The idea of daydreaming with a vision dedicated to your well being and livelihood provides those of us who had quite a year in 2024 with abundant hope that we can achieve what we actually set in our mind’s eye anytime, not only because it’s a new year.
The year ended, hence a new beginning, something speaking to us with opportunity and renewal. It’s perfectly natural for some to reject the power of a “new” year, whereas others dream of the possibilities they have yet to behold. The key is to be at peace in your own place, even if you may not know where that is. This is deep and sometimes painful work, I know.
Look around and you may see how this January feels fresh and full of light. Hold to that light this year and beyond. I know I am ready, and this is something to practice for sure.
Recently, I learned the power of following intuition even more than anytime in the past when working on figuring out what on earth to do with myself. As of January 24th, it will be one year since I stepped out of the classroom as a teacher, and as this one year mark approaches, I take a retrospective look, naturally estimating the journey as humans do.
I think of Mama, Lena Younger, from A Raisin in the Sun, when she tells Beneatha to be more loving to Walter Lee when he is absolutely at his lowest. She says, “When you judge a person, measure them right. Make sure you measure the hills and valleys in their life.” Yes, I must measure myself right.
When talking with my siblings about where we’ve found ourselves in midlife, we all agree that you can’t draw from an empty well, no matter how much more you try to dig, and you only damage yourself in the process in ways unimaginable.
Situations arise when you aren’t listening because of distraction, fear, and the plain busy-ness of the world around you. Life demands we show up in some way, even when we feel our lowest, even when that well is dry. This territory is too familiar for teachers.
When I found myself down there in darkness, family and close friends shouted from above while looking down and checking in, letting me know I was still alive and capable of finding a way out. I understood I was trapped in there when I realized nothing was coming my way anymore, the energy, the vitality, all dried up.
For my well being, I had to find a way, on my own, to climb out, to begin again. I wrote a similar short story about this years ago, but instead of a well, it was a mountain, and instead of an adult, it was a child. Really, they are both about journeys. It remains a story I’m proud of.
That’s the irony of working so hard with blinders on; you end up too deep for people to throw a rope. And what would you learn if they did? Support and love have to be enough. Whether you have a rope or not, painful it is to work at getting out, and getting out you must. But what of the time between as you ponder in the darkness?
I imagined that once I did get out, a new place to dig would call to me, waiting for my work, aiming to chip away once again to parts unknown, and it was what I understood and knew – being a workhorse.
Perhaps it was all I was meant for, digging with blinders on, doing what I was compelled to do – to love my students, to work hard for my team, to not make waves, to keep the beat, to produce, produce, produce and filter through. Thoughtless.
The love remained, always, but the value of my work was lost in a sea of neglect. Even beautiful gardens die when they go unwatered. Those who knew really did know, but also navigated their own loss. All we could do was hold onto each other.
To be honest, though, instead of creating a vision of any new source of energy, I fought myself over how I ended up at the bottom of that dark place, taking so many hits while I circled and wondered what to do next. I was the person who helped others see their light, see their worth, see that work isn’t all there is, and dreams are attainable. I believed it, and I still do, but I worked so hard to not end up there at the bottom, and I did anyway.
I’m a rigid planner, a perfectionist in some ways, nearly immovable when I have something drawn out and understood, elements that made me a successful teacher. I taught writing for a living, and speaking, and literature. I graded essays by the dozens each week. Some teachers never grade a single essay their whole career. I do not judge; I state facts. The most grading any teacher will ever do is when he/she/they properly teach writing. I became a machine, and it was the world I was used to.
They were valuable skills and habits of discipline, keeping me out of trouble and in line, but the narrative was long over. All the work I accomplished was no longer life. In the darkness, I had to realize unhappiness was self derived, and if that was true, the opposite could be the same.
Oddly, however, no regrets showed up, thankfully, because I knew it was certainly time to leave teaching itself, but the sorrow came when the woman who gave help, guidance, and answers her whole career had none for herself. When those lights went out from the classroom I made out of pure love, I remained in darkness for a long time. I literally had nowhere to go but to stand where I was and figure it out.
Maybe a new job? Found one, did not work out despite the great people, and left within two weeks. Apply, apply, apply. Look, look, look. Feel ill, exhausted over doing nothing, rejections invisible, but felt.
And that’s all the space I’ll give to it to simply paint the picture of a part of the journey for now.
Needless to say, work didn’t work out in the expected sense, and it hurt because every time I tried to find a way out, I slipped, over and over. Traditional solutions didn’t match my predicament. And boy did my fiery temper have a show, but instead of lashing out at the world in anger, I turned the fury within.
I hug on by threads, close to my loved ones and friends who really understood, including some former students who are now living their adult lives who reached out in some supernatural, instinctive way. I clung to my volunteering, keeping myself engaged, aiming for motivating moments, working hard for something bigger than myself, treasuring the energy it continues to bring me today.
Volunteering softened the inevitable sharp corners I encountered. I met new people, and they brought moments of fresh air and continue to. With fresh air, came more strength. Though the source of energy was new to me, connecting to people wasn’t, and I value community now more than I ever have. As my husband likes to say, I make friends wherever I go. I always will. I love people.
It does not take a crowd, only meaningful and purposeful connection to say, yes, I can do this! It awakened an intrinsic value and understanding that just being myself was all I needed, not to be defined by work at all. In other words it was okay to stop digging. Showing up is enough now.
The trees offered their branches. The stones provided foundations to step upon and rise higher. The wind offered fresh air. And the sun. And the sky. And my family. And my few old friends. And my new friends. And my new vision crafted over many sleepless nights and mental torment only I could so beautifully design.
Layer by layer, I climbed, and found the courage to keep going when my core people and animals offered such love no one else could. Tedious and at times unforgiving, I never lost sight of the notion of how my inevitable emergence was a privilege my soul fought for in all my journeys, one not “given” to everyone, but bestowed by fate too profound to understand as humans. I owed it to my spirit to get the hell out of the darkness once I learned what was there to teach me. Elements had once served me, but those pieces had transformed to burdens and darkness.
The biggest lesson was learning I was worthy of leaving that place; I am worthy of light. We all are.
After deep work and healing, I felt the fresh air. I stepped out and wandered, looking all around in awe and delight as if in a new country, guided there by nothing but love, hope, and belief the light was there. It was; it is.
A fox paid a visit like an old friend. She is still here somewhere. My Audubon raptors and fellow volunteers shared heart space with me when I felt my lowest. Dalen Spratt and his Graveyard Shift family literally became a resource of light, prayers, and humor only we really understand. What a sense of belonging.
So the teacher remains, however, as does the student. Forever a learner, I headed into my peace, into nature, to soften the self-propelled blows after I emerged, and simply sat in her company, listening to what she shared with me, guiding me to trust myself once more and allow help to come through.
I listened, I learned, I devoted time to Forest Therapy coursework, I channeled through writing and found confidence in it; I connected with great people. In other words, I created a deep vision to get out of that well, a place no longer serving me, so it no longer served others.
The birds became my soundtrack to a journey homeward, and my perspective completely changed, a welcomed shift, looking upon our land that provided the answer, which, of course, had been there all along. I needed the darkness to see it in this way; it wouldn’t work otherwise. Yes, it may sound cliché that light is seen in darkness, I know it, but that does not make it less true. Those who know, know. There’s another one!
Change demands courage and support. Admittedly, fewer people showed up than I would have bet on in that prior part of my life, but I know the power in that lesson, too, and have nothing but love. After all, many of them are stuck in their own wells, not knowing they are or how to get out. I’m grateful for those who checked in, stayed with me all along, and never gave up on me as I struggled. Necessary changes include thinning out what no longer works, otherwise, you carry too much with you and can’t move forward to begin again.
I am finding now that studying and trusting my gifts is providing a fresh spring, no digging required, while I surrender to the natural flow. I fully dive into trusting the guidance I receive each day, eager to share this with others with full faith in myself, knowing my Forest Therapy and Channel Writing business will thrive because I worked for it and continue to do so daily.
And the new people who did show up seemingly dropped from the sky, all through volunteerism, and helped form such a community in my heart. Healing certainly continues, enough so that I can truly show up for others and feel strength while doing so, and thank those who remained loyal all along and stayed with me, rooting me on as I did for so long for others, honoring my journey and promising that if I simply trusted myself, I would rise above.
And I did. So, thank you, family, my volunteer family, my friend family, my animal family, and my forest family.
Blessed in love and light – and so it is.
Shennen
Thank you, Miss Lia, for loving me as I love you…
