Disclaimer: This post is about to be super cheesy.
As I type I'm fighting back tears and all the mushy feelings that I'm just bursting at the seams with because today...good grief. Today.
I blog about all of these ideas and feelings and thoughts and wishes and aspirations that I have because I sincerely believe in the power of putting your good intentions out into the universe, particularly in writing. I believe in the power of thoughts and words. I believe it's possible to speak things into existence.
I'll give you some examples...
around 2007ish I wrote some things in a journal that I wanted to achieve in my life. The heading of the list is something like Plans to Take Over The World...something extremely 20-something to write about (I know, I know). That's the thing about your twenties, or at least it was the thing about my twenties. I felt invincible. To some extent I was. When I think back on some of the absurdly dangerous and ridiculous situations I allowed myself or chose to be in during that decade...whew! It's a wonder I'm not...well, that's a different post for a different day.
My point is, I felt 30 when it hit. Damn. Felt like responsibility. Felt like anything but invincible. And now at 32, I question myself and my decisions waaaaay more than what I'd like to. My best friend and my mother, after listening to me weigh the pros and cons of *insert whatever the decision to be made is* ad nauseum have urged me to find the old Tammy. I suppose they're referring to the ability I used to have to just make a decision and stick with it. No.Matter.What. And dare anyone to second guess me. And invite them to watch me win. It's not that that Tammy's gone. It's just that dang the stakes sure are high now. A husband and two kids. And a fish. And a home. And a foreign country (which is famous for being gorgeous but not so user-friendly). And Rome on top of that. And The English Schoolhouse.
Anyway, back to the list. Number one was to be a millionaire by 30. Okay, you can't win 'em all so moving right along. Number two was to own a language school. Number 3 was babies, babies, babies. (I will stop myself at two babies at this point, but will check that off nonetheless). There were only four.
Today was our first day at the schoolhouse with a new initiative I cooked up a couple of weeks ago and just ran with...what if, I thought, moms or dads could get a free, wonderful English lesson while their kids learn? What if the environment was all cozy, and they snacked on cake and drank tea as they learned? (The kids have a snack, after all...why shouldn't the parents?) What if the environment was so great that EVERYONE looked forward to coming again? So this morning I baked a cake and went to work.
As I ran to the copier and left my group of kids for not even 32 seconds and watched the group of moms chuckling and conversing with a separate teacher, some struggling and some breezing right through it all, I got it. That feeling. That gut feeling. I recognized it from when I met my husband. From when I met my best friend for the first time. From when I decided to teach. It felt like home. It felt like it'd always been that way. It's the way I think it should always be.
I'm running with it.
Because even if I've been more pensive and less quick to act than my old self,
I always jump when my gut tells me to
...and this time, it screamed.
As I type I'm fighting back tears and all the mushy feelings that I'm just bursting at the seams with because today...good grief. Today.
I blog about all of these ideas and feelings and thoughts and wishes and aspirations that I have because I sincerely believe in the power of putting your good intentions out into the universe, particularly in writing. I believe in the power of thoughts and words. I believe it's possible to speak things into existence.
I'll give you some examples...
around 2007ish I wrote some things in a journal that I wanted to achieve in my life. The heading of the list is something like Plans to Take Over The World...something extremely 20-something to write about (I know, I know). That's the thing about your twenties, or at least it was the thing about my twenties. I felt invincible. To some extent I was. When I think back on some of the absurdly dangerous and ridiculous situations I allowed myself or chose to be in during that decade...whew! It's a wonder I'm not...well, that's a different post for a different day.
My point is, I felt 30 when it hit. Damn. Felt like responsibility. Felt like anything but invincible. And now at 32, I question myself and my decisions waaaaay more than what I'd like to. My best friend and my mother, after listening to me weigh the pros and cons of *insert whatever the decision to be made is* ad nauseum have urged me to find the old Tammy. I suppose they're referring to the ability I used to have to just make a decision and stick with it. No.Matter.What. And dare anyone to second guess me. And invite them to watch me win. It's not that that Tammy's gone. It's just that dang the stakes sure are high now. A husband and two kids. And a fish. And a home. And a foreign country (which is famous for being gorgeous but not so user-friendly). And Rome on top of that. And The English Schoolhouse.
Anyway, back to the list. Number one was to be a millionaire by 30. Okay, you can't win 'em all so moving right along. Number two was to own a language school. Number 3 was babies, babies, babies. (I will stop myself at two babies at this point, but will check that off nonetheless). There were only four.
Today was our first day at the schoolhouse with a new initiative I cooked up a couple of weeks ago and just ran with...what if, I thought, moms or dads could get a free, wonderful English lesson while their kids learn? What if the environment was all cozy, and they snacked on cake and drank tea as they learned? (The kids have a snack, after all...why shouldn't the parents?) What if the environment was so great that EVERYONE looked forward to coming again? So this morning I baked a cake and went to work.
 |
| this is what I came back home with |
As I ran to the copier and left my group of kids for not even 32 seconds and watched the group of moms chuckling and conversing with a separate teacher, some struggling and some breezing right through it all, I got it. That feeling. That gut feeling. I recognized it from when I met my husband. From when I met my best friend for the first time. From when I decided to teach. It felt like home. It felt like it'd always been that way. It's the way I think it should always be.
I'm running with it.
Because even if I've been more pensive and less quick to act than my old self,
I always jump when my gut tells me to
...and this time, it screamed.
Tamara... I enjoyed it so much, it's such a great idea to have a chatting space for the mums/dads. And btw the cake was delicious!
ReplyDeleteIlaria! So happy I'll be able to see and hear you every week at the schoolhouse! xo
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