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The race is on...
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27 March 2002
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If you were to think of life as a competition, how would you rate your performance?
What criteria measure your success?
My life *is* a competition; every single day that I am alive, I am striving toward a goal, an endline, a finish. Although I am not an outwardly competitive person, I know myself well enough to know that “the finish” is important to me.
I teach twenty eight-year-olds every day. It’s a challenge to get them excited about the day’s activities and lessons. This year, especially, I have to do cartwheels and handstands to get a reaction out of these kids. If I were animated and on a 17” screen, would I be more interesting to them? Things that I *know* should interest someone of that age (regarding school, of course) does not. They give me blank stares, and their lips fall to their desks, a slow drizzle of apathy trailing the corners of their mouths, pooling on the smooth surface of their desks. It’s true! Just ask my colleagues that also teach third grade. We switch students every now and again to do special projects (one does Science, one does Art, and I do Writing, most often.) They are constantly amazed at the nothingness that faces me every day.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore my students, and there are some in my class that do show a hint of understanding, a glimpse of interest, and more importantly, a hint of life! However, the majority create a challenge that, I admit, sometimes defeats me. I am usually up for the challenge, though. I love teaching. It’s like any other athlete or competitor; you have to enjoy what you do, or you’ll not succeed. And I do enjoy my job, otherwise I wouldn’t still be doing it. I enjoy this particular kind of challenge, and I am in it for the long run. Each day that one of the kids responds, it’s like giving me an extra shot of adrenaline, my endorphins kick in, and I am off racing.
Another challenge that I face nearly every day of my life is weight. I know, I know. Who doesn’t struggle with this? (Please don’t tell me who doesn’t, it’s a rhetorical question. I do realize that there are people out there that don’t have personal issues with their weight. ;-)) Every single day I think about each and every piece of food that goes into my body. There’s an internal conversation that I have with myself.
“Should you really be eating that, Maggie?” Self asks her as she fills another bowl of egg noodles.
“I want to, Self. It’s not a matter of *should*. I just like the taste of it,” replies Maggie, stubbornly turning away, hiding that bowl.
“The taste fades away, but the pounds stay on,” Self says with an overbearing attitude of always being right.
“I don’t care!” Maggie cries out as she arrogantly throws some more noodles on top of the pile.
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t. It’s good. It will satisfy my craving.”
“Maggie, will it *really* satisfy anything?”
“Yes, Self, it will!” she says, pausing as she looks at the bowl. She takes a deep breath, knowing that Self is right, but she places those words in the back of her mind.
Doesn’t everyone have these conversations with themselves? Some days are better than others are. Often times, though, it’s Self who wins. There are days that I sit back and let “my Self” win the little battle. The war still forges on, though, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. What’s that saying? “You may lose a few battles, but can still win the war.” Or something like that.
In yet another challenging aspect of my life, I face the ever-present loneliness. I moved from Wisconsin to California to take a teaching position when I graduated from college. I never ever wanted to live in California. In fact, out of the one hundred resumes that I eventually sent out in Wisconsin and throughout the rest of the USA, only two were sent to California. Guess what. Both places wanted me. (Now that I am here, I understand completely – major teacher shortage.)
I drove out here without any friends and without a place to live. I had plans to stay with a friend of the principal. If that isn’t a little daunting! I ended up staying in their little garage apartment, then moved in with another teacher for about a month. Within that time, I found a nice apartment – with a pool! I moved here the third week of August, but I wouldn’t receive my first paycheck until October 1st. In October, I moved to my very own apartment. It was great, but again, I was alone. It was great that I had that teacher to live with that first month. If I hadn’t, I’m sure that I would have been far more lonely than I was.
The town in which I live has 25,000+ people, but it has a very small-town atmosphere. Everyone knows everybody else’s business. There is no place to meet other people, and even if I did, chances are that person would somehow link back to my job. That’s just unacceptable, in my opinion. ;-) To make a long story short, I don’t have a lot of options of where I can meet people my age. The ones my age that live near me are are either married or involved… or both. The rest are too old or too young for my interest. I’ve tried churches and stuff, but let’s face it, I am just way too shy and introverted (unless I know people, then I can be very outgoing! *heheh*)
With all that said, I am just plain lonely at times. It’s a constant thing that I am trying to overcome, mainly because I want so badly to be a wife and mother. Yes, yes, yes. Old news. I know.
My family is another cause for struggle and challenge. I love them dearly, and they love me dearly, but I can not do anything right sometimes when it comes to how I live my life. Without going into boring detail, although I’m sure that it will come out eventually in my journal, I have disappointed them time and time again with some of the choices that I have made. I live my life as my own person, and sometimes they just have a problem with that. It stems from their faith and beliefs, and that is all that I am going to say on that. My decisions and choices effect my life, and my life only. My family will just have to accept that.
I feel like my life is much like a triathlon. There are different parts to the whole race. None of the parts is any more important than the other but all so very different. I may fail in one area, but I might pull ahead in the next. The “finish line” is still far ahead of me, and each day brings me closer to crossing it. And sometimes, it’s not how fast or how well you got there, it’s just that you didn’t give up trying… and kept going.
I think that, all in all, I have run the race rather well. I have suffered some injuries along the way, but each has made me a stronger person. Although my future isn’t entirely apparent, I have a clearer understanding of who I am and where I am going.
...collaboration for the "If..." Project - March 2002...
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