This whole teaching lark is somehow exactly what I thought it would be and also disappointing at the same time. Teaching seems to be as I expected but I am not how I expected. I don't mean that I'm not as good as I thought I'd be (I'm pretty average for where I am) I guess I thought I'd feel differently about it than I do.
It is something that I could do for the rest of my life but I'm not satisfied. I guess there isn't such a thing as too busy to think of the dreams you're missing out on. I know without any doubt that what I should be doing with my life is writing. For the first time in my life I know that. I don't just think it would be fun if I could get my bum in gear as a hobby to write a book in spare time from a real job, which is how I felt before.
I'm not satisfied playing at it anymore. The trouble is there is no practical way to do this so I must keep on the path I'm on and hope that one day I'll find my way back.
2 comments:
It's an aching, knawing feeling that stays with you for a long time but unfortunately this doesn't mean you will actually write in your spare time - just long too. I long to, dream about writing but still can not actually move myself to do anything worthwhile. I think I am afraid to fail. Don't be like this, write, keep writing and put your stuff out there. It is good enough.
ta x
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