I've been thinking about energy and space. About deserving to take up space, to require energy. We (especially women) are told it is best to be quiet and small, that thin is the most desirable, to be quiet is preferred. We feel guilty when people spend time or energy on us, like we are an inconvenience. How foolish.

It doesn't really matter what you believe in for this fallacy to be foolish. If you believe in God, Fate, Science, anything at all... You cannot deny that you were put here.  Not someone else in your place. You. Your life. Your body. Your experiences. Your soul.

It seems to me that if you believe anything at all, then it is not only foolish, but even disrespectful to take this attitude. You are not an inconvenience. You were placed here with a purpose. Don't second-guess the magnitude that. Don't undervalue your unique role. The cards are stacked against us, as a planet, as a species... and yet... here we are.

No. Here YOU are.

You, with your dreams, your ambitions, your actions, your voice. You were not an accident. And regardless of where your life takes you, you never will be. I say you, because I have claimed me.

I claim my unmeasurable strength, and my courageous vulnerability. I claim my actions and my words, even the ones I regret, because they are mine, and I am with purpose; a person with purpose has no baggage or loose ends, only new beginnings and great humblings. I claim my body, every pucker and sinew. I was made out of love. I chose love for my actions and my life. If I am to be strong enough to love in a way that changes things, I must love myself first. I claim my faults, in the way that I see them and work diligently to mend them with self-forgiveness. I claim my weaknesses, in the way that I work tirelessly to turn them into strengths. I claim my triumphs as 1 part endless exuberance and 1 part countless blessings. I am strong because I stand on strong shoulders. This good is mine to share because it was shared with me.

I deserve space and energy because I have chosen a life that endeavors to create. But even more that that, I deserve space and energy because I am. And so do you. Embrace your purpose. It does not have to look grand. It does not have to move mountains or sway nations. It is enough to touch a single life. It is more than enough. It is all we can ask for, that we might fight harder, longer, for the things that we truly care about in the presence loving people and genuine challenges.

We all deserve a chance at that fight, but as long as you are sitting back and allowing the world to tell you your place, you won't be able to give yourself what you need. You have the strength. You've always had it.

How beautiful. And how profoundly deserving of all the time and space and energy this world has to offer you. And you to it.

Well, that sucks.

I am finding myself profoundly overwhelmed. I understand that the task at hand in this particular job is a very different task than many other teaching jobs. To be frank, that understanding is not really helping. 

My children are starving. They're sick. They have few coping skills, and even less of a safety net. They are angry. They have a right to be. 

I understand that loving them is what they need. But it is becoming increasingly difficult to have that love to give when so much of my job is allowing hatred and violence and disrespect to be aimed at myself. I am not immune. I am not invulnerable. And not a day goes by without a threat or curse or assault. It makes me tired. It makes me angry. It makes me want to walk away from that school and never come back. It makes me want to scream at them the way they scream at me. 

But then...some of these children are wonderful. They are so kind and funny and wise. They are still children. They are still ill equipped to face the world. But the life they seek is still seen through a filter of hope. And they want so badly to be loved. There is a little 2nd grader who wraps her arms around my knee and rests her head on my leg whenever we have carpet time. There's a 7th grader who smiles at me with this goofy, toothy grin so full of affection that no matter how angry I am, I can't help but smile back. A 4th grader that stays up all night babysitting his little niece and nephew, but still comes to class every day, and listens sincerely when I tell him he is better than the behavior that he shows. He actively works on it. A 3rd grader who comes in to my room before school most mornings, just so someone will talk to her. She has so many siblings that no one spends much time with just her. A quiet 7th grader with a mouth like a sailor, an attitude, a mean stink eye, and the most beautiful singing voice. I saw her smile for the first time in choir. She's extraordinary.

I found out last week that my job is at risk. That there is a very good possibility that I will be forced elsewhere. In a way I am a little relived that someone might tell me I need to find another job. And at the same time, my heart breaks that I might not be able to stay here with these amazing little people.

I guess the best solution is to live in the moment, fully. My project of late has been to love them. Love them better, love them more, love them actively, love them completely. And maybe, in the end, that will be what makes the difference.