What if I gave myself time?
What if I said that I deserved it? That the me time I give myself now makes the
us and the you and the we time better, stronger, dare I say it, happier?
When I first started teaching, my department head told me
that I shouldn’t be involved in theater. I shouldn’t be doing other things that took my
attention away from my job. I should be
at school working, grading, prepping every day until 5 or later. Anything else could come when I was a veteran
teacher. I looked at her like she was
crazy. Acting in plays made me tired…yes. But acting in plays made me ME. It energized me. It allowed me to come into class the next
day, excited to teach and eager to act.
All of my senses were activated by the fullness of my life. My brain and heart worked in tandem. I was at my best.
I don’t act anymore (well not on stage. We all play our roles all the time don’t
we?). I have small children, and any
extra time belongs to them. So where is
the me in my day these days?
It is in the teaching, of course. I could never be less than myself with the
teenagers who fill my classroom. They
would see right through it and rebel. So
I am silly, and tangential, and forceful with my expectations, and loud. I am always loud.
It is in the mothering of course. I am laughter, and concern and joyful at
their growth. I am silliness and tickles
and hugs.
But sometimes I am tired.
Sometimes with all of the being me for other people, I forget to be me
for myself. Instead of the run that I
know will fill me up with energy, and confidence, and spirit, sometimes I just
collapse (oftener than not) on the sofa in front of the television and
stare. I am paralysis, frustration, and
stress. I have given too much away and
left myself with…emptiness.
So, what if I gave myself time? What if I said that two days a week, or three
(gasp), I would give myself an hour and a half.
I would not grade. I would not
plan. I would not clean or launder. I would read.
I would run. I would write. I would spend some time remembering who I am
apart from my job, and my mothering.
Wouldn’t everything be stronger for it?
