It's over, move on

I am participating in the
 Slice of Life.  
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, 
on Tuesdays.

                                                        Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

There have been so many moments that have felt like The End. 

Perhaps it was emptying my classroom, for the final time?

Back in February, I asked to leave full-time teaching. I know/knew it was time for this phase of my career to be over. I no longer had the right spirit and energy for the lead teacher position; it was time to shift into another role. I had every intention of working part-time at the school - I love my school, this community. I suggested ways to support teachers in their work with children.

My administration was excited about this, too. 

Then - boom! Pandemic.

There have been so many moments that have felt like The End.

Thinking about new positions in the midst of smaller, stressed budgets is not to be. Not just yet. We don't know what comes next, what awaits in this new year.

Contracts went out in April, and there was no contract for me. Not even a simple, "we're not sure about next year, but we love you."

It was eerie, honestly.

Then, one month ago, a beautiful paragraph in a note to families, announcing my retirement. 

Sharing important announcements about next year's staffing...We want to celebrate Maureen's retirement and wish her well...Maureen Ingram, Founding Preschool Teacher, set the tone for the vision of teaching and learning for our youngest students. She has given a special welcome and many remarkable experiences to preschool students and their families over the years. Maureen's contributions, from her writings to her thoughtful words, will stand in support of children for years to come.

Wait, what?

What just happened?

There have been so many moments that have felt like The End.

I have been retired.

I did not retire.

The school retired me.

Stunning.

As I loaded my things into the car, I inadvertently snapped a selfie mid-process:

This is me, right now. These days. A clear image of the chaos I feel - mask on, hair flying every which way, all mixed up I am.

Everything about the world these days is 

wild, 

chaotic,

raw,

uncertain, 

painful, 

mixed up.

There have been so many moments that have felt like The End.

My little piece of this seems so trivial in the midst of all else.

Loading my car with all my 'treasures,' those things that I want to keep?

I had to make two trips; yes, I filled my car twice, with belongings. I can't quite say 'over.' There are things I may still need, working with children, in some new way. 

I never wanted my career in early childhood to be over. 

It's not.

Stay tuned.

Pema Chodron, "When Things Fall Apart" - 

The only time we ever know what's really going on is when the rug's been pulled out and we can't find anywhere to land. We use these situations either to wake ourselves up or to put ourselves back to sleep. Right now - in the very instant of groundlessness - is the seed of taking care of those who need our care and of discovering our goodness.