Starting Up

Leaving behind the roles of mother, robotics teacher, maybe even writer (if I don’t have free time) I’m making my way in three days to learn a new role: yoga teacher. I’m sure that before I can teach yoga I have much to learn, and I’m not talking about yoga poses. Kripalu yoga emphasizes a gentle approach to yourself, stilling your mind, loving yourself. If I could figure out who I was I might like me.

My career is careening through possibilities. All of which I like, by the way.

Each presents it’s own problems. For example, when I teach robotics, I wonder if I’ve been out of touch with technology for too long. The programming seems to be coming back to me, but last semester, the kids had to teach me how to run a powerpoint presentation. They were astounded. You’d think I’d brought in a record player to listen to music, they thought I was so out of touch. Plus, I’m really shy. Standing up in front of those kids every day gives me some butterflies. Only because I genuinely like kids, and I think robotics is a really interesting subject can I make myself do it. Usually my enthusiasm for helping them learn and sharing my passion overcomes my shyness. Usually.

Since I didn’t teach this semester, I wrote. I took myself away from the dishwasher, the washing machine, the dog hair on the floor and the lack of plans for dinner (all of which called to me loudly as I left the house) and after dropping the kids off at school, I went to a cafe to have tea and write. Three mornings a week. Nothing I have done before has given me the joy that this has. Nothing has made me feel so sane. All those stories, all those words in my head were crowding around. First, they had a party, but then it threatened to get out of hand, and I think it was time to call in the police, or at least, some anti-anxiety meds. Not writing makes me anxious. And, conversely, writing makes me feel peaceful. And accomplished, even though some days it’s all just word count I can point to. The downside? I think I suck. I didn’t want to learn that, and I actually considered not even trying for fear of finding that out for sure. But I’m trying to tell myself that learning any new skill will take practice, and just because what I write now is insipid, doesn’t mean I won’t ever write something I could be proud of. But make a living at it? That’s doubtful, and fortunately, it’s not really the point. The point is to keep the rabble-rousers in my head out of trouble.

There’s assorted side-jobs, too. I’m a rep for Send Out Cards. I’m supposed to be selling it to other people, and get people to sign up to sell under me. I like the system, but even so, I’m not a salesperson. I should have known that, I sold for Avon and for an educational book company in the past, and both times was not comfortable. Send Out Cards was just too good to be true, a new product, easy to use, a way to make passive income. Why passive income? So I’d have time to write. I occasionally, apologetically tell someone about the cards. And that’s okay. I accept that I’m going to be really bad at this job. But I’m not giving it up, it still looks really good on paper - it’s just my execution that’s, well, killing it.

I do make some money from writing for E-How. In a flash of inspiration, I started writing some how-to articles for them about a year and a half ago. I have not written anything for them for almost a year, and yet, $20.00 a month keeps rolling into my paypal account every month. I love that! I don’t really like writing non-fiction much, but these are how-to’s - I imagine that I am helping someone, and that does inspire me. Simple things that I know how to do - like, How To Fold A Fitted Sheet. Silly. But easy for me to write, and again, the word count and number of articles made me feel like I was accomplishing something. I’d like to get back to that and give it more effort, although I know it’s really small money for a pretty big effort. But again, it’s passive income. Very attractive, because passive income is freedom.

Last but not least, I’m going off Sunday to be trained as a yoga instructor. I’ve done yoga for years, and my first teacher told me I should get trained, “You’d be good at this,” she said. But I told her I was too shy to teach. Ignoring this fact I know so well about myself, I’m hoping that once again, I can overcome the shyness to be able to help others get the gifts that yoga has given me. And to get more of it for myself. The last year and a half have been filled with self-doubt, insecurity, anxiousness as I try to find my vocation, my calling. And, as I try to figure out a way to support myself and my family. My husband’s been out of work two years now. Savings are depleted. But I am not yet desperate for a job, or at least, not yet so desperate I’m willing to take something that would require hours away from my children, and something I would not enjoy. I’m hoping I’ll be able to piece together a living from teaching, cards, writing, yoga, and oh, I forgot to mention the t-shirt company I want to start. The advice I’ve been told, and what I have said to myself has been, “decide”. But I can’t. I can’t because I want to do them all. They are all my children, I want to nurture each one.

This Blog is to chronicle the ups and downs of not deciding. Perhaps in writing it, I can reflect more fully on my choices, and deciding will either get easier, or, I will, in a burst of glory, realize I can do it all. Imperfectly, perhaps, but no vocation will be left by the side of the road. Unless it throws up in the car, a sign that perhaps I should just let that one go. But so far, everyone is behaving nicely and we are proceeding slowly. Careening with caution.