I think there is something wrong with my internal compass. Seriously.
It’s like every time I set out to do something, I end up in a totally different direction. Is it just me?
When I was twenty-one, for example, I bought a one-way ticket to England where I planned to live, work, and study Shakespearean theatre. I fancied myself the next Maggie Smith – not just because I adored her, but also because I’d been told I was like her in the few instances where I dabbled in community productions at home.
I had contacted family overseas, arranged accommodations, and set a path for myself, and then three weeks before I left a man entered my life. Unsolicited, on both our parts. He was actually interested in my older sister, who was a friend of his girlfriend, who was on her way out. My sister happened to be living with me at the time, and so our paths crossed inevitably, and I remember thinking how easily she attracted the good ones, until one night, out of the blue, he kissed me.
I think I stammered something about leaving soon, and not being available, and he said he’d wait.
So after three weeks in the UK, lonely and filled with uncertainty, I flew back and ended up married and living in a fishbowl (small town Ontario) and acting as recreational director, and head cook for our family of five.
Totally missed the mark there.
Then after years of roadblocks, at the age of forty-four, I went back to school, finally deciding to pursue another dream of mine: becoming a teacher. Made it through Teacher’s college, with distinction (and not just because I was the oldest one there), and landed my first job, which lead to another job, and so on for ten years, when I finally reached my ideal position, and then….I got sick. Not kind of sick, but drop dead exhausted, unable to get out of bed ill.
Am now the queen of lying in bed all day, have a limited audience (bless you my dear readers), and am doing the opposite of making difference in the lives of others.
Go figure. See? Internal compass problems.
Should have got that fixed before I tried following my passions.
Writer, avid reader, former educator, and proud grandmother, currently experiencing life through the lens of ME/CFS. Words are, and always have been, a lifeline. Some of the best adventures, I'm discovering, take place in the imagination.