An 8:15, Again

Ooof oooof oooof. Did you ever have a day where--no matter how well rested and how great your weekend was, how blissful you felt gliding into the long swan song of Sunday, how ready and fueled up you felt, how prepped you were--Monday was just a giant fail?

Monday was a not-giant fail. But not a great day. By 2nd period, I was irritated with my students, and irritated with myself for being irritated, and for not being a masterful teacher who could turn a class around and make a lesson work. Instead, I forced it through in two different periods, and ended up feeling a little broken. Oy, these students. Such power they can have--and so often, they choose to let it go--mostly, because they aren't old enough to recognize what power they do have, or how to use it wisely.

But I left school feeling keyed up, planning on how to prevent failure instead of ensuring success (TOTALLY different things, especially in the classroom) and am still nervous now, because my supervisor is observing me tomorrow in my history class. NOTE: I am not a trained history teacher. So, this would be my...oh, third...history class EVER, and I am feeling fairly wildly out of my element. I have prepped and planned and Xeroxed and created, and frankly, have no time before 8am tomorrow to hunt down any genies in any thrift store bottles.

And, I face down demons of neurosis every day, demons that tell me that if I'm not pouring myself into every worksheet, every project, every nuance of every word, every decision which should really be guided by a goal and a mission, every every every detail of classroom life--well, then I'm not dedicated enough as a teacher, and I really need to either change or leave. Do other professions come with such soul-searching, so constantly?

Tonight, I find myself yearning, just yearning, for both the power of Bikram and the soothing certainty of it. Although I can't guarantee anything about class after the first minute, I can agree to find myself in some moment of some posture tonight. I can agree to find myself, a little bit truer to myself, and a little more real. Rabbit will follow Camel, and all I need to do is show up to that moment, and let someone else figure out what comes next. I can thank Bikram for helping me realize that a fail day is just a day, not a life sentence, and that at some point, the galloping horse that is teaching will seem less like a death threat and more like an adventure.

Erm. Theoretically. I'll let you know how tomorrow goes.