It has been a year since I resigned from teaching. In reflective mode, I view the last year as an important one for me. So much has changed.
1. I am no longer ruled by the clock - and it is telling that this is the first thing that springs to mind, as like many people, I find the pressure of time to be a significant stress factor. I can now organise my day without any constraints and at my own pace. The problem that I have now is that most of my day is taken up doing household tasks, leaving little time for me to write. Mr C has suggested that I need to be more disciplined and rigid in setting aside time for writing, and I think that he is right. Currently, it is the thing that I leave until last and fit in around everything else. My house is a lot tidier and the ironing basket is less Kilimanjaro, but I do need to rethink my responsibilities and prioritise writing over home jobs. And to start treating writing as my job, becoming more disciplined in dedicating a number of hours to my work each week. Currently this blog is the only task I rigidly complete and I would definitely benefit from setting a few more goals. So here we go - 3 hours uninterrupted writing a day will be my goal; let's see how that goes.
2. My family life. My children are growing up. H is a proper grown up who lives completely independently from his parents, has a proper grown up relationship along with plans for the future. T has just completed her first year at University and that has been a massive challenge - moving far far away and making a new life for herself, living independently from her family and support networks and solving problems without us close by. It hasn't been the experience she was expecting, as she has had to live within her means, and that combined with living on a rural campus has restricted the accessibility of wild nights out to maybe only once a week. As her Mum, I have hated her being so far away, particularly as she is rubbish at keeping in touch, and will go for days without answering calls or texts. But I am reassured that she is living in a fairly safe environment, which is warden patrolled and where the biggest danger might come from a rogue fox or badger. I am glad that she doesn't live in the rough student housing where I lived, in Northern towns during the early 1990s. She is just as reckless as I was, particularly where alcohol is concerned and I took far too many risks, but those were different times, and as a drunken student walking home on my own, the most serious hazard I faced was the kerb which hit my face as I fell into the gutter. Luckily I had friends who were passing in a taxi on their way home who picked me up and carried me home. And the next night when my face began to swell, due to a fractured cheekbone and resultant infected blood clot, my very good friend Loz drove me to the nearest hospital and spent hours trying to get someone to help me. I had to have an operation and spent 5 nights in hospital, and I have a scar on my left cheek to remind me of my stupidity. I am lucky in that it looks like a dimple, but it was a frightening experience - especially as my whole face swelled up to gargantuan proportions and closed my left eye completely. I didn't learn my lesson, but I was very lucky to have escaped so lightly. I would hope that a drunken girl lying helpless in the gutter in the middle of the night would still be looked after by good samaritans now, as I was then, but there seem to be so many other dangers present. So I am relieved that she lives where she does - she still gets the occasional wild night out in Hull, where she dances like a maniac and does stupid things, but she and her friends are reliant on each other to get home, and cannot afford to storm off into the night like I often did.
When she was away, the house was much tidier, much calmer and I missed her every day. When she first left, I would go into her room each morning and lie on her bed for a while, and return again later to whisper 'goodnight Thea' before I went to bed. I don't need to do that anymore. This year has flown, and she has done so well. And now she is back home for several months. So although it has been hard for all of us, and so so painful, the moment of parting and for a few days after, I am now able to console myself with the fact that a year at Uni only equates to around 6 months in human years, which is good for my soul even if not my wallet.
3. I am free. For the first time in 25 years, I have been able to enjoy my holidays and evenings without the constant burden of writing lesson plans, marking assessments or tracking. And a May half term without report writing is absolute bliss. I have said before that the only things I miss are the children and my friends. And a year on, I still feel the same. I always felt that being a teacher was part of who I was. It dominated my waking and often sleeping hours for such a long time, and I still have dreams where I haven't got the classroom ready or can't get to school on time, so it is still somewhere at the back of the mind. But I have learnt that it isn't who I am. It was just a job, and a great job for most of the time. But it robbed me of my time, my life, and sometimes of my family, and in the end, it was too high a price to pay. There is so much more to us than the job we do, and although I used to feel proud of being a teacher, I am now so glad to be free of the shackles that bound me for so long. There is so much more to life, and to us than just the job we do. So take heart dear friends!
4. Wellbeing Tied up with my job and lack of time and the pressures I faced, I had neither the time nor the energy to look after myself. And I was getting bigger and bigger, and really slowing down, and putting it down to ageing, when in reality, I was just eating too much of the wrong stuff, and not moving enough. I loved cooking and made lots of cakes and biscuits and bread, and enjoyed eating it as much as baking it. But enough was enough, I couldn't carry on, risking my health. So reluctantly, I joined Slimming World and found that it wasn't as dreadful as I had anticipated. And we unexpectedly made lots of new friends too, so much so that our Slimming World meetings on a Monday night are a much looked forward to part of our week. I also joined a Facebook group called Pinch of Nom, which is full of tasty recipes and inspiring stories of ordinary people who have changed their lives from eating healthily. And I have started to follow the plan (mostly - sorry Jane), and I get the results I deserve. I am still way off my target weight, but it's a marathon, not a sprint apparently. I needed to be in the right frame of mind to do it. And and now I feel like I am, with the time and energy I need for it to work. My 50th birthday was a surprising milestone too. It got me thinking, that if I didn't start looking after myself and becoming more active, that I would miss the boat completely. I am thankful to the friends who showed me that it was possible to go from totally inactive to running regularly. But I'm also grateful to have had the time to devote to it. And with running, come other benefits. I feel much better about myself (not during a run though), I can do so much more, and I enjoy the headspace during the run. It enables me to work through problems and difficulties, to notice things around me, and to say hello to all of the people who I didn't even realise were there, walking their dogs and delivering post and loading their vans just down the road.
There is a garden just around the corner which has the most gorgeous borders, and I deliberately walk that way as I am warming down from my run. At the moment there are beautiful alliums, all standing proudly, heads swaying in the breeze. If I was still driving everywhere, I would never have noticed them. I am desperate to pick them and put them in a tall glass vase on my kitchen windowsill, but I need to leave them where they are, for everyone to admire. And for the bees. Never forget the bees!
For so many years, I didn't have the time or the opportunity to do the things I enjoyed or wanted to do, because I was so encumbered. I spent less time with my children that I would have chosen, and this is my biggest regret. I can always think of benefits - such as having been a positive female role model for them, encouraging them to understand the value of hard work, and the fact that they had to just get on with it, and learn to entertain themselves, rather than having had it all served up to them on a plate. But I'm fooling no-one. They are amazing people - hard working, resilient, independent and self sufficient. But they would probably have been like that anyway. I would have much rather been there with them than sitting hunched over my laptop or number crunching until the early hours. But needs must, and there were bills that needed paying. I feel like I have had my share of hard work, and I feel for anyone who still needs to work that hard to support themselves or their family. But what I have discovered, is that it is a very high price to pay.
5. Money. There is, I know a massive difference between having enough money, and not having enough. And not having enough is horrendous and stressful and all consuming. I have been lucky to have only experienced it a few times and then only for relatively short periods. I cannot imagine the stress of it long term, when there appears to be no means of escape.
During the last few years, I was fortunate that money was not an issue, and I could usually afford to buy what I wanted, as well as what I needed. What I have now discovered is that it is better (for me at least) to just have enough to cover what I and my family need, than to have more money at the expense of time and wellbeing and health. L might not necessarily agree and often says 'why can't you go back to work' as she gazes longingly at 'beauty bay' and 'pretty little thing'. But I feel like I have been set free, and having to watch what I spend is a very small price to pay for that. And of course, I have to thank for my freedom, the man who still occasionally refers to me as the ball and chain. He was the one who said that I didn't have to do it any more, if I didn't want to. And he's the one who is out of the house at 6.15 every morning, even though he retired 3 years ago. I think that he hoped I would be getting paid for my art by now, and perhaps I am a bit of a disappointment to him. But if I am, he doesn't ever tell me, apart from the odd hint here and there.
I always love this time of year, as the garden bursts into life and our garden slowly changes from a dark damp mossy corner to a little haven of loveliness. Yesterday we went to Beckworth Emporium, a fabulous garden centre with a marvellous deli and restaurant. I received a gift voucher and an afternoon tea experience from my dear friends in Nursery last year, and Mr C and I set off with the intention of using both. Last year when T and I visited Chelsea Flower Show, I fell in love with the roses, and have been looking into buying a rose bush for the garden. David Austin roses seem to be very popular, although expensive, and I love the big luscious blooms and particularly the peachy yellowy 1970s colours that remind me of the roses in the garden of the house where I lived as a child. A recommendation from a friend on FB was what nailed it for me, and I decided to use my voucher to buy something special. There were so many to choose from - google them; they are the most beautiful roses I've ever seen. After much deliberation, I went for one called Lady Emma Hamilton, but I would have been happy with any of them.
This rosebush will make me smile every time I look at it, and think of Mary Poppins, Barbie, Griffy and Mrs C. The planned afternoon tea has been postponed as we were swayed by the specials board, but I am glad to have another excuse to go back there. And I might even save up for another rosebush. The photo shows my purchase still in its original pot, inside a container, but my job for tomorrow (once I have done my 3 hours of writing) will be to pot it, and to read the instructions to find the best place to keep it. I will try to remember to post a photo when it blooms. Currently there are lots of buds, so I don't think it will be too long. Thanks to my kind nursery friends for bringing a spot of glamour to my garden.
The highlight of last week, which I must briefly mention, was a trip with my very good long-time (definitely not old) friend Frances. to see Take That at Milton Keynes Stadium. We had a great day, arriving in the nick of time just before 3pm to secure the last outside table at Prezzo, although we did feel sorry for the people who came after us who were told that there were no tables available until 7.30. We had a leisurely lunch and a couple of drinks before attempting to get into the stadium just before 6pm. The queues were long and it was fortunate that most people were in good spirits. Rick Astley was the warm up act and did a marvellous job. We had quite good seats and the crowd around us were lively but not too much so. Take That were excellent although the stage sometimes felt a bit empty, and I wondered whether they missed Robbie and Jason as much as I did. The boys were very fit and as charismatic and professional as always, but it was apparent that they have failed to halt the aging process and have lost some of their energy and speed along the way, which made their performances a little more laboured. Still fabulous, but I think this might be my last tour. And perhaps it should also be theirs.
Comments