If that doesn't sound like the start or source of an MOG then I have failed as a blogger.
It was seven actually; four for my own section, three others from opinion, reviews and external. Why would I put such pressure on my self so early in the term? Beyond me. I just wanted to write- that's all I've wanted to do since I started at the paper; since I started this blog, since I bought a $5 journal from Chapters and wrote in the thing four times a day for three months.
My goal used to be teach and to shape my life around the idea of working with others worth through themselves. To be in a classroom of my own and to plan a lesson that works for every kid, only to finish early and give some imparting wisdom to bright eyed kids before they dashed out the door. I wanted to be just as good as that teacher you loved, just as smart as that teacher you feared and just as passionate as that teacher who you worked hard for.
That goal is still a goal, but it's grown up. It picked itself off the floor in which it just finished a temper tantrum and quitely moved over to the corner to make room for other goals to come play. There it sits, waiting for it's turn, waiting for me to come back to it. It has matured. It is not a pressure anymore; I do not go to it just because I cry in the middle of the day when I don't know how these essays are going to make a good teacher to a room full of kids. I don't base every decision off of it. I don't think it's the only route for me. That goal grew up, and so did I.
New goals, bigger goals, stronger goals take the place on the traffic map in my brain. The wheels are always turning; what can I do to make it bigger? Between forming new goals and somewhat neglecting old ones. Plans and dreams are one thing, but a goal is a different thing. Goals get edited by nature, they are made to be self perpetuating. It's okay to change.
In comes that message from a friend. It's nice to hear that someone. It's so heartwarming to be acknowledged for all the hard work you did. It's rewarding to know your words are being read. It's a moment that requires a huge thank you, a moment of real and total gratitude that someone reads what you write and think's you're doing something good.
Life is too short for one kind of goal. Life is too short to not open yourself up to something or someone you love. It may end up being the thing that saves you. Writing saved me the way teaching woke me. I don't need one more than the other, I just aim to find a way to make these two coexist. Why would'nt I? It's my goal and I'll set it if I want to.
I had a prof tell me that the only difference between the living and the dead is the livings capability to grow- even in sickness, we grow or change or fight for to get better- there is movement, while the passed remain stagnant. The undercurrent will always be finding something that will keep me thinking, adapting, changing and ultimately growing. Wherever that takes me, I'm sure it's the right path.
I hope to see some of you on the way.
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