Rupert taps on the cupboard door

2010 continues ...

During that earlier part of 2010, I took Long Service Leave; my third one. I'm not the sort of person who makes sensible decisions about accruing leave for retirement. As soon as I'm within 'sniffing distance' I'm already filling out the forms and planning what I will do. Making sensible decisions doesn't seem to be my forte as you may well be sensing by now. My logic runs along the lines of 'what if I die before I ever get to use my LSL? What a waste that would be when I could be kicking up my heels, rather than my feet!' In fact, I have been fairly conservative in the use of those paid holidays. I have used them to live out the life of a writer, with an income. That has been an important psychological move on my part, trying out a test run of the life I want. So, 2010 was no different. I finished my second novel, worked on my thesis, and set up daily routines. It was during this time that LC and I made contact and I also stepped up my practice of yoga. The return to teaching jarred the smooth running of what I considered now to be my right livelihood and I remember feeling sad that I was leaving my characters behind, stored in the cupboard of my desk. Rupert, the beautiful man of my first novel had been there for quite a while. I love that man and I felt sad that nobody else was getting to love him too. He tapped patiently on that cupboard door.  During a pause in the working day one Friday (yes, I'm sure it would have been a Friday because it's often when I am most inspired), I saw a competition advertised in a writers' magazine, with the prize being a publishing contract for the successful novel. What did I have to lose? I was already familiar with the returned envelopes in the post if you recall so, what was another one? I lifted Rupert, Neti and Athena out of the cupboard, printed off a new copy to specifications, kissed the envelope for good luck, got back to the business of teaching, and promptly forgot about it. That is, until ...

The Veil

2010 continues...

Ever felt like there is something between you and knowing the answers? I call it The Veil. My Life Coach (LC) and I talk a bit about this phenomenon. The Veil is thin. I can see the size and shapes of the things I want in my life, but can't quite see them clearly enough. I'm certain that it will be a simple thing that lifts that veil - an 'aha' moment, but for the moment it seems that that simple thing is known only to the blessed and people who read The Secret. In the meantime, i have bills to pay, a family to love and a job to do. Enough navel pondering. I need to be more Zen and focus on the moment, find joy in sitting through endless staff meetings, try a new diet to give me more energy, do more yoga, be more selfless, be more grateful, think more abundantly, radiate joy, be here now... ahhhh!! But in spare moments I'm designing my bookshop cafe, thinking about doing another CAE course to learn how to make it a success, and in the meantime my novels are gathering another year of dust, just as my ambition is.  

The Life Coach said ...

I realised that I was going to bring Whispers out of the cupboard in the last blog, but got side-tracked by events that I previously thought were inconsequential , and now realise that they were significant in the path to making the decision to leave my career as a teacher for 25 years.

During the course of 2010, I became increasingly unsettled that I was about to tick over a quarter of a century, nearly half my life, in the one career, in the one place. Of course I still dreamed of writing for a living; however, in spite of my naturally optimistic nature, I couldn't deny that the odds of that occurring were statistically stacked against me. And so I began to focus on other options, the most prominent of these being that I would run my own Bookshop/Cafe. I'm sure you can already see the inherent problems, especially in the current climate for bookstores, but I was becoming desperate and the optimist in me believed I could make it work. When the opportunity to take up the offer of free sessions with someone training to be a Life Coach occurred, I decided to give it a shot, despite my misgivings. Many things were discussed over those sessions. My Life Coach (LC) became a confidante, not of deeply personal issues, but a sounding board for my frustrations, ambitions and dreams. She was significantly younger than I was, but this became less and less of an issue for me as time went on. Although there were many things that I could write here that were said, one in particular stayed with me and, I believe, was a significant subconscious catalyst for me to make my move. LC asked me if I could recall a time when I had previously made a significant decision. What was I doing? Where was I located? etc. Immediately, I recalled sitting on the verandah of a house we were renting. The children were young and neither my partner nor I had any prospects. He, and I had become parents at seventeen (independently) and had been busy raising children. Things were tight, but I dreamed of having our own home and a good income, even though the odds were statistically stacked against me. (note repetition). And so I was sitting on the verandah, daydreaming about a brighter future. I don't remember a light-bulb moment, just getting up, looking up the number of a local high school, and enrolling in a night course to do two subjects in Year 12. I was going to be a naturopath. The decision was made.  As it happens, I didn't become a naturopath. I completed the year, enrolled in a teaching institution because I would have more security and school holidays, and that decision changed our lives. As I related this to LC, I began to weep. I remembered how desperate I was, I remembered how significantly that decision changed everything, but I also remembered that the choice I made was not the one I wanted to make, even if in retrospect, it was the wisest one. LC listened patiently. Even before she said it, I knew it too. If I could do it then, I could do it now. All I really needed was the same sense of urgency. I had that too. 

As I was saying...

These blogs are a record of the process towards my big decision to quit work and follow my dreams. Given that my mind is often in the scrambled state of a left-over's omelette , I apologise in advance if they transcribe to the written page in the same form.

I had said that I had given away a full-time career, one that was far from unpleasant. Somedays, I remind myself of that in a berating way, especially when there is little income and the coffers are depleting. So... going back to 2010. The two novels are in the cupboard if you recall and I  have enough rejections to line the walls of a large dog's kennel. I am 6 years in to a Phd at Melb Uni, but do at least have a novel to show for it (the second one in the cupboard) and am plodding, no that sounds too sure-footed, stumbling my way through the research component. (I blame of course all the distractions in my life (and there are many!) for not finishing the thesis, for not allowing enough time for creative writing). Life at work is predictable, but also becoming a lot more demanding and therein lie the problems. I'm getting very tired and I envisage that, if I keep up the current lifestyle, I will have to work for.. perhaps another ten years. I'm about to clock up 25 years so the thought of staying in the one place for 35 years is abhorrent. But I could. It would be safe, I'd have a fair Super, but I would continue to watch my ageing process in the Staff toilet mirror and I didn't like what I was seeing. If I was going to 'jump ship' it would have to be now, but what would I do? I didn't want to go to another school, I would start at the bottom of the totem pole and I was too proud for that. So, I began to dream of other things I could do, most of which didn't involve writing at all because I was losing faith that I would ever be published. An opportunity arose to have six phone sessions with a Life Coach. Now, you need to understand that, although I am a reader of Self-Help books (I can't believe I've admitted that publicly) I cringed at the idea of having someone 'guide' me through my life. That just seemed to confirm that I really was worthy of those rejections. But this was to help someone out with their course and, it was free. 

Next blog: What the Life Coach said