Advice to myself
Be a student going forward. A gentle humble student.
For so long (since age 5) I've been the adult. I grew to be a teacher and a leader. I specialized in small ponds where I was most exposed, and succeeded. I became a happy, energized leader. An instructor. A mentor. A colleague. A role model. I burned a path no one I’ve known can understand.
Then I failed and fell. I am down now.
But I am still, as a soul, a curious and open student.
Fall back into that safe happy space. Show the universe your gift—which I believe to be powerful above all else.
For me.
Why are you fighting for ANY lecturn? You'd rather sit at the table. With your people.
Patiently. Quietly. At rest, with ears and eyes open (I lost my sense of smell during COViD. I'm guessing when I say "that's strong garlic!" Fortunately my sense of taste appears to be unaffected, but I can't tell when someone farts or my cats use the litter.)
It's snowing outside. James Joyce taught me what that means. My knowledge of The Dead does not require that I pass it on to anyone else. That knowledge is mine. It is me.
I am listening. And feeling. The snow continues! (I sound like Shelley in Chamonix now!)
For so long (since age 5) I've been the adult. I grew to be a teacher and a leader. I specialized in small ponds where I was most exposed, and succeeded. I became a happy, energized leader. An instructor. A mentor. A colleague. A role model. I burned a path no one I’ve known can understand.
Then I failed and fell. I am down now.
But I am still, as a soul, a curious and open student.
Fall back into that safe happy space. Show the universe your gift—which I believe to be powerful above all else.
For me.
Why are you fighting for ANY lecturn? You'd rather sit at the table. With your people.
Patiently. Quietly. At rest, with ears and eyes open (I lost my sense of smell during COViD. I'm guessing when I say "that's strong garlic!" Fortunately my sense of taste appears to be unaffected, but I can't tell when someone farts or my cats use the litter.)
It's snowing outside. James Joyce taught me what that means. My knowledge of The Dead does not require that I pass it on to anyone else. That knowledge is mine. It is me.
I am listening. And feeling. The snow continues! (I sound like Shelley in Chamonix now!)
My contract with my beautiful mom is over. Neither she nor I wish to continue it. I am free to be a child finally. (Thanks, Yael!!!). I am surrounded by ravens and a coyote and horses and two beautiful cats and even a stuffed toy badger. These are my allies who will lead…
Irony central: I was married for a few years to someone who hated being a student and wanted to control everything. Her control eventually crushed my curiosity, and once I gave up, she annihilated me with a big smile.
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