Like clockwork, I wake up on a Monday morning and feel crushing sadness.
I roll through my practical tools for managing. Antecedent: Working on-site at a school. Thoughts: What if I’m doing something wrong? What a kid is missing important lesson time and no one lets me know? What if the kids don’t want to do therapy? What if my plan isn’t good enough? Emotions: Sadness
I’m not sure why I’m working at the school on Mondays. To understand this, you have to have some amount of faith. In my life I’ve learned to do things that I feel driven to do, compelled to do, even if I find myself lacking. Even when I think, “Am I good enough?” and “Isn’t there someone better who should be doing this?”
My understanding of faith is that you really can feel what you should be doing. It’s a hard thing to describe. It doesn’t spell out on the page. It’s a feeling like, “I should try.” It’s a breath of fresh air that comes in after you do try. It’s choosing to get on the Rollercoaster, when you’d really rather be eating a hot dog.
And there isn’t a living soul who can tell you that you should try. Or who can tell you if you are actually trying your best. Only you can know, it’s on the inside and it takes some noticing. It’s easy not to notice. So many ways to distract from noticing. But each distraction is hollow, and when you reach out for something real it’s there.
Just like you always knew it would be. Just like you always know it will be.
Try these things that make you nervous. Try these things that feel awkward. Go to places where you can’t possibly fit it.
You’re needed.
Life Without Montages 