My Real Job

I went back to school today, in an official capacity. I've been back for weeks, moving things around, preparing, planning, buying things. I'm going to teach KINDERGARTEN this year! That was my first gig at Davis Elementary back in 2004. It's exciting to be returning.

This will be my thirteenth year teaching. I can hardly believe it. Through the years I've often caught myself wondering, "Is this my real job? Was I meant to do something else? Something loftier? More difficult? More praiseworthy?" Many of you may remember conversations along these lines. I considered law school, applied fruitlessly to the Michener Center for Writers twice, thought about psychology, The Peace Corps, and teaching abroad. I don't know but the more I think about it, it seems my real job is being here, right now, right here.

I've always struggled with contentment. I always assumed it meant I was being lazy. Whenever things start to feel peaceful I often feel guilty. It's like I'm assuming life is supposed to hurt, so when it starts feeling placid, I start to feel I should shake things up real hard, make things strange and unfamiliar enough to encourage a healthy dose of anxiety (not so healthy, as it turns out) and then I feel like I'm doing my part to better myself, to better the world! I guess my secret mantra was something like "If it hurts, that means it's working!" What if it just isn't the case? What if it's okay to be good at something and stick with it, rather than conquering some new obstacle or tackling another venture? I'm not saying I'll never pursue grad school or change careers. All I'm saying is I like where I am and I'm grateful to be here. It feels great to be in a family at work. It feels magnificent to lay down roots and water and tend them, to reflect on years of friendship; birthdays, weddings, babies, funerals, accomplishments, hardships; going through it all, together.

Ever since I can remember I've been bothered by a feeling of wanting to run. When I was little I wanted so badly to go away to a far away place and attend a boarding school. When I was first in college I longed to be abroad. As a teacher I've often wanted to "graduate" to some new reality. What if the real problem is inside? Maybe the journey I really need to take begins and ends in my own soul. It's not in Spain. It's not in Seattle. It's not even downtown somewhere.

I've been listening to one of my favorite books on CD. I've done this a few times a year for the last few years. I read or listen to Mere Christianity by CS Lewis. I love this book. I've read it so many times and I always seem to discover new things about myself and reality each time. It's such a treasure. This time I felt a new revelation swell in my heart. My real job has very little to do with paychecks, status, prestige, or wealth. It has more to do with ennobling my own and then others' souls. My real job is to keep God's commandments, not judge other people along the way, and remind others by my every act that they are the very offspring of deity. My real job is to rely so heavily on my Savior and my Father that I forget about relying on my own strength for things and I remember that each breath I take is a gift. My real job is to remember that I am really entitled to very little, and that I owe a great deal to my students, my friends, my family, my ancestors, my descendants, myself and my Father in Heaven. This is my real job. And I must take it very seriously if I expect to love and to be loved, truly, in the purest sense. I must watch myself and my thoughts, being careful to avoid pride and all its toxic cousins. I must never compete when it comes to the worth of another. That is a futile and sickening endeavor for so many reasons, too many to list. It is my job to be kind when it's difficult, to be sincere when I'd rather save face, to be strong when I am dog tired, to be humble when I'd rather show off, and to be encouraged when I'd sooner turn to doubt and fear. This is my real job. It's my job to be good to you. It's my job to be honest with you. It's my job to be a little mirror showing you how gorgeous you are. You are. And how.

Lost and Found

This summer has yielded much more than its share of drama ranging from bliss to trauma and everything in between. Sometimes I actually wish my life were more parts boring and less parts intense. But in truth, those moments are rare. I like life in brassy trumpets.

Tonight I feel very tired. I've been losing things, important things: friends, chances, my sensibilities...more. But in these loses I have found things. I've found opportunities, renewal, faith, old friends, new friends, and I found my strength again.

I was really sick last week. It was scary and sad. For a couple seconds I thought I was quite alone in the world. I was so wrong. No sooner had I felt the pinch of self pity enter my heart did I start realizing I was actually the luckiest girl in the world. I received so many flowers this place looked like Ms. America's dressing room. I got chocolates, balloons, ice cream, dinners, lunches, cookies, books, movies, the most beautiful key chain ever, and a collector's decorative plate, heart-shaped, with a little cherub painted on it, an Iron and Wine concert ticket and some very pretty nail polish. I received loving cards, notes, letters and had great visits and conversations on the phone. Just when I was giving in to a serious bout of self doubt, love came rushing in like a welcome flood. I just soaked it up, reveled, cried, and prayed for forgiveness for being such a faithless ingrate. I am so grateful, so grateful.

It seems like life is sifting things for me, shaking things out. Things not meant to stick are falling away. True things, good things, things worth my time and attention, those things stick, almost despite my errors in word, deed, or conception. This is good news because I can be pretty silly often. My judgement often leaves a lot to be desired. But I feel like there are safety nets all around, and it doesn't matter how duped I get with this or that person, this or that idea, in the end the truth is always going to shine through, always. Real things will always set themselves apart from the counterfeit. My true friends will always be my friends, always. Some will fall away. Some will move away. Some will pass away. That's okay. We'll meet again and maybe we'll be much more worthy of each others' affections at that point.

To those who offered love and comfort last week, possibly one of the most difficult weeks of my adult life so far, thank you for your help. Thank you for remembering me and helping me to feel cherished. It made all the difference. You found me.

"I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see..."
(Amazing Grace)