Confessions of a 2nd Year Teacher

Even though I had a pretty good short trip to Bethel for a Special Education inservice (I was inspired, and challenged, and I truly was full of life and new knowledge), I awoke this morning in a depression. I know this blog is called "Radiate Warmth" and I usually try to help people through sharing the good things of life, but today maybe it should be called "Wallow in Self Pity." I don't really know what it is. I just don't really want to be here right now (and by here I mean on this giant igneous rock in the middle of an abyss of a sea), and the year has only begun, we have so far to go and I feel like so many people are depending on me and all I want to say is "Deal with it!" I don't even really feel like teaching this week (is that wrong), all I want to do is go home or lay in bed and watch movies. Maybe I need you guys to send me some love to get me straight, or maybe I should just get over it.

I didn't experience this feeling last year because I was too bright eyed and bushy tailed and busy trying to save the world and make it a better place. Unfortunately I also have a way of swimming into the center of the dilemma and now that I further begin to understand my place in this village/district/state I feel less and less like I am supposed to be here, or that I can really accomplish anything or make a lasting impression. Kind of a disconcerting thought to tell you the truth. Trying to make a difference in a foreign place takes fitness. What I mean by fitness is that not everyone can just come up here and go day in and day out, over and over, putting their hearts out on the line, sacrificing themselves and their life and their comfort and their preference and their time and also be expected to be sunshine and lolly pops all the time. Sometimes we wear out, and today is one of those days.

Since these days have been few and far between over the last year I'm going to just let it be for now and hope that tomorrow is better. These funks we get into have to run their natural course like a flu, right now I have a funk fever...it'll pass.

I feel like this next poem is possibly some of my best work to date (whiny self pity is good for something). I wrote it last week when this feeling in my stomach began. Maybe it will become a song. I hope you will take the time to respond.

Awkwardly Simple
8-27-08

Our silver arms,
At least act like you made me.
Always a new plow
Scares us. Can you hear me?
You asked to come in.
What kinda way is this?
What kinda way is this?
You came and saw,
No right to’ve saw.
Oh no. Now way.

How scared was I?
And I have to spring on.
Who will apply
On the yearning seafloor?
You don’t scare me.
I’m walking away this time
I’m walking away this time.
I can’t decide how far it goes
House cleaning and slow lies
House cleaning and slow lies
But I decide my own worth.
Oh no. Oh.

Invested years,
And loosened ears,
You can’t get out,
Or run down it.
I ache about it.
Follow me down.

I live in times
Without kisses.
What is my plan
To undo steep hands?
Is that me rocking?
Is that knocking
In me so simple?
Awkwardly simple.

I fell off like
A flipping fall line.
I’ve done this highlight.
Now let go life.
In the aura
You push too for it
At last.
Were you shoved in?
Have you climbed over
A four leafed clover?
I can’t get out
I want the out.

I live in times
Without kisses.
What is my plan
To undo steep hands?
Is that me rocking?
Is that the knocking
In me so simple?
Awkwardly simple.


This poem is kind of about a conversation with yourself and how you can feel so deeply about the future and past simultaneously while also being completely caught up in the moment. Its kind of where all of time swirls together.

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