Free me to fly

I don’t like to rant or unleash the griping self-pity monster if I can help it, but this is one of those times when I must let some things out or I will a) blow up b) sink into depression or c) give up the fight. I tend to internalize stress and conceal emotions, a survival skill learned in gymnastics and refined as a teacher. However, if I boil below the surface too long without venting, I am afraid I will say something to someone or do something that I will regret. I prefer to write about beautiful things, but I have nothing to draw on right now to do so. So perhaps if I get this out of my system, there will be room for something better.
I feel like I am trapped in a glass cage of Self, watching as Me who is not really Me slaves away in service to society, working to survive instead of working to share what I am good at in a way that is fulfilling. Life is unfolding and passing me by as I watch from within; I am only happy when I am not working, which tells me that making enough money does not matter if the job is only a job and a thief of my time and intellect.
I have had some bitter experiences lately with the work schedule of my moonlighting job. I have nothing against the powers-that-be, and cannot blame the establishment for being what it is: retail, which encourages consumers to consume and demands that employees be available to meet the need, selling their birthright to any holidays or weekends. So far, all of my holidays have been stolen –Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years- and now it appears that my birthday is not exempt either. Wednesday is my only day off, but because I am available, apparently I may be scheduled to work retail that day every now and then (surprise!) too. I was looking forward to this Wednesday to have a little time for myself to celebrate my birthday, even if it’s as simple as going to a movie, eating Chinese sit-down instead of take-out, having my scheduled massage, and going to choir practice. Irony of ironies, I am scheduled to work THAT Wednesday –during the time of the massage appointment and choir practice, of course. I feel like there is a mocking soundtrack playing “Crappy Birthday to you…” My bad attitude is partially due to having all my other holidays screwed up, generally feeling tired all the time, and not having much time for myself to be myself. I sometimes feel like breaking down in tears, or yelling out my frustrations before the anger fades to hopeless resignation. I want to quit, but I am not a quitter. I also cannot afford to quit yet.
When I am teaching, I feel a bit more genuinely like myself. I can think, share, have a sense of humor, encourage, and rest between classes. I also have to do a lot of crowd control and endure classes that feel like nothing was accomplished because the students were like molecules bouncing off each other and creating chaotic chain reactions, creating fires that I have to put out instead of making the lesson a learning experience. I feel a silent sadness, a plea for respect and a desire to share worthwhile things with people who desire to understand them.

I long to be free of the glass cage, free to fly somewhere that I can be the best of who I am but have hidden deep inside, where I look forward to work because I want to be there doing it. The internalized scream is getting louder, more persistent, and I can only contain it with the hope that if I can hang in there and stick with this through the end of the school year, I will have a chance to break free. I’d rather go into debt going to grad school, than have the “security” of a dead-end job and a mismatched profession that trap me forever in the glass cage.
There is a beautiful song, “Far Away,” sung by the boy’s choir Libera (it’s the one playing on my MySpace page); the words and melodies resonate with what I am feeling right now; the longing to fly away, feeling lost in the dark but following a shining star that is God, who can lead and rescue me. The powers of darkness are glad that I am miserable. Such adversity tells me that something good must be around the corner, if I can withstand the struggles that come before it.
Part of an old hymn comes to mind: “Are ye weary, heavy-laden, burdened with a load of care? In His arms He’ll take and shield thee, thou wilt find a solace there…”

I have thus reached the end of my rant, and hope that the next blog entry I write will be a much nicer, more positive one. Honestly, life is hard right now and could be a lot better, but it could also be a lot worse. It’s not the end of the world if I have to work on my birthday; maybe there’s a great one in store for me next year. Maybe I’ll have the gift of having survived and put this year behind me and moved on to greener pastures, where there are no feelings of glass cages…Maybe I’ll be a free bird!