"Every positive change in your life begins with a clear
unequivocal decision that you are either going to
do something or stop doing something."
I find it difficult to determine the best things to write for a first post on a blog. Blogs don't start at the beginning of our lives - instead, we're somewhere in the middle. And full-on backstories range from unnecessary to tedious to nearly impossible.
Well, "Start where you are," is wise advice in any number of situations, so.
Where I am: I'm nearing 30 and have spent the last two tumultuous years as an inner city middle school teacher. I extended my nearly finished college career by years in order to become a secondary English teacher only to discover: this is not the life I want.
(Caveat: My life outside of teaching is pretty damn good - I have a wonderful husband, two ridiculous cats who make me laugh daily, a few friends with whom I often have a pretty damn fabulous time, and close relationships to my remaining close family members.)
The problem? It is so hard to enjoy all of those great things in life when your joie de vivre has been sucked out of your very marrow by your 9 to 5 (or 7 - 4 and sometimes evenings and the occasional weekend grading) responsibilities. Which is where I currently sit. For two more weeks.
Because, you see, I've taken a risk and have intentionally set myself adrift. Despite the uncertainty it would mean for the pragmatic aspects of my future, I have chosen to prioritize happiness and fulfillment, and when the school year ends, I will leave this job behind.
Which brings us, appropriately, to my blog title, or at least, half of it. I am, once again, Adrift. Or really, truly adrift for the first time. My game plan is murky, my life outlook hazy.
Now, as for the "Boldly," that is purely aspirational. I yearn to be bold. Instead, I doubt. I second guess. I look at all of the outside-the-classroom issues of my job and the rock solid reasons why I must depart, and I remind myself that I only get this one chance, this one life, so how can I possibly justify living it in a constant torrent of stress and overstimulation and high-wire taut shoulder muscles? How can I justify how hard it has become to enjoy the little things because every day I've given all I have and then some? And yet, I keep trying to justify spending my life this way. I keep trying to talk myself out of really finding the life that I want.
Luckily, there is a voice inside me that is bold and fierce and determined, a dreamer, a doer, a pathfinder, someone who feels so many Mary Oliver poems to her very core. This is the voice that I'm trying to listen to, this is the voice I hope to let out on this blog.
So for intentions, I hope to make this blog part journal, part lifestyle-focused, part exploration of the genuinely important things in life.
I hope I find a few lovelies willing to come along for the ride.