What Did T. Read in 2022?

 




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Tamas - Spiritual Inertia

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When I first met my former therapist (Therapy Elsa), I eyeballed her with a great deal of distrust. I had finally been in therapy enough years to understand that the client, too, gets a say in whether or not the fit is right. "Are you one of those therapists who talk about sin a lot and how it's wrong to be gay?" I asked. Therapy Elsa smiled. "That's an interesting question. Why do you ask?" I assumed she was mentally writing down some kind of note like, "Prospective client probably gay." "Because you have diplomas hanging on your wall and one of them is from a seminary," I said. "Also, I know many Christians, and they care a LOT about whether people are gay." "Ah, I see," she said. "Well, to answer your concerns, the seminary I went to was quite open-minded." She went on to tell me how they used gender-neutral references for God, which basically made my head explode. Then I worried maybe she was too liberal ...
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Hope

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I think if I still lived in South Carolina, I would be described as tender-hearted. And it would not be a compliment. It would be like when you say, "Bless her heart," while watching someone from New Hampshire try to figure out grits. Tender-hearted is too easily given to feelings. I think my feelings are bigger than the rest of me put together. If I could get rid of some of my feelings, I think the first one I would get rid of wouldn't be anger or sadness or jealousy. It would be hope. I hate hope. Hope is the thing that kills you. I know that's an expression commonly used in soccer-football but since it's the Superbowl here in America, it feels appropriate. I had a date tonight. My friend Abbie gave me this beautiful necklace a few days ago that she said helps manifest love. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt hopeful... I mean, not that I was going to fall in love on a first date, but like -- hopeful that I could even still feel positive about a ...
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Adhikāra - The Right to Have

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   "Yoga Elsa told me it would be okay if I quit training, that no one would think less of me. "But I thought you said it's normal for it to be this hard and for everyone to get injured and for us all to feel like we're dying right now!" I wailed. "It is. But you have to think it's worth it. There has to be something worth it in this for you. If you are just miserable the whole way through, it's okay to stop." Yoga Elsa is pretty badass. I am not sure why this training seems to be so much harder for me than for the others in my class. I'm sure part of it is the failure to rise above my job situation. I think part of it is also that most of the others have someone supporting them -- a partner, or a spouse, or even a studio. I'm climbing Mount Everest on my own here and hoping my oxygen holds out." I wrote that weeks ago now when I was afraid I would quit. It hadn't even occurred to me to quit until Yoga Elsa said that I could, an...
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Namaste - Godhead, Part I

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C.S. Lewis once said something to the effect of, “I don’t write to express what I think; I write to find out what I think.”  That sentiment has always resonated with me. I, too, try to work things out in my head by writing them down, moving them around, saying them differently, and just praying that at some point, I have a lightbulb moment where I can be like, “Oh! THAT must be what's going on inside me!” Sometimes it works, and sometimes even weeks after pressing “Publish,” I’m still trying to work things out in my head.  I say all that to warn you that this is that type of post.  Several days ago, I posted this to whatever it is we’re calling the Instagram/Facebook conglomerate these days: I didn’t come up with the original, but it really resonated with me, so I shared it to my stories. A woman I’ve met only a handful of times in my life (from church, of course) & haven’t spoken to in years, instigated the following exchange, via direct message: I am not good at co...
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īkṣaṇa - Look

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I've been living in denial about my immediate future. Rather than using the summer to prep for teaching 7th grade, I've been hoping that something else will open up last minute in, say, Greece, and I will be able to leave 7th grade 4,000 miles behind me and relocate to a place that has no 7th grade. Or that at least I'd be on Corfu teaching 7th grade. The curriculum where I'm supposed to teach is...confounding. I told Stella I don't know what I'm teaching. Since she works in Clayton and is the best teacher I know, I trusted her to tell me where to start and then kick my ass into gear. Stella opened her computer, spent 7 minutes examining the curriculum published for my district, then slammed the computer shut and said, "Yeah, good luck with that; that's a mess. Sorry, T." So I refuse to look. I refuse to check my school email. I refuse to set up my classroom. I refuse to remove "high school English" from my signature or update my LinkedIn...
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Satyā - Truthfulness

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  For the last 15 years, I've been trying to teach high school English. For the last 15 years, I've failed and remained in 8th grade. I've been passed over for 7 positions in my own district alone. I've been teaching a scripted curriculum that requires zero thought or skill from the teacher. I'm bored to tears, and I've been repeatedly snubbed by the head of my department, in a way that is both humiliating and deeply troubling. This year, I decided,  no more . I changed my passwords to "ThisIsMyLastYear!" Beginning in September, I created charts of any district in the area where I could reasonably go without taking an even bigger pay cut than I did last time around. Then I circled the only one that was feasible to me: Pattonville. It's the #1 most diverse district in Missouri. It's 13 minutes from my house. They posted 3 high school openings this spring. I know two of the principals in the district (although not at the school).  And -- importan...
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Saurya - Courage

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I haven't been sleeping well lately. I've been so anxiety-ridden that I literally made a Google Doc to keep track of all of the things I am anxious about. This includes everything from remembering to get medicine for my altitude sickness, to needing to return luggage before its expiration date, to buying enough cat food, disposable litter boxes, and litter for Poppy while I'm gone. It's possible that my brain is seizing upon these fears because it cannot, it cannot  seize upon the bigger fears, like, "What if I get lost somewhere in Indonesia and literally cannot communicate with anyone?" I had my whole trip planned and then my friend Tiago blew it all to hell when he said, "If Tumpak Sewu has been on your bucket list for years, you can't get THAT CLOSE to it and not find a way to see it." It felt like Venice all over again, like something I would regret forever if I didn't at least try. So I threw my ENTIRE plan -- my pretty calendars and li...
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