The thought I keep returning to that
brings me comfort every time my mind starts reeling over everything
is this: Everything happens for a reason. I don't always know that
reason, and I'm not meant to. There will always be life events that
I will never understand why they happened, but I can't dwell on that.
But the fact remains that throughout the course of my life, I have
always been placed right where I need to be, and sometimes that only
becomes clear in retrospect.
I thought I wanted to attend a
conservatory for vocal performance after high school. Didn't get in
and was crushed as a result. Then I got the acceptance letter from
UNC and had the most amazing undergraduate and graduate experience
possible. I loved every minute of my time there and many of my
dearest friends are from that point in my life.
After grad school, while searching for
my first teaching job, I found out that one of my mentor teachers I
had worked with was leaving to be a stay-at-home mom. I thought I
was a shoe-in for this position – I already knew her, knew the
kids, knew the school. Perfect – I could stay in the RDU area that
I had grown to love and teach at a good high school. They went with
someone who had previous experience as an elementary music teacher.
Again, completely devastated and stuck working at Ann Taylor Loft
with summer and the end of the major hiring season fast approaching.
Amid the turmoil of “I have this
shiny new Master's degree and I'm super eager to use it – why will
no one hire me?!” two things happened. First, my mom found an
opportunity in the middle TN area. It was a middle school position,
not exactly what I wanted, but it was a start. It was something. I
could live at home for a little bit while I looked for a place of my
own. I had a phone interview and was about to fax them my paperwork
when the second thing happened – a phone call from another school
at which I had previously interviewed. A private, Catholic high
school in rural VA. It had been over a month since my interview and,
hearing nothing, I had given it up for a lost cause. But here they
were, offering me a position at their school located an hour outside
of DC. I didn't know the area but many of my UNC friends were in DC
and the lure of a new adventure in a new city appealed to me. So, I
went to work for NDA. I used to wonder what might have happened had
I taken the job in TN. Probably good things, but I know now that it
wasn't the path meant for me. It feels very “The Road Less
Traveled” – I chose the one less traveled by and that has made
all the difference. And trust me, if you knew the roads around NDA,
in tiny Middleburg, you would agree that they are indeed less
traveled.
NDA was a “unique” place for many
reasons and almost drove me crazy more than a few times. But, again,
this place gave me the chance to meet amazing friends and living on
campus made it easy to finally adopt a dog. Thus, I credit NDA for
Zeke coming into my life.
This first job gave me my sea-legs so
when I was ready to move on, I was looking at larger public schools
to really sink my teeth into a big choral program. Nope, no go.
But, RPCS, a private girls' school in Baltimore, gave me a chance and
it was here that I really hit my stride. It was also here that I met
Kevin and other wonderful people, both colleagues and students alike,
and I am forever grateful for their impact on my life.
Even though none of these places were
in my original scope of thought for where I originally wanted to be,
they were precisely the right place at the right time in my life.
And I know that with complete certainty.
So, when Kevin was talking to his
brother one late summer afternoon, recounting why his current job
situation was far from ideal, his brother said, “Send me your
resume. I'll see what I can do” I was outside with Zeke and heard
Kevin call out to me,
“Hey, what do you think about CA?”
“I love CA.”
“Great!”
And that was that. We talked about it,
more in terms of wishful thinking than anything else at first. Then
the resume submission became a phone interview. And then an
in-person interview. As things started to progress, it was exciting
but also terrifying. We weren't engaged at that point, but we knew
we wanted to be together. I had a job that I loved, but knew we
needed this break. What would happen if our wildest CA dreams came
true? I had a moment when I turned it all over to God: “He needs
this. We both need this. If this job is meant to be and if we are
meant to be together then I will go with him. I will leave this
place and this job I love. I will leave these students and
colleagues who are so amazing to work with. If this opportunity is
the right path I will give this up and go somewhere new.”
The night we finished casting the fall
musical, right after we had finalized everything, I get a text. “Got
the offer. It's good. We're going to CA.” My heart and stomach
both leapt and flipped and I felt flushed and dizzy. “Holy
shit...! This. Is. Amazing. AMAZING!!! Thank you GOD! But what
now? Did I just cast my last show here? When will he move? Will I
move, too?” Needless to say, it was a tumult of both joy and fear.
In the blink of an eye we made arrangements, packed his house, and
the week before he headed off to start work he proposed, solidifying
the fact that I was going to join him in CA. So, off he flew while I
stayed in MD, finishing the school year, planning our wedding, and
preparing for my own cross-country journey. I was elated and knew
that despite my fears, it was all going in the right direction.
This is the thought I keep returning to
time after time whenever I feel doubt about what I'm supposed to be
doing with my life. This reassurance that I have always been placed
just where I need to be and with whom I needed to be. Heck, that
started out in my first few weeks of life when my mom and dad adopted
me! I've always been blessed in that way. And I feel that. No, I
don't know what my next adventure will be in the employment category,
but that's ok. I'll get there.
In early April, I applied for a job that sounded ideal: The school sounded like a west-coast clone of RPCS - they even have the same colors. Only a 20min commute. I knew that if this worked out, I was meant to get back in the classroom. And if I didn't... it meant there was something else for me. After what I thought was a solid Skype interview I waited. And waited more. And finally, a month later, received the "Thanks but no thanks" email. This time, however, no major devastation. I had pretty much figured out I wasn't a candidate after a few weeks of no contact, and I was at peace with it. I knew that if I didn't get it, I wasn't meant to and that I could focus on finding that thing I was supposed to do.
That's how this whole idea of writing
came into being. I was beyond bored when I first moved here,
unemployed and socially crippled by not knowing a soul within 20
miles. So I read. And then I got some ideas of my own and I wrote
them down. Then I wrote more and elaborated, trying to build
something up that might possibly, tentatively, hopefully, maybe
become something someday. It's a scary prospect though – what if I
after devoting all this time and energy it goes nowhere? What if
it's a total dead-end? I think that's why I haven't mentioned the
notion of my writing books to really almost anyone other than Kevin.
If it doesn't come to fruition, if no one knows about my dream in the
first place, they can't ask, “Hey, how's that book coming?” while
I awkwardly mutter something about, “Eh... publishing... editing...
long process. You know. Hey, how about that sport-ball game, huh?”
It's a shield to not let anyone know about it because if they don't
know I'm trying, they won't know if I fail.
And no one will be there to encourage,
push, or motivate either. Aye, there's the rub. Telling people is a
way to keep myself honest and continue to push to try to make
something of it. By finally putting it out there that I hope to
write a book or two and seek publication in some way, shape, or form,
then everyone who knows about that project will play the tiniest part
in keeping me on track. People know about it now. It's official.
Here ye, here ye! I have this potentially really good idea for a
book (or 2) in the young reader's genre – like middle school
age-ish. I'd rather say that I tried and failed. That's better than
saying that I started trying and then gave up.
Earlier today I read two blog posts
from high school friends and they both struck me as exactly what I
needed to hear. Here's the essence of what each said:
- There are times when you know you're supposed to be doing more with your life but you're scared to take that first step. Then a situation arises that forces you to take action and take that step – maybe it's divine intervention in that way. “Wake up! Take charge and do what you know you could be doing!”
- Take responsibility for yourself. It's the biggest and most important thing you can do.
I think part of me knew in my heart
that I wasn't meant to teach as a long-term career, for whatever the
reasons may be. Now, I have no excuse to not pursue a long-dormant
dream. And, if I want to make this happen, I'm the only one who can
make it so. I'm the one who had to take the time to sit down,
create, edit, rewrite, and so on and I'm the one to blame if it just
sits on my computer, abandoned and unfinished. So, if either of you
happen to read this and recognize your blog message from above,
thanks.
These things and thoughts and feeling
and emotions have been tied up in my brain for weeks now. I had to
get them down. I had to write these two, massively long posts for my
own well-being, if not for anyone else's potential reading and
reflection. Now that this isn't swimming in my head anymore I feel a
little cleansed, refreshed. I've done a decent amount of writing so
far but I think I needed this catharsis before continuing on. If you
made it this far, you're a trooper. Props.
