I am sitting in my living room and a feeling of calm is upon me. My heart rate is so slow that a doctor would worry if his/her stethoscope is broken.
It’s working just fine doc.
This tranquil feeling is far from the standard of this gotta, go, gotta, go, gotta go, go, go guy. I need to get to this place more often.
So, what has he me in Bob Marley everything is gonna be all right mode (By the way, I listened to Three Little Birds a few times while writing this.)?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
No prescriptions or street “meds” here.
I’d like to say I have done such an amazing job of inculcating my need to stop worrying that I mentioned the other day (Stop Worrying). Unfortunately, I am not there yet. Baby steps.
Anyway, I wonder when I will feel this calm again. Probably not for a while.
You see tomorrow, I will return to my 11th year of teaching. As many of you know, I teach English at an inner city High School in Brooklyn. While it’s not as bad as some of the horrors you may have read about or seen in tv/film, it is a very challenging work atmosphere.
To be quite frank, I wish summer break would continue.
I know, I know. Poor me. I have to go back to work after two months off. That’s why I don’t complain. Who wants to hear that? Who doesn’t work in a challenging environment these days? So, I don’t expect sympathy.
Tomorrow I will go through meetings. I will prepare my classroom. I will learn about my students. I will be made aware of what classes I am teaching. It will be a busy few days preparing. And then come the students.
Again, I don’t expect sympathy. However, as I sit here calm and at ease, I hope that I have the energy, determination, patience, and wherewithal to survive another school year. Amend that – I want to thrive. May it be a year of learning, growth, inspiration, introspection, and creativity – for the students and me.
The school year will bring its worries – about students, grades, and more. So, I am going to try and store this calm or at least remember it over the next ten months. I’m gonna need it.
P.S. And then there are my own children. Oh yes, my vow to stop worrying. This isn’t going to be easy. Help me Bob Marley.