So, I didn't blog yesterday. But it's not because I'd forgotten my commitment to this blog. Yesterday was a really rough day, work crawled along at a snails pace. By the time it was over I was afraid that if I did blog I would just say some very bitter and mean things about the company I work for, and that's not something I want to do. If you have been reading this blog since I started it, I think you know that I don't mean for this to be a bitter and angry place where I just throw up feelings as they come out. I'm writing this because it's good for me. It calms me down. Also, the simpler reason is because I love writing. I have come to the realization over the past few weeks that that is really what I wish to do with my life. I have ideas for stories swirling around in my head all the time, but...I don't know. I just lack the discipline to write them down. What I need is someone who will hold me accountable. Not my mom, or anyone in my family for that matter. My mom would love it if I became a writer, and she has all the faith in me in the world. For some reason though, whenever your mom tells you to do something, no matter how old you get, it feels like nagging. Why is that? You'd think we'd get mature enough at some point in our lives to be able to escape that feeling.
Teaching is another thing I've been considering. I have no doubt that I'd like it, or even that I'd be good at it. Children seem so much easier to communicate with than adults. I think for me it's because of their raw honesty and curiosity. Yesterday, I had a five-year-old boy named Oliver (awesome name, right?? His brother's name was Elliot, they were adorable.) Anyway, here's Oliver and my conversation:
O: *Blows Donald Duck quack whistle* *R jumps* Ha ha! I scared you!
R: You did! Hey, do you wanna Mickey sticker?
O: Oooh yeah! What's your name? I'm Oliver. *takes sticker*
R: I'm Ryan. That's a pretty neat name you have there, Oliver. Like Oliver Twist.
O: I've heard of that, but my mom says I'm not big enough to read it yet.
R: You should tell her to read you the junior version. You could handle that.
O: Maybe. Hey, why do you have to sit in that chair?
R: Because my brain can't tell my legs how to walk, so I get around using this. I actually even have a quack whistle like you have. I blow it so people will know I'm coming and get out of my way.
O: *giggles* Does it work?
R: Sometimes.
O: So, if your brain can't tell your legs how to walk, does it hurt?
R: Not at all.
O:That's good. Hey, I probably gotta go now.
R: Okay! Don't forget to tell your mom about our friend Mr. Twist.
O: I won't. Thanks for the sticker!
R: You're welcome!
*He runs off, then turns, looks at me, and runs back*
O: I almost forgot to tell you something.
R: What's that?
O: I'm glad it doesn't hurt. Bye!
R: Bye, Oliver!
At that point I was choking back tears. I wanted to hug him, but we aren't allowed unless the guest moves first.
To end...
"You have to give up the life that you had planned in order to find the life that is waiting for you. -Joseph Campbell
I wonder what's waiting for me?
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