There have been seasons of my life when I've allowed a mixture of pride and introversion to isolate me. That island is no more.
When we are put in a difficult situation and find ourselves instinctively reaching out for the rescue boat, this reinforces, by grace, that our ultimate purpose in this life is anchored in our connections with others.
One of the [five] classes on my schedule is taught by myself and two other teachers in my [tiny] classroom. I was a hair shy of losing sleep this summer because I was anxious about co-teaching with just one individual. Now, I light up when I see my co-teaching peers step inside my room. The necessity of allowing less of me to make way for a greater good of more help for our students--it's wonderful!
This new role is presenting opportunities for growth I didn't anticipate. Meeting new administrators, teachers, students, and parents has my mind frantically processing new ideas, new emotions, new connections. I'm going deep into my well of empathy. I'm reshaping some previously held notions about what it should look like to teach reading and writing. I'm penning a new definition of "good disciplinarian."
Of course I call my mom and make myself vulnerable for advice with my husband and reach out to friends. But I'm seeing this immersion into the unknown is a liberating kind of existence... which says to me things like: take risks, embrace opportunity, go where you are no friend, daughter, or wife. The open-mindedness required of me and this output of growth has me giddy about more experiences which could kick me out of my comfort zone.
I am not an island. I am not perfect. I am not always right.
And I thank God that in the past two weeks I've seen those windows of perfection, righteousness, and isolation shatter and fall before my eyes.
What a beautiful sight!