Change is inevitable, whether we want it, look for it, or even know it is happening. It happens! And so another move is in the works. This is the first time though, I have no bloody clue where I’m going, other than back to my home. I will figure it out, prioritize finding a job and getting settled again. This just harkens back to finding what you are passionate about. And as I pack, one of those passions is writing.
Over the last two years I have written over 1.2 million words. Crafted nine different stories, of which six of them are a series, and composed only six poems (sad).
I tell my students you have to find that core of your being where passion resides and allow it a voice. You cannot go through life, trying to accomplish what others want you to do or be. I know personally how that feels. In my twenties, I wanted to please my parents because, frankly, I grew up in a household of mixed traditional ’50ish’ values. Mom and Dad worked, Grandfather lived with us and baby sat the kids. We were a two income household, but that didn’t mean we had discretionary funds for leisure activities. The house was not theirs (yet) and they had to pay rent to my Grandfather on a teacher’s salary that added up to under $20,000 a year in those early days. But we were a family and my parents instilled in each of us, my siblings and I, an independence to strive for our own dreams.
And then there is me. The black sheep that is always restless. Travel and hospitality suits me fine, though I have to admit, our industry, needs to buckle down and address a host of issues. One, salaries and benefits, especially for front line personnel.
I like teaching. I love opening doors of opportunity for students and exposing them to new avenues of thought and careers. Every day I try to educate them beyond my own experience, of what the world is like and then, push them out and go, find your path and seek.
I’m packing my journals, making the hard decision to destroy or not to destroy some. I can’t bring myself to chuck anything like this in the bin. Memories, thoughts are precious and I never know when I could use a phrase.
My Mom’s 90 year old sister was in the hospital recently and I am reminded of our mortality. Mom turned 82 this year and I always love delving into pictures, words and articles of history when I go home, and scavenger around the home front. I beg for stories from both her and my Dad. Mom and her sisters, my Dad all have a creative streak. Mom loves to sew. She has this saying, ‘that with the most fabric wins’ lying around somewhere. I think that pertains also to my journals; they are my little life stories and more.
I ask my students what story do you plan to tell? What legacy do you plan to leave? How will you contribute to society? How will change the world? Sometimes, they can’t fathom changing the world. I say differently, even if it is only with one written or spoken word or story. Someone, somewhere will read it, listen and tell someone else. Just think as it ripples across a spectrum of audiences. It only takes one person to change thought. I usually wink here and spout out Isaac Newton’s name or Thomas Paine. One person can change the world.
So the journals are being packed, none are getting binned. Life is about to change.
And now back to my to do list…find a job!