Despite my reluctance to post this…I’m going to go for it. I don’t know why this feels more personal than writing about the Diva Cup, but it does. Anyway, it may “disappear” within a month, but I just feel that it’s important to post at this time.
In brief, my regular readers know how much I have struggled with substitute teaching (or teaching, at all). It is quite contrary to my extremely introverted personality and takes so much out of me, that I am not able to function well after most days. There are many rewards to teaching that I find wonderfully fulfilling…but nothing has been able to “fill up my well” even halfway. It is just too hard for me to put so much energy outward, when I am a naturally inward-moving person.
Since writing about this issue, I have chosen to continue subbing (out of financial necessity) while seriously pondering my next step. I could write an entire post about the goals I have for myself. And perhaps I will write about that in the future. But let’s just say that everything seems ever so slightly out of reach – financially and energetically. I sometimes feel like I’m in my early 20’s again, with ten million choices swirling around me and WHICH ONE SHOULD I CHOOSE????
While pondering this question, I realized that there is no step I can take in any direction without first fully clearing out the muck and creating a strong, organized foundation upon which to build. I have been inspired by my friends who are downsizing, and fellow bloggers who are de-cluttering, like Mon at Holistic Mama. And the most amazing thing happened. The more I de-cluttered, the more I felt pulled back to my old, forgotten creative expressions. Simultaneously, sub jobs dried up quickly and inexplicably. I haven’t worked in nearly a month, which is panic-inducing. However, I have been determined not to succumb to fear. Now is the time to direct my energies into something new. Or at least that’s what it appears the Universe is pushing me to do.
There are two venues that I am currently putting my energies into. First, I have always wanted to have an herbal business, in which I make lotions, lip balms, tinctures, etc. It has been a dream of mine for many years now, but I have never done it because there are millions of other women basically selling the same stuff. And even though I have had incredible emotional and financial support and encouragement about this from friends and family…still, I resisted.
Well, I’m resisting no more. I’m going to give it a try. I can only afford a small investment at this time, and will be limiting myself to lotions and lip balms and a few other items sold through Etsy. (I won’t be selling tinctures or other such things, as I have no herbal certification – but maybe someday…) I don’t expect to make a living off this, per se, certainly not right off. But it is a direction in which I desperately want to go. And sometimes you have to take a step forward without knowing what lies beyond in order to get to where you ultimately want to be.
The thing is: Thinking about this makes me HAPPY. Unlike teaching, which fills me with dread, misery, and fear. I want to pursue this path, and leave my student record sheets, assessments, disciplinary tactics, and pinstripe pants behind.
And in the long term: Writing has shouted out to me. There is so much I could say about this…but I will try to condense. I spent my twenties writing six novels – most of them awful. I was always mad at myself for taking ten years to earn my B.A. but deep down, I knew I was in my own kind of school – that I was learning and honing my craft by reading, by writing, by endlessly revising, and actually putting together those six novels.
When I finished the sixth one, in 2003, I was still deeply dissatisfied with it (my perfectionism kicked in). And after a mere three rejection letters from publishers, I put it away and vowed to “get serious” and get a “real” career. Hence, I finally finished college a few years later. During grad school (my ticket to a “real” career), I had an inspiration for another book I wanted to write. But imagine my surprise when I was hit with a three-year bout of writer’s block after writing only 15 pages. Again, writing was put away to pursue my degree and “get serious” about life.
A lot of things changed. My motivation as a writer altered completely, leaving me to try to find where to “tap in” for inspiration. And to be honest, I think much of the draw of writing in my late teens and early twenties was the desire to be famous. To be validated by popularity. Now that I’m in my thirties, that has changed, as well. Though I can’t deny that publishing, for whatever reason, is still deeply important to me. I think writers, on some level, write to be read. If we are not read, part of the cycle of creativity goes unfed, leaving us wanting.
Anyway…nothing could’ve surprised me more than the guidance I got after clearing out my space and my mind. I was compelled to go back to my sixth novel, finish editing it, and…try again to get it published. I resisted that for over a month, wanting to focus on the new book I started a few years ago. But no…I was drawn back to my sixth book again and again.
After having many dreams about it, experiencing some synchronistic events, and even feeling the presence of my departed uncle (who was one of my biggest “fans” in his time on this earth), I finally opened my manuscript files and got to work. I also realized why I was drawn to do so. I believe that disapproving of this novel was just another way of shutting the door on myself. If we hold out for perfection in ourselves or in what we do, we will never truly be alive. And I have been guilty of giving myself “creative abortions” time and time again, for a multitude of self-destructive reasons.
I used my dissatisfaction with the book as another reason to prove my so-called unworthiness. And I used it to create more strife and drama and unhappiness in my life, which is what I believed I needed and deserved. I felt different my whole life because I never did anything the way my friends did – I didn’t finish school at 22, start a career, get married, or have a baby. When I felt I couldn’t stand being different anymore, I used my “failure” as a writer as an excuse to finally catch up to everyone else – to go back to school, get my B.A. and my M.A.T….and start leading a life that ultimately ended up being terribly unfulfilling.
I don’t have particular expectations about writing, anymore than I do about selling my own lotions. It is just what has always been one of the greatest passions of my life, and I have always wanted to pursue it. I feel that, in committing to the path of self-acceptance that I have started on, I have to embrace my writing, as well. I will pursue publishing, though not for validation, fame, or financial reasons – simply because I want to complete the circle of energy created when one puts pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard).
So, neither of these opportunities is necessarily going to put rent money in my pockets anytime soon…yet since I have cleared out the clutter, I feel it is imperative that I pursue them. One cannot keep putting energy into something that diminishes. Otherwise, there will be nothing left. I don’t know where subbing will go from here – again, I will take jobs if they are offered, as I am quite in need of the money – but if next month is anything like this month…things will get interesting around here.
Copyright: A Green Spell
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Please be aware this year that many face paints on the market (including those sold for use on children) contain lead, nickel, cobalt, and chromium. The 






