I haven’t written in over a month, and trust me, I feel it. For a writer not to be inspired to write is the worst thing ever. I consider it a form of mental constipation. It’s not for a lack of inspiration, but I think quite the opposite. I’ve had so much happen in the past couple months that I get overwhelmed, and don’t know where to start. It’s like my fear complex; sometimes I get so beyond scared I literally freeze. Completely unable to move, speak nor react to what is happening at the moment.
Perhaps it’s Fight or Flight. Or more likely, it’s a case of my insecurities swallowing me up whole. The thought process of ‘I have nothing to talk about’ or ‘I’m not good enough.’ It’s like recording nails on a chalkboard and asking yourself who the hell would listen to this crap?
<insert internal voice> Ugh, ok. Ok! Stop Tara, stop the drama! Just fucking write, you know that’s what you need to do. We know what you can do, so stop the pity party. Ain’t nobody got time for that!
Ok, let’s break a few things down: In the past 3 months, I’ve been featured on a radio show, parted ways with my current employer, started my own YouTube page and have received the opportunity to possibly teach a creative writing course at my local college.
Wait ~ do the WHAT WHAT?!
The whole adage of ‘ya never know where life may lead you’ has never been more raw and true than at this very moment.
I never, in a million years, imagined myself a college instructor. But I received a request, and I answered.
Mrs. Scalzo, do you have a degree?
Yes. Bachelor of Arts from Columbia.
Mrs. Scalzo, do you have experience in your field?
Yes, 22 years as a professional writer.
They requested a course proposal. I took a few days to think about it before sending it over in early March. But this wasn’t just a proposal. This was an ideal of passion that I hoped to pass on to my perspective students. I don’t want to just teach them the mechanics of writing. I want them to actually feel the process. To explore the influences around them and use these things as creative fodder. To hopefully teach them that the creative process cannot be forced, but felt within. I hope to take this class beyond a simple English class but more the exploration of a cerebral experience. How to reach outside yourself to create the most beautiful piece of work they never knew they could write. How to teach them to write outside the box and explore unique ides to ways to get their ideas on to paper. And yes, if I need to jump up on a desk and scream CARPE DIEM, then I will.
So I sat. For a month. Anxiously waiting for an email or a phone call.
In the meantime, at first, self-doubt was eating me alive.
Yet I waited.
T, do you really have the guts to do this?
You’ve been through this before. Trust the process.
Clearly they don’t like what you’ve submitted. Give it up.
And I continued to wait. With pure hope my heart.
T, if this doesn’t happen, it’s ok. You won’t die. Just wasn’t meant to be.
Until, last Thursday. I received a call from the college. They loved my proposal. They want to meet with me.
Mrs. Scalzo, will April 5th work for you?
<holding my breath> Of course. See you then!
Now the possibility of standing in front of a classroom filled with eager students, looking to me for guidance, is quite overwhelming. Yet here I am. And so it is.
You accepted this challenge, T. For whatever reason, you’ve been put here. So rock the SHIT out of it!
Hey Life, you’ve thrown me a thousand curveballs before, but I never expected this. So do you think this is where I belong at this stage of my life?
If so, then I’ve got my big girl britches on. I’m ready to ride this wave. Let’s do this. But I won’t lie ~ I’m scared.
Really, really scared.
Yet I will continue to ride the wave. Hanging all 10.
Hope to see you on the other side of the wave, my friends. Namaste.
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