Resolutions? I don't do resolutions. There's much more important stuff at stake
Resolutions have never worked for me. *But*, I love looking back and peering forward, making out where this ship has been and where it's heading. That's a big *But*. It can lead to places where dragons dwell.
Things have changed over the last two or three years. It's not as if things happened to me, actually, I made them happen. If you would like to read quite a feeble account of what was a grinding, exhausting, exhilerating, triumphant, peaceful, satisfying experience, read on. It only has a little to do with knitting, but, as I said above, knitting played a part in the general feeling of stuff.
It started with an urge, one New Year, just like today, to look back and peer forward into the place where dragons may dwell. I was unhappy in myself, and in my logical way, I took a little look at what seemed to be bothering me most, my work. I had no knitting to help me through the meditative process, as this habit had disappeared when I first started teaching. A teaching career had been an all-consuming life choice for me, and I entered the profession with vision and energy. These had now also disappeared, so I took a look at what had happened. Thus the rollercoaster ride began.
I came to several conclusions, which were to change the course of this ship dramatically. I found that my vision for my work was still there, buried, but finding no echo within the system in which I was working. Work without vision is death for me. It's about integrity. I find that I become ill if I am not true to myself, and that I only find out who *myself* is, when I follow my instincts. I was highly successful as a teacher, but even that did not hit it. I concluded also that a 60 hour week, no space in my head/heart/soul/mind/brain for anything but hitting targets and shoving students (these are *people*, not props in a school's assault on the league tables) through exam-shaped hoops, contributed to my visibly deteriorating health. I concluded that no vision and no health are too high a price to pay for any kind of substantial salary. So... I decided to do something about it.
I retrained, whilst working full time, as a remedial massage therapist. I revived my original incarnation as a Lotte Berk method exercise teacher. I trained in craniosacral therapy. I am now training in Pilates exercise.
Somewhere along the way, I went part-time at school for a year, then left entirely. The clinic is thriving, although I earn about half to two-thirds of what I used to. That's OK.
It all sounds very logical and sensible, but let me tell you, it was *terrifying* to swap a large salary and a recognized professional career to be self-employed. I thought I didn't need the extra money and the status... nevertheless, it was the hardest thing I have ever done to give it up. And I can't begin to talk about the anger and disappointment that goes with realising that something one has put heart and soul into, has changed beyond recognition, is not worth pursuing any more. And the guilt that one is leaving behind others in the same predicament, not to speak of the students. So I won't.
Was it worth it? The outcome of all this is:
My health has recovered. I feel ten years younger, I have lost excess weight, sleep all through the night, don't grit my teeth any more. I don't have that perpetual grinding exhaustion, deep in the pit of the stomach, etc, etc, etc.
I now knit. I didn't knit at all when I was teaching. No space in my head, and no time in the week.
I now read. Not just professional texts, but novels too. And Knitblogs!!!!! I hadn't read a novel in several years when I was teaching.
I spend time with friends and my family. I don't spend all day at work and all evening marking and planning, and all 'holiday' desperately trying to get ahead, or figure out what the latest government policy change means for us in the classroom. I now work about 30 - 40 hours a week at most.
I write. Not just the knitblog, but educational stuff in my own time, published, paid for and appreciated, stuff that is *really* useful for those still at the interactive whiteboard.
I invest in professional development. I set aside the time to train in whatever I decide will be useful for me as a bodyworker, and for my clients who need a well-trained practitioner.
I find real joy in what I do. I am working with vision again. The integrity issue. What I am doing now is closer to who I really am. I get on quite well with dragons, at the end of the day. People tell me I astound them at the way I can reinvent myself, but actually, what I am doing is finding myself.