Cannot help myself

30 08 2011

The work that is expected of a counselling teacher, I would imagine, should not be vastly different from that of a counsellor or a teacher, albeit the job description itself would produce some sort of amalgamation of the two. The duties, however, would remain the same.

At least, that is the impression that I am getting from the school I am teaching at.

The current heartache I am feeling is a result of one of the conversations I had with a student today. This particular student is close to my heart, and I see in them a helplessness that is so reminiscent of us all: in our need for help, we become desperate, and long for… something more than this. Hearing the student’s difficulties, with myself feeling entirely inadequate at providing any sort of guidance or relief, this afternoon has felt very much like the following video, in which Dane Cook talks about those days when nothing will suffice but a good cry:

The thought that I am pondering right now, then, is what to do with the gratitude of “passion and compassion” that I feel for this student’s situation, but, more importantly, how I can fully know that I “did my best”… something to pray about then.

Just a quick one tonight

22 08 2011

This afternoon, ny Novel and Creative Writing class were assigned Of Mice and Men as their first novel to study, and one student has already finished it.

He and I are texting back and forth about his thoughts and insights into the novel. This is why I love my job!

We are safe

20 08 2011

It’s a beautiful day outside, and I am sitting at the dining table grading some students’ work from the week, listening to Church Music by David Crowder*Band and enjoying the spaghetti salad (my own creation: cold spaghetti, tuna, sliced red and yellow peppers, baby cucumbers, local tomatoes, sweet gherkins, grated cheese, with olive oil and vinegar dressing) I’ve been having for lunch, dinner, and a snack for the past 2 days.

And all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions, eclipsed by glory…

Yet, for the longest and most breath-taking moment, it was all I could do to choke back tears of longing for days of innocence, long gone. When times were easier, and life was simpler.

Meeting up with a friend at lunch was lovely, but some of the questions that were brought up were difficult, and I struggled to stay in my seat. It was nothing to do with the company, but everything to do with the unresolved nature of the subject of the questions.

And then Facebook decided to kick me while I was down, and a status that I had written 2 years ago about a group I was involved in at the time came up. And tears flooded my eyes but I did not let them fall.

I did not let them fall.

Cycling mishaps and then some – but not really

19 08 2011

This is what I wrote just now: Shortly after I moved house, I bought my first bicycle in over 10 years, and have been riding almost every day.

But then I decided it was too boring, and I couldn’t find it in myself to continue, moving on eventually (probably) to talk about how annoyed I’ve been getting at the pedestrians who think it is their prerogative to walk on the cycle path.

So instead of boring even myself, I offer this website, which, in its depiction of dogs and cats shaking themselves, is pure genius.

When there’s no other thing in sight…

3 08 2011

This may be a blanket statement, but the writing process is so often affected by so many factors: inspiration, motivation, energy, audience, perseverance… the list could go on for days. Sitting here at my desk now, having spent several minutes doing a sum total of nothing important, but at the same time cognisant of the fact that I am failing terribly at keeping the pledge of one post a week this year as a means of keeping a record.

Having started back at work in earnest yesterday, there are already many items on my ‘to-do’ list, and one of the considerations I need to make, and which is feeling like a bit of a dilemma, is whether to put up a poster that I bought from The Oatmeal about 10 commonly misspelled words that uses the word “a-hole” in the context of suggesting that one refrains from spelling ‘definitely’ as ‘definately’, the premise being that if one spells the word as the latter, then one is an “a-hole”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the current [ethical] dilemma I have at work. Should I put up the poster?

On another note completely, it drives me foaming at the mouth with frustration and irritation when someone says something, which they may not have meant anything by, that just successfully hits you in the “you’re not a part of this at all” spot. As in, “We have someone who does that in our _________.”

Makes you feel alive.