your heart is an empty room
or, in other words; i can't afford therapy so i'm taking up writing again.
I think I need to start writing again for my own sanity. It seems like with every low point, I somehow find myself back at this silly and insignificant journal re-reading my accounts of the past. Sometimes it's humbling, sometimes it's funny, and sometimes I feel like the entries can't be that old; shouldn't I be farther along by now?
Things are going well in life in general. I'm finally in a position that I get paid decently for, I love what I do, and I'm good at it. The children bring me joy every day - school-agers seemed like a scary thing initially since I had become accustomed to working with infants and toddlers, but they really are the best thing to happen to my career. In fact, the last year I've spent working in the schools has given me so much more faith in myself as a teacher and as an adult in general. The relationship I have with my kids is reciprocal - I feel my management of the teachers and program really helps them, and the time I get to enjoy one-on-one in the classrooms enriches my life in many aspects. One of my favorite parts of my job is the conversation with the kids. They really are different today; growing up so much faster and being so much more world-savvy. Nothing is sugar-coated anymore. This could be a good thing and a bad thing. I think back to my days as a child and how sheltered I was. In retrospect, I'm glad for that time of naiveté. I think nowadays that innocence is lost early on.
The job keeps me busy. That's a good thing. Thoughts of upcoming plans and events swim around in my head even after I leave the school. I feel like there is a real passion in me for what I'm doing. The only thing that I enjoy doing comparatively is photography, but that's a completely different ballgame. Ever since doing the two weddings back-to-back in June, I've shied away from the lens...
Moving here has been a double-edged sword. On one hand, I feel that the larger city has afforded me opportunities that never would have surfaced in Paducah. However, as I look back on pictures I've taken and count the seasons and days that have passed... I wonder what experiences I may have missed back home. I miss people deeply. It's not that "city folk" or even "northerners" are bad people. It's just the familiarity that I miss. And I wonder, when I eventually return to the area, will it be completely different to me? Every time I return it seems I feel a little more like a visitor and not a former resident. It's a bittersweet feeling.
I'm more solitary than ever... which is probably true to my personality. I've always been kind of a loner at heart. Just like anyone else, I shapeshift when it comes to social situations, depending on the company. Those who know me in a coworker or acquaintance capacity would probably be surprised to know the "different" me. I suppose my general feeling here is that I'm kind of a lost soul... I'm sure if I tried harder I could feel comfortable here. Part of me has held back for the last four years, though...
And all you see
Is where else you could be
When you're at home
Out on the street
Are so many possibilities
To not be alone
I think I need to start writing again for my own sanity. It seems like with every low point, I somehow find myself back at this silly and insignificant journal re-reading my accounts of the past. Sometimes it's humbling, sometimes it's funny, and sometimes I feel like the entries can't be that old; shouldn't I be farther along by now?
Things are going well in life in general. I'm finally in a position that I get paid decently for, I love what I do, and I'm good at it. The children bring me joy every day - school-agers seemed like a scary thing initially since I had become accustomed to working with infants and toddlers, but they really are the best thing to happen to my career. In fact, the last year I've spent working in the schools has given me so much more faith in myself as a teacher and as an adult in general. The relationship I have with my kids is reciprocal - I feel my management of the teachers and program really helps them, and the time I get to enjoy one-on-one in the classrooms enriches my life in many aspects. One of my favorite parts of my job is the conversation with the kids. They really are different today; growing up so much faster and being so much more world-savvy. Nothing is sugar-coated anymore. This could be a good thing and a bad thing. I think back to my days as a child and how sheltered I was. In retrospect, I'm glad for that time of naiveté. I think nowadays that innocence is lost early on.
The job keeps me busy. That's a good thing. Thoughts of upcoming plans and events swim around in my head even after I leave the school. I feel like there is a real passion in me for what I'm doing. The only thing that I enjoy doing comparatively is photography, but that's a completely different ballgame. Ever since doing the two weddings back-to-back in June, I've shied away from the lens...
Moving here has been a double-edged sword. On one hand, I feel that the larger city has afforded me opportunities that never would have surfaced in Paducah. However, as I look back on pictures I've taken and count the seasons and days that have passed... I wonder what experiences I may have missed back home. I miss people deeply. It's not that "city folk" or even "northerners" are bad people. It's just the familiarity that I miss. And I wonder, when I eventually return to the area, will it be completely different to me? Every time I return it seems I feel a little more like a visitor and not a former resident. It's a bittersweet feeling.
I'm more solitary than ever... which is probably true to my personality. I've always been kind of a loner at heart. Just like anyone else, I shapeshift when it comes to social situations, depending on the company. Those who know me in a coworker or acquaintance capacity would probably be surprised to know the "different" me. I suppose my general feeling here is that I'm kind of a lost soul... I'm sure if I tried harder I could feel comfortable here. Part of me has held back for the last four years, though...
And all you see
Is where else you could be
When you're at home
Out on the street
Are so many possibilities
To not be alone