Almost every blog I follow disappears for a period. Days, weeks, months. Usually, the disappearance is followed by an apology. I don’t have one to offer. My disappearance has been one of introspection, hibernation. Oddly, there aren’t words for it, and I’m not sure I’m back in any regular sort of way, but I do miss writing.
So, tonight I type to type. I type to find words again, to reestablish a flow, to commit myself to a life of writing, not just a few years here and there, as it has always been in the past. My disappearance has been more than just going back to my world as a teacher. It has been about life and balance and a space of quiet. Words aren’t quiet.
My truth is changing. What I wrote before was true, but I’m not sure it is my truth anymore, or somehow it feels stale, repetitive. It is hard to write something that no longer resonates, fiction or otherwise. I’m finding a new space, which might mean new words, I’m not sure. A new book, a new perspective on teaching, on life.
Beginning again with a fresh group of students is oddly comforting and stifling simultaneously. When I envisioned myself as a teacher, I always questioned when the repetition would catch up to me. I’m restless by nature. As I write the date on our message each morning, I feel time slipping into a strange blur, is it 2011? 2013? 2015?
This is the first time I am repeating fourth grade on my own. Last year’s batch was fourth and then fifth, two years together. I like the feeling of knowing what I’m doing now. There is a confidence and ease that was not there before, but there is also the eery feeling of the same kids, just different faces, different names, learning the same things again, hitting the same stumbling blocks, celebrating the same successes.
I admire teachers who teach for the long haul. Maybe it will be me, this year is just off to a strange start. I miss the old faces who drop by each morning, eager to hug me, brag about their accomplishments. Maybe that’s the problem. As easy as it is to fall in love with children, it is hard to let them go. Maybe my heart is protecting me as I open up to thirty new souls. It’s easier to find reasons to resist than surrender.
So, there you have it. My first real words in weeks. A few tears, too. Life is change and the same, all at once. I am learning.
oliviaobryon 
Once again, although we come from different places and are experiencing different things, you hit the nail on the head for a feeling I’m struggling with. “It is hard to write something that no longer resonates, fiction or otherwise.” I’m feeling that way about my blogging a lot these days, which is why I’m just not blogging as often.
“It has been about life and balance and a space of quiet. Words aren’t quiet.” Yes, yes, and yes. But … words can be quiet, but not when you’re using them to blog to the world. Another thing I’m struggling with. I need to bring some of those words and thoughts back into me and not share quite so much. I’m taking baby steps.
Keep striving for that balance you need. It’s a lifetime effort for thinkers like you. 🙂
Yes, I think you’re onto something with the difference between words shared publicly and words written without an immediate audience. I’ve had the urge to ditch blogging altogether and just write for myself lately, but it’s a lifeline I want to keep alive. So, I think less blog, more fiction/etc. Now for the discipline to pull myself out of hibernation… Thanks for the encouragement/thoughts. Off to read your book for a bit.
I imagine there’s something of a deja vu feeling to starting a new school year. It’s routine, but not routine, comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Take your time to find yourself and what you’re about.
Yes, deja vu is the perfect way to put it. 🙂
Not much to say but hang in there….and *hugs*.
Thanks Kitt, I’ll be fine, it’s just an interesting space to find myself… 🙂
I know you will. 🙂