This post is for me.
I have a feeling that my sweet and faithful followers (all three of you, including you, Mom) will read this and think that I either need to chillax or get a nice big bear hug, but I promise I don't. I don't need any comments on this one, any positive affirmations or reassurances that I am doing exactly what I should be doing. And no, I am not depressed (at least I don't think so).
But I am real.
And I think writing brings out the reflective in me, the self-assessing in me, the raw in me that I don't reveal anywhere else. And that's so much of why I write and why I teach writing. I think everyone who lives and breathes and thinks and cares about people and works hard and tries and fails and loves and loses and learns and learns and learns again experiences these really RAW and COME TO JESUS moments when we realize that in spite of all of our good intentions, we really aren't in control and have no idea how things are going to turn out.
I am a happy person by nature and an incredibly blessed person by God and I wouldn't change a thing about my life, not where I've been or where I'm going. I have the greatest husband in the entire world (sorry, ladies) and the sweetest, most loving little boy and the most faithful beagle you could imagine. My life is joyful (in the literal sense of the word) and rich and good and sweet. There are no "but's," I promise. I simply can't, nor don't, ask for more. I am FULL.
In 19 days, we move out of NYC and head back to the Bluegrass state, my old Kentucky home. Moving back there was a choice that Clay and I made thoughtfully and prayerfully, and as we begin to say goodbye to our new friends in the city, all of whom are heading in different directions themselves, my heart has been keenly attuned to the choices that the people around me--and I--make.
So that's the topic of this post: choices.
And while I have learned a lot about parenting and marriage and friendship and grief and patience and generosity and kindness and humility this year (A LOT), I think so much of what I have learned boils down to this: Choose to be happy.
That's it. Choose to be happy, Sara.
But it's so frickin' hard sometimes.
Because this post is for me and because I want to remember not only the Kodak moments from this year but also the hard lessons learned along the way, I'll begin with an example from today.
Clay has been working insanely hard on this group project in which the group has to completely and realistically design a new school. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but it's a lot of work. And his group stinks. I tried to be understanding of them at first and give them the benefit of the doubt, but now I am just being honest: they are disappointing. So Clay has been working overtime to get this project up to speed, and the last step is a 20 minute presentation in front of his fellow cohort members, the directors of his program, and impressive community leaders who agreed to "judge" these projects. So for the past 48 hours, Clay and I have been working side-by-side on this powerpoint because none of his other four group members devoted time to it. And you know what? We had so much fun working together; it made us excited about working together next year.
Anyways, we dressed up this powerpoint and worked until their final group meeting today at noon, at which point he took the powerpoint to the other members for continued creative input and improvement. He came home not much later, reporting that the group liked it and said it was fine. No changes. They said thanks.
And I'll be honest. At that moment, I wanted to be in the program. I wanted to do better in this program than his group members, I wanted to see what I could accomplish when challenged, I wanted to stand up next to Clay tomorrow and co-deliver this new school pitch and write all the papers and read all the books and visit cool schools and earn a degree that would probably accelerate my career and give me a faster shot, if not a better shot, at achieving my long-term professional ambitions (whew, I said it).
And then Will woke up.
And I suddenly remembered that I had changed.
He held his sweet arms up to me and smiled as I twirled him around in circles and said "yeth" when I asked him if he wanted to go outside and I, for perhaps the 954,286,036,715th time, thanked God for him.
It's okay to love the little things, Sara. In fact, those little things may be big things after all.
I think part of the reason this year has been two steps forward, one step back for me is because I am learning how to love being more of a mom than an achiever in the literal shadow of the perhaps the largest academic building in the country devoted to education. Our two apartment windows stare at the back of Teacher's College. And when I walk out our dorm, I walk around it but rarely go into it. And that is so WEIRD to me. Professionally, I am driven and devoted and eager to grow and hopeful that I too can be a school leader one day. There have been many moments (not days, just moments) when I wonder what my career would look like if I too had been getting this degree. The fact that another couple is in the program together (and has an awesome nanny for their 2 year old daughter) doesn't often help that thinking. But then I come back to choices, and I am confident in the choices we've made.
If I had been in the program too, Will would have been with a nanny more than with us.
We would have been doubly broke.
I would never have developed such a close friendship with Maresa, and Will wouldn't know Mac as well.
This year would have been STRESSFUL for our family.
I would have been going to school with Clay's ex-girlfriend (I'm over it, but still, no thanks).
I wouldn't have experienced as much of NYC.
I would have missed Ali's wedding.
I wouldn't have been able to visit my sister in SF.
I wouldn't have enjoyed nearly as many runs around Central Park in the mornings.
And because it counts way more than twice, I wouldn't have been with Will.
On my way out the door tonight after our now-daily hang-out sessions, Maresa smiled at me and said, "I like living life with you."
Exactly.
Knowing all that I know about this year, would I have made the same choice? To quit my job and leave my friends and invest our savings in this program for Clay? Hell YES. Wouldn't change a thing. Not a damn thing.
Would I choose to go to UVA again? No doubt in my mind. It gave me some of my greatest friends.
Would I choose to work at Saint James after college again? You better believe it. I met my future
husband.
Would I choose to marry Clay again? It's only the best decision I ever made. He makes my life.
Would I choose to move to Chattanooga and work at an all-girls school again? Yes yes and yes. It
changed who I am as a teacher, coach, and friend.
I am a big believer in everything happens for a reason. I may not know what my career is going to look like or whether I am developing my resume in the way that I should, but I do know that if I follow my heart and what I know is right, I am making the right choice. And I also know that no matter what direction that choice takes me in, I have the power to choose to be happy. That doesn't mean it's easy. And that doesn't mean that I don't think all the time about the choices (sacrifices?) other stay-at-home parents are making, other job candidates are making...really, the choices that everyone is making around me all the time. Making choices, especially life-changing ones, can be overwhelming, and I give people so much more credit for the decisions they've made than I used to.
My sweet Will chooses to be happy every morning when he wakes up. It's life-giving, really. I walk into his room, so bare and full of moving boxes, and without fail, his face is beaming. And all of the choices I've ever made in my life fast-forward me to his side and give me the ability to wrap him up in my embrace and call him mine--and to know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Here's to the next choice: Louisville!
