Just me.

So far I have been documenting the preparation. The getting through all the hoops so that I can start. Start to write, start to be unemployed, start to be on this unknown journey. Okay, okay I know I am already on the journey, but now I really am. I’m in that moment of free fall. And all those lessons of how to fly, all that mental prep, everything has to kick in soon or I’ll fall flat. Of course I know that even as I am writing this, that it is ridiculous. I’m already flying, I’m being redundant in every way.

School is over. I had a week. Then I became a hostess. Now I’m done helping others and I really have to help myself. This is it, there is no one else to do things for, no one else I have to take care of, no more responsibilities to the school. It’s just me.

It’s just me. How weird is that to have just me be my focus. Damn, just me. Really I am more comfortable with something or someone else to have to put my focus on, but it’s just me now.

I just had my last conversation with my other half for a month. No phones. I’m all packed. I’m headed to Indonesia for a month. The house is all closed up, save the dishes, I hate washing dishes – but it will get done before the next two hours are up and my ride to the airport is here. My ride is one of the first friends I made when I moved here. And now three years later, she is married and leaving. And it is just me.

It’s a bit scary to know that it is just me that I have to focus on. Just me.

Within the last month I have gotten a severe boiling grease burn on one leg, a severe dog bite on the other leg. A sign that I am not grounded?

I’m meeting others in Indo. My sister will join me in a week. But still, it is just me. It needs to be just me. Or else it can never be more then me.

From Product to Process

I learned in my child development courses and in my art therapy courses that you never ask a child what their painting or drawing is, never assume what it is either. Nor do you praise it with an "Oh what a wonderful grand picture! I’ll frame it on the fridge.”

The reason being children create not for products sake, but for the process. They 'do' because they have an inner guide telling them to 'do'. We as adults are the ones who turn their joyous efforts into something that is judged good or bad. As we force labels, give praise, or critique the child learns that there must be a product and end result, something to show for all the hard work. If they themselves were not happy with their work and an adult praises it, then the child understands that their effort was good enough. Why challenge themselves when the adults are happy with a few squiggly lines?

I’m trying to preprogram myself away from all those years of training when I learned to seek approval over personal satisfaction, over the journey, over the process.

It’s been 3 working days since ‘retirement.’ I did go to the school, did walk around in a few circles, then I left. Came again the next day, but fewer circles, less time there. And now I think I’m over the first hill. I sat down, I made my lists, I made my rough draft schedule, I organized my home, and I started following through. I'm getting to be okay with the fact that I might not be published, that I don't have to all of a sudden be producing results, that this path could lead to another. That its not about the product.

In my training they told us to instead comment on the shape of a line, the colors the child used, and ask them, ‘are you happy with your work? Then I am too.’

I’m continuing my journey, and with each step I’m working on enjoying the sound of my foot on the path, the breeze in my face, the sun on my shoulders, and the process of a person living with intention.

The Roller Coaster

You know that moment when you are slowly on the way up the hill of the roller coaster, inching your way along all the while knowing that there is a huge drop just beyond that last bit of track you see? And there is no turning back, you my friend are strapped in, it is inevitable you are going to drop, fast, and there are going to be twists and turns and more ups and more downs, and there is no getting off this ride, you are strapped in till the end. It's exciting, it's terrifying.

Well, it’s kinda like that. Here I am in the last week of school. Three more days left of children, then cleaning up the class. Still so involved that the thought of not being the teacher seems ludicrous, but yeah its reality. And why, why in the world would I be feeling annoyed and stressed when it is home stretch time? It’s that hill, oh God I always hated that hill. I wander if perhaps I am trying to hold onto that hill the closer I get to the drop. I think that means that I am doing the right thing. The right things are always the hard ones right, or so it seems. Just wow, I can’t believe how hard it is to let go of a 9-5 job for me, does not mesh with my vision.

My dear friend has so far presented me with two gifts in the last two days. Day 1 of ‘retirement’ preparation, and Day 2. Day 1 was a tin of cigars – learn how to relax and enjoy. Day 2 was an energizing mixture of aromatherapy oil to keep me energized in my new life. She’s getting me ready as if she knows that I am not capable of doing it myself, that at the rate I am going it is going to be so overwhelming that first day of no children will probably find me at the school wandering around in dismay. Thankfully the universe is putting people like that in my path.