| I've been here nearly one week, and already it feels like a lifetime. The world is very different, the people, the culture... their way of life. All of it new. We've experience two days of teaching. I realized my desire and perspective on teaching is unique and effective. I would like to continue to teach abroad and am inspired to obtain the necessary credentials in order to do so. I spent a school year working so hard to be where I am now, standing on Caribbean soil and more present in the now than I have ever been in my life. The people here are so lovely to be around... especially the women. A town filled with the most nurturing, loving, and generous women I have ever been around. They greet with pearly whites, and genuinely show interest when you reach out to connect. It dawned on me how disconnected people are in North America from one another. Here - it would feel unnatural and rude to just ignore a person that passed you by. Everyone acknowledges one another. Everyone here is friendly, and if not, at the very least, polite. This experience thus far has really opened me up. I feel inspired and surprised at how organic the teaching process is. The classroom has become my home, and the students have become my children. My dream for communal living has become solidified now more than ever. I've also been in deep gratitude for the opportunities that are offered in Canada and the States. There are so many countries in the world whose children do not have the option of finishing their education because of lack of resources. These teenagers are so bright and talented, and yet they struggle to even make it to school because some of them live so far away. Their commitment is humbling. My partners and I have lamented in these few days because we know we won't have enough time to really make much of a difference in their lives. It seems as if we came here to help them... but really, the opposite is true. They have opened up their classroom to help us gain experience in this field, and all I can do is learn as much as I can and pay it forward when I graduate this program. I am eternally grateful for their kindness and selflessness in this process. There are no words. P.S - the song above ~ {{{ Love }}} ! |
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A tundra eclipsed blue. there is no territory here left undiscovered. What has been imagined, has been done before... and now only compassion exists in the memory of forgotten song. I watch the passerbys, those who gravitate toward their kind. And diminish a little while longer when on the streets I seek but do not find. This comfort, It must be bought; here in this world. The rules are your money determines your worth. Who made these rules anyways, contradictory and complex? Don't we know, we all share this pressing similarity. We seek the rhythm in all things. We yield, in the same way as the violin string. Does your heart not compress and bleed to the songs of yearning? It is the oldest human memory. This yearning. So familiar and intimate beneath our breasts. I awoke this morning to watch the horrors of political riots shown in a documentary during class and felt my stomach writhe with anxiety. I have hit my capacity for the unending threshold of pain. Show me beauty without suffering; has it ever existed? The two are lovers, and rejoice in their birth of these creatures. Can you guess? We are their children, in favor of one parent over the other. We, who continuously deny our pain and cling instead to beauty. As if the two are separate, in truth! That they understand a level of devotion beyond our comprehension. Some of us attempt to grasp the concept of pain and pleasure with infant capacity. We direct our knowledge in mockery, capitalizing on a fragmented understanding with sexual sadism role play. But what is the true image of suffering in this cold country? Without the gentle hand of beauty to soften the blow, there is no reason for this. No desire to endure. Only the screeching halt of silence that deafens ears born for song. I beg for beauty to surround me in times like these. Where the cold consumes my language that wants only to illustrate love. I lament in my primal instinct to survive, when my mind finds some pleasure in the insufferable pain. We have conditioned ourselves for this, a false sense of relief. Perhaps this is why our arousal peaks when we have lost what we did not want when it was ours. A lover tastes so much more sweet with parting's grim release. Those footsteps, all the more wanted when they walk the other way. |
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