I have always wanted to be a teacher. When I was young, I propped up my stuffed animals and created imperfect spelling tests. I enjoyed grading them with my red marker. Stickers were placed on the outstanding ones. The methodical grading felt peaceful.
A good teacher must believe in the ideas he teaches, but he must meet another condition; he must believe in the students to whom he offers the ideas.A Course in Miracles
“You have a passion for teaching,” my friend said so matter-of-factly the other day. We were on the phone as I talked about my designs for a remedial academy this summer. I was trying to enlist her as a possible co-teacher for one of the courses to help students develop skills they missed this year. “You love teaching for the sake of teaching. I need a break.”
My brain processed her words quickly. I need a break, I thought, but I don’t need a break from teaching.
I am teacher. We are all teachers in one way or another. We are teaching others how to be, what works, what doesn’t work.
My students are just as much my teachers as I am theirs.
So why does this year feel so empty? Why do I feel as if the lessons I am learning and teaching feel so common and stale? So unmanageable? Why in this moment do I feel so defeated?
You believe that if you allow no change to enter into your ego you will find peace.A Course in Miracles
Perhaps I am continuing to see a separation that does not exist. This year is not separate from others just because there is a pandemic. I am not separate from others despite our masks, our threat of contagion, our six feet of distance.
I am a teacher and we are all teachers. I am teaching you with my ramblings about a life you cannot see or hear outside of my black words on a white background. My details from a bad day or a moment of parental triumph all educate you in a life being led somewhere in this world. This deep, full world of connections…
And you, you are teaching me with your comments, your likes, your posts. The swirling thoughts and ideas as they take form through pictures from a pasture in Sussex, England to a blog post about monkeys circling the sidewalks in India. The mother swollen with grief over her lost son. The female shaman’s journey of self-discovery and lust for life.
These thoughts lift my spirits. These thoughts of the connectivity of teaching and the strong imperative to keep going, despite the despair and pain, are uplifting.
To live another day, to learn and teach, to teach and learn with the hope of change.
Love and Light, my friends.