Do Something Extraordinary

I read some inspirational list of things you’re supposed to do in your life a while back (likely some New Years Resolution drivel). The one thing that really stuck with me was a simple expression of a desire I’ve had for some time now.

I want to do something extraordinary.

I want to get to the end of my life, look back, and know that I’ve made a difference somehow. I’m not interested in skating by through this lifetime, with just doing the bare minimum and “getting through” each day. I want to work towards something, to earn something, to achieve something huge. Not big. HUGE.

...but how? How do you get from ordinary to extraordinary?  And how do I pick? To be honest, I’m not very inventive. I’m not very good at “thinking outside the box.” As a friend of mine commented a while ago, that’s because the box has gotten so big. And I think he has a point. In this technological age, where everything is created and developed at an exponential rate, where is there room for me to edge in and do something memorable, on a grand scale?

I can’t even begin to imagine what my “extraordinary accomplishment” might actually BE, either. It’s like I’m “dreaming BIG!” but without having a tangible dream (which, let me tell you, is a little disconcerting!). I feel like there are two possible ways for this goal to play out:

1.       I plan and dream and work hard towards a known goal (for instance, I could write a bestselling series, a la J.K.Rowling or Jeff Kinney). So the idea here is that I define what I want to do (and therein lies the problem with this one), then get all Angela-like (driven and hardworking) and tackle it step-by-step. But again... what’s the goal? How do I choose? What are my options?

or...

2.       I’m in the right time at the right place and act with the right response (such as saving someone’s life). There’s little I can do to prepare for this one (thus the problem). But maybe I can put myself into situations where something extraordinary might happen? Start volunteering at the hospital, or make lots of friends so that one day one of them asks me for a kidney? Yeah, okay, even *I* think that sounds a little silly...

Most people who have even cursory knowledge of me know that I’m super busy. I pack my schedule full of all sorts of things – work, volunteering, socializing, etc. It’s a “slow week” when I only have ONE plan each night after work. And I’ve been criticized for this; people worry that I’m not leaving enough time for myself, for finding a partner, for ... whatever they think should be important to me. But the truth is that I equate hard work with success. So the harder I work, and the more I accomplish in a day, the closer I get to achieving increasingly higher goals.

I’ve always been this way. The difference over the past few months is that I don’t know anymore what the next goal is. So I just keep working hard, but it’s not focused work. It’s a little scattered. And that’s hard for me to reconcile in my head.

*sigh*. I’m kind of at a loss here. Most of you who read this blog  know me fairly well... any suggestions? (...given my lack of consistency in posting to it these days, is anyone even reading it anymore?)

January's Toque Tree

As previously mentioned (here), I purchased my very first “very own” Christmas tree this year. It’s a little dwarf spruce (yes, it’s real... I’m one of those “fake tree = fake Christmas” people). And I loved it so much that I just couldn’t part with it come January.

So I’ve decided to make it my Year-Round Holiday tree. And each month (for as long as it survives... which, given my complete and utter lack of a green thumb, could be a very short period of time) I plan to decorate it with holiday-appropriate crafts.

So here’s January’s Toque Tree (so Canadian of me, I know). These were the simplest little things to make, and I just love how cute they are!

Overheard at Work

Woman 1 to Woman 2: "Hey! Let me see your stick. Is it bigger than mine?"



...Maybe they'd been taking lessons from the men in the office...???

hahaha!! Actually, there IS a perfectly normal explanation for this one... but it's funnier without it, don't you think?

12-month Hiatus

About six weeks ago, a major change occurred in my life. Everything has been affected: my daily routine, my future career potential, even some of my relationships. This change came as a result of A LOT of personal consideration, input from friends and family, and (most important of all) the fact that I finally allowed myself to let go of something I’ve been holding on to for years now. In short, I’m about six weeks into a 12-month hiatus from teaching.

When I say it took a long time to come to the conclusion that this was what I needed and THEN to finally take the jump and do it, I’m not kidding. For a year now, I’ve been feeling unhappy and unsatisfied with my teaching career. And really, it’s been even longer than that. But as soon as I got to England, and starting teaching again after the month-break I’d had prior, I felt such anxiety whenever I thought about stepping into a classroom that I was forced to take a look at my chosen vocation. And I realized that I’d been feeling that way for much, much longer – I just hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge how I felt. I’d been on the path to teaching for so long, and spent so many hours (and dollars!) working towards that goal. How could I give it up? Wasn’t I, as everyone I knew constantly reminded me, born to be a teacher?

In order to put into print the conversation I’ve had on very many occasions recently... I present to you...

“The Top 3 Most Likely Questions That Have Popped Into Your Head As You’ve Been Reading This Blog Post”

1.       But Angela, wouldn’t it be better if you had your own class?
Maybe. It’s definitely possible. But if subbing is the only part I don’t like, if it’s just the “newness” of each and every day, if it was the teaching I loved and if I could just do that part without all the uncertainty of being a TOC... then at some point during the day, when the “newness” has worn off and I know the kids and we’re in a groove and it’s all going well and I even planned part or all of the day... at some point, I should sit back and think, “I can’t believe I get paid for this. I love being a teacher.”

But I don’t.

I cannot say when the last time was that I felt that. I’m not sure I ever did. And that makes me nervous. What if I’m actually putting in all this sucky time of dealing with being a TOC, and then eventually, after years and years of hating this and feeling this unhappy, when I finally get my “own class” (the thing that’s supposed to solve all of the negative feelings I have right now)...I’m still this unhappy. What then?

2.       Well Angela, was it just teaching in London that you didn’t enjoy? You know the kids there are really bad, right? First of all, the kids I taught in London weren’t any different from the kids I teach in Canada. Kids are kids. Some kids have more behaviour difficulties than others, and that requires a little more attention and work on my part, but they’re NOT “bad”. And the work I did in London was very similar to that of Victoria, even sometimes easier because I never had to plan anything myself. So no, teaching in London did not make me hate teaching.

I did, however, spend A LOT of my “living in London” time contemplating why it was that I seemed so much more unhappy with it while I was there. And I think it all comes down to balance. When I was subbing in Victoria, before I left for England, I was also maintaining a part-time job. A job I loved. A job that made me feel like I was helpful and appreciated. A job I looked forward to going to, because I knew my time there would be productive, helpful and fun. So even though I was teaching a lot, I always got to fill my “other-than-teaching time” with this other job. I didn’t have time to be unhappy with my work, because the “less than satisfying” part was balanced with the “very satisfying” part. Once I got to London, ALL I did was teach. So I started spending EVERY day unhappy and I started losing sleep over how anxious I felt about that.

So I came back. And I went back to teaching. A lot. And I was STILL not feeling happy. In fact, I was feeling quite UNHAPPY. So again, I can say, with total certainty, it was NOT just “teaching in London” that made me unhappy. It was “teaching”.

3.       Oh Angela, what if you tried a specialty?

I’ve thought a lot about that too. And I’m actually currently still enrolled in a course that would lend itself to becoming a Reading Specialist, who could help kids who struggle with reading and writing. And I’ve even looked into quite a few Masters Of Education programs, thinking that maybe I could continue studying Learning Assistance or Gifted Education (both of which interest me very much). But at this point, I think it’s the learning part that interests me. I’m enjoying the challenge of learning again, more than picturing myself actually working in this capacity in the future. So... all I can say on that front is, “we’ll see.”

And so, the hiatus. A friend of mine connected me with a job that offered a 12-month fulltime contract in an office environment similar to that part-time job I mentioned, after which I can go straight back into teaching (if I want to) or continue with the current job (if I want to and if there’s an extension available) or try secret-as-yet-unknown-option-three (something else entirely).

And heck, standing in front of a classroom with 24 expectant faces staring at me is certainly not the only way to use the training I have. I believe in Educating and in Education. So maybe my path is to work in Admin, but still related to teaching. Maybe I’ll end up working for the Ministry of Education. Maybe I’ll find my way back in to a School Admin position. Who knows?

The bottom line is, I just refuse to accept that I have to spend the rest of my life doing something that makes me feel unhappy and unsatisfied. Maybe that’s naive. But heck, I’m still pretty young. If I’m going to be unrealistic and idealistic about the world, and throw away my career to find another one, at least I don’t have any dependents relying on me for an income. So I figure, THIS is the time to be brave and start again.

Or at least to take 12 months to think about it (and make some steady income in the meantime).

Christmas

I don’t care how old you are; Christmas should make you feel excited. It should be a time of joy, of anticipation, of love. Note that I didn’t say everyone feels this way; but they should. It should be possible for all of us to enjoy a few days off and spend some time with people who make us feel valued (whether that’s your biological family or the one you built up around yourself). Idealistic? Sure. But what better time of year than Christmas to be a little unrealistically optimistic?

For me, Christmas this year was a conglomeration of a whole lot of different.

Disneyland
My first exposure to the 2011 holiday season was in Disneyland. As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I traveled down to California with my Dad, stepmom and siblings in mid-November for a few days. I don’t care how old you are (sound familiar?); Disneyland should make you feel like a little kid. There’s something about the Magic Kingdom, about the first Mickey Mouse sighting of the trip, about waiting in lines and getting soaking wet on SplashMountain. Any one of those is enough to send me into fits of giggles and to break my face muscles with smiles. And all of them combined? On one of the slowest visitor days of the year? I was downright bursting with glee (as I have been every other time I’ve ever visited the park, even the time I dragged Monica along with me to Disneyland Paris!)

And this year, we combined all that excitement with Christmas! Disneyland had just completed its holiday transformation, which after 8ish visits, we’ve actually not experienced before (I say 8ish because the actual visit count for each of us is different... and because I can’t remember what my own is... suffice it to say, going to a Disney Park is kind of the Chorney-vacation-thing-to-do!!). The Haunted Mansion was made to look like a scene out of “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, fake snow was blasted out of cannons at the conclusion of the firework display, and every exterior was bedecked with red-and-green shiny swag.

In short, Disneyland + Christmas = Awesome.

Throw in a little Chorney Kid Adventure (which just wouldn’t be one without being silly and drawing a crowd), and, well, does it get any better than that?

Advent

On the very very opposite end of nearly every spectrum known to man, is the season of Advent (when comparing it to Disneyland, that is). I’ve remarked to a couple of people that this year, I finally got it. Because the church calendar just hasn’t ever been a significant presence in my faith experiences, Advent (or Epiphany or Lent or... any other one, for that matter) hasn’t really meant anything to me. Over the past few years, as I’ve become more involved in the Lutheran tradition, I started noticing that we changed the colour of the trimmings. But still, that was about it.

Until this year.

I made a habit of attending the Thursday night candlelit services held at my church throughout the four weeks leading up to Christmas. Actually, I only really meant to check out the first one, but something inside my spirit really connected with God at that first one, and I couldn’t have stayed away from the others if I’d tried. They were peaceful. Serene. Spiritual. At the end of one of them, I inexplicably began to cry. Such a release of pent-up emotion could only be attributed to the peace I felt at being drawn into stillness mid-week, mid-season, mid-job-hunt, mid-stress. Everything else in my life melted away and I could just be. I must admit, it’s hard to explain just how I felt that night, and each night after I left those services. The best I can do is to say that I felt ... something.

The purpose of the Advent season is to anticipate the birth of Jesus. And this year, I really felt anticipatory. I felt the slow build-up of the season, the lifting of my spirit, the happiness of the general good mood around me.

The Season Itself

And then, after all the looking-forward-to, Christmas was upon us. And I had what was probably the best Christmas season I’ve had in a long time. From the “12 Days of Michael-and-Ang-mas” right through to the wonderful laziness of hanging out with my family and not doing anything on Christmas Day, it was all great. Just enough relaxation mixed with just enough social fun.

My Christmas Tree

Oh yes, and I purchased my very first “very own” Christmas tree this year. I was so proud I made everyone I know come look at it. It’s true. If you were within 50 feet of my house, and I knew you were there, you came in to see it.

Isn’t it cute? It’s just so... Angela. :)