23

At one time in my life, a wise man told me that we are seldom prepared for our lives, yet we daily live them. I thought I understood the depth of the statement while I was in college. I saw myself in a time of struggle, and I was beginning to find myself surprised at my ability to make my ends meet as a deli-superstar while studying mathematics.

I now understand the statement a bit more now that I am standing on the precipice of a long pursuit towards a dream. I've always wanted to be an educator, and I don't doubt for one moment that I won't be happy as a teacher if I compromise for a minimum commitment. Not but a few days ago, I had an insatiable fear eating at me for the profession I have taken up. The voices of cynicism I heard during student teaching (my own included) rang through my head repeatedly. However, today, I came to realization that I am no longer crippled by fear.

I must admit, I feel unprepared. However, I don't feel unready. As time is elapsing my fear is diminishing, which is a first. I have a tendency to get into my own head when something bigger than me rears its head. Some could call it a performance anxiety, and I won't disagree with them.

Now, what will make this post different from a journal entry will be my sharing some insight which may assist the reader. At this stage, all five of you followers! The simple adage I used to open the post will be an adequate summary. But not before I mention something I learned about fear not too long ago.

Fear isn't a doorway. It can't truly shut off any opportunity. Rather, the response we have to fear is what tends to be the doorway. Not only in the fact that it can close off trials, but that it can open an awakening. The paradigm shift from hesitance to the acceptance of reality clears the mind in a profound way. It almost heightens senses. The existence of fear allows us to approach with caution, yet our accepting the reality of the beast's not going away forces us to continue steadfastly. It's as if we know the avarice's strength while at the same time knowing we can't get around it, so we face it. We face it with almost a bold presence, in that we won't back down, while at the same time carefully calculate our next move.

I must confess, I don't feel brave. But the way I feel doesn't seem to be a relevant portion of the equation anyway. I intellectually understand the above paragraph, but I don't practice the boldness myself at times. Yet the truth stands aside from my perception. Granted, this specific view of fear doesn't hold relevance for every circumstance, but for all intensive purposes, it's the most relevant to myself right now.

To summarize:

We are seldom prepared for our lives, yet we daily live them.

Some Thoughts on "Greatness"

As the time when I embrace my new career(s) fast approaches, I can't help but think on the end goal in mind. Teaching is not a pursuit of normalcy, but rather one of passion. Because of this, there is an expectation I hold myself to, and it's actually that very expectation which is making me feel daunted and horrified about my endeavor.

This expectation being Greatness.

While there is an allotment for "the learning curve" in Greatness, I tend to approach it with a childish impatience. In any case, I've noticed that in all my pursuits, whenever I sought Greatness it wasn't circumstantial, instead it was the meeting of my expectations of Greatness. I've met people who were great runners, ultimate players, mathematicians, and instructors, and they have an interesting take on their Greatness: it doesn't exist.

The pursuit of Greatness is something which may propel us to being great, however, if one never meets their expectation of Greatness they may feel they have fallen short or even frivolously attained upward mobility. A great instructor could change a kids perspective on a given subject matter, and this instructor may do this more often then not, but if this instructor feels that they can only be great if they affect every student this way, they may feel disappointed.

Essentially, I'm learning that approaching Greatness isn't something to be done lightly. It requires a series of small and specific goals, slowly ratcheting up in difficulty. It takes time, patience, and most importantly pragmatism. My goal as an instructor is to inspire. I will feel I am a great instructor when I regularly feel like I am engaging my students. Perhaps I should work towards this by first structuring my lessons well! I can't inspire a student with a lesson if I can't even write it!

I always hate ending a deep thought with a formula, but it appears that pursuing Greatness is something which required A Great Patience from the onset.

Home?

It's been a week now. The moving boxes are in the garbage, the fridge is slowly filling up a bit more, and I am slowly becoming less dependent on my GPS to get me around the city.

One week ago last night I couldn't sleep a wink. I was so terrified about leaving the world as I knew it behind to take a difficult trade in a new town. I wanted life to stop moving so damn fast. Maybe if things were put on pause, I could pause, and take a breath. One day I'm at a job interview, then seemingly the next day I'm in an empty unfurnished apartment, then the next I'm at a U-Haul rental. The pace felt blistering.

Last night, I ended up going to bed early. I was so exhausted from the ultimate tournament I played in all day that day and the day before. Sleep in my bed seemed attractive compared to the floor of a hotel room with a group of men who just recently stopped feeling like strangers. Now I consider these men friends. Just one week ago it felt like it would take months to feel at home, but when I got out of the car from the drive home, I couldn't help but feel a wave of comfort overcome me. As if I had finally arrived. As if I had come home.

One week. In one week I found that life doesn't ever stop and wait. In order to be at peace with the direction of my life I had to move with it. Harmony will never exist in strife, and in order for me to experience that I had to stop fighting against my vector. A huge part of me wanted to view my plight as leaving my comfort zone, but my paradigm slowly shifted from a "leaving" mentality to that of an "entering" mentality. After a few days I was no longer leaving home, but entering a new lot. It wasn't like this place had become a consolation for a lost familiarity anymore; instead it was an adventure.

I think back to all the experiences where things changed and I thought they would be the death of me: moving to college, changing majors, dropping to part-time status and working, etc. All those changes started rough. But as time went on, I found a rhythm. I found different friends in the different circles I became close with. Routines and rituals found their way into my life, and after a while, when I got a feel for my system, things became more natural. The hard part of it all was leaving old friends and senses of comfort behind. I tried to keep everything in light of the changes, but it didn't work. Dorm friends weren't seen as often as work friends, who weren't seen as often as the friends I had made within my major. It took conscious work to just let the shift happen, and be confident enough in myself that I will survive the quake, and thrive in the outcome.

I'm discovering now how terrifying change truly isn't.