Thoughts on a Rainy Sunday

I woke up this morning angry at my alarm clock. It was dark and rainy and extremely Novemberish and on top of that it was Sunday. Who sets an alarm on a Sunday? But I wanted to make it to church today so I heeded its warning cry and pried myself out of bed.

It’s the third day of a four day weekend. I should be happy and relaxed. Other than church I had nothing really to do today. It was my bonus day. My chance to catch up on cleaning and maybe watch some TV. Just hang out inside and hide from the rain. Maybe practice guitar

Oh yes – I started playing guitar last month. I spent October as an elementary school music teacher and I was inspired. Which is another thing I haven’t written about here. The teaching contract ended on October 27 but I kept playing guitar. It’s good. My fingers are frequently sore, but it’s good. It’s one of many good but sort of uncomfortable things in my world right now.

guitar

My life has been very hectic since I got back from Burning Man. I arrived home on Friday around dinnertime and on Sunday I got a substitute teaching dispatch to a new class that had just opened at a local school. The classroom had nothing other than desks and chairs. I arrived there the next morning and spent four days there, hoping that I’d get the contract to teach the class for the year. It was interesting setting up a classroom but I didn’t get the job. I was sad for a couple of weeks.

I continued looking for a job and substitute teaching. Finally, on my fifth job interview I got the four week music teaching contract. It was so much fun. I was a total celebrity amongst the kindergartners. We listened to “Puff the Magic Dragon” and danced with scarves. I was sad to leave, but the Monday after I left I got another job offer. Now I teach computers and grade 2/3 three days each week, and substitute teach the other two. This contract lasts until June 30th so I know where I’ll be the rest of the year. It’s good, and a nice balance between feeling settled and having the flexibility to book a Friday off if I want to.

But. There has been a lot of change. A lot of stretching myself and learning and feeling out of my depth. Good but uncomfortable. This weekend was my chance to finally rest. Catch my breath. Clean my extremely messy house.

rainCleaning doesn’t really float my boat though. So I plotted my escape. Yesterday I took the kids shopping on Granville Island. I bought chocolate and a hand-made broom. Such frivolous purchases, but they made me happy. After a couple of hours, though, I was frantic. Completely beside myself. I came home and collapsed. I had no energy left for anything. Which brings me to this morning.

Exhausted. Angry at my alarm clock and the world. Needing something that would actually leave me feeling restored.

Then I remembered: writing. Writing is my refuge. My way to make sense of things. The thing that makes me feel like myself again. And so I made myself a pot of tea and sat down here in this chair. I returned to this place that remains patiently waiting for me in spite of my neglect. This place that is completely and totally my own.

Some days I’m angry at the world. Some days the rain and the dark and the weight of obligation overwhelm me. Some days two months of job hunting and change and adjustment and learning the ropes gets to me. Some days I need to close my eyes to the things I could do or even should do and open them to the thing that will feed my soul.

And so I’m here. And I’m me again.

The Burning Man Recap

burning man art

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shiftpod burning man

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The Soccer Mom Goes to Burning Man

Burning Man

I've gone through some big changes in my life in the past few years. Going back to school. Applying to, and completing, teacher training. Getting my minor in environmental education, and re-discovering my love for the outdoors and the good … [Read more ...]

My Name is Not Megan

Strocel Family Portrait

I am not really much of a blogger anymore, but I still get a lot of unsolicited email. I usually ignore it. When people get in touch asking me to cover stories I understand why they're doing it, and to some extent I'm flattered, but I just really … [Read more ...]

Poem for March: All In

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