose how to spend and share them. My choices? Art creations, weight training, talking with my man, and cuddling with my furry kids. All is right in my world.
My second year with freedom to explore life and experiences, I do not miss teaching high school English. The students? Fabulous, enlightening and engaging experiences. But the administrative bullshit overrides and collapses any joy garnered from the daily teen interactions. Boxes to be checked off by the higher ups invades the teaching venue, strangling creativity and spontaneity. Demands for performance by the state mounts, creating teachers’ need to enforce educational triage: cut, cut, cut. I had little or no time to teach writing well. Writing conferences with individual students so each can grow in understanding was just a fantasy idea. Yet we were chastised for poor scores… No time to teach well and thoroughly. Do I miss feeling compromised daily? Nope.