I don’t like being complacent. I don’t like when something is so stagnant for so long that it begins to feel like it’s dying. This strong dislike is probably why teaching as a profession sounded so alluring to me.
Now, I know, teaching –from the outside– seems like so much of the same: wake up for school, listen for when the bells tell you you might have enough time to go pee, have lunch at the school cafeteria if you forgot your bag at home, and come home to do more homework (if you have time after all your clubs and sports meetings are over). But that’s just the structure. The real meat of teaching is in all the time in between – the interactions you have with some kids who might trust you most in their world, the frustrations who have with some others whose personalities you just can’t mesh with, and the creativity that happens when make magic happen in your own classroom.
Creativity needs structure. And I have not had enough of it this past week. I’m making moves though – silently staking out different strategical posts to maximize my spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical health. Isn’t that what summer break should be about anyway?
Where does this all mesh in with my marriage?
Marriage is simply a structure. It is a set-up idea created by somebody who thought it’d be a good idea and others agreed with that somebody. In the end, it is a structure created by man. It’s frequently destroyed, re-assembled, or re-interpreted, for better or worse.
But the gifts of the structure, man. It’s something quite lovely.
My marriage allows me to feel complete freedom – which might strike somebody in the throes of their single life as a ludicrous statement. But hear me out – sure, I ‘don’t get’ to run around with all the Fabios of the world, but I have something that gives me more balance and ultimate joy. I am able to come home knowing and trusting that my man is coming home to me. To someone who has placed all their trust in someone and had it destroyed, I will argue that he was simply an arse and shouldn’t dictate your future happiness. But I digress.
Like one of my English professors once told us, “My wife tells me, ‘You can get hungry anywhere, but you have to eat at home.'”
Knowing that I will have a safe place to which I can return at the end of the day gives me the confidence to try a million endeavors and know that I will still have love to tuck me in at night even if I fail.
So I’m making the moves. I’m re-evaluating relationships that have grown stagnant and I am seeing if it’s possible to revitalize them. I am accepting to end those relationships when I realize it no longer has a pulse. I am so looking forward to growing healthier, more vibrant relationships over time. I know there will be empty space, but I’m allowing myself to be vulnerable in that place and looking forward to the journey.
I’m praying with greater earnest, following the “Thank you, I’m sorry, Please give me” method (it takes 5 minutes, but allows me to reflect on my day more intentionally before I fall asleep).
I am reading as much as I possibly can before teaching in August steals away a bit of my leisure time. I’m investigating self-publishing options to publish the first Wife Reflections Guided Journal: 52 Prompts for a New Wife and looking forward to finally finishing my first novel so I can set that up for publication before autumn.
And I just signed up for a 6-week fitness challenge with the hopes that I won’t just be considered “pretty” or “pretty skinny” but “strong” as well. My fear of never being good enough is having its final hurrah. That Ania is gone.
The structure of my marriage allows me to be more daring and creative in every aspect of my life.
Fear can suck it.