A change is as good as a...?
Sep. 13th, 2007 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12Okay, I wrote this when I was 15, so it's kind of twee (not to mention badly-written), but it's relevant. I wrote it when I finished being tutored at Kumon
Onwards
After all I have said
I will miss it
The quiet scratching of pencils
Fading echoes of joyful playground laughter
But slowly all my friends gave up, moved on
Saying goodbye again
Again
No more will I sit at my desk in the morning
Listening to the scratching of my pencil
Tasting the taste of intelligent success
And the bitterness of failure
It is my turn to move on...
_____________________________________________________
So why is that schmaltzyness relevant? Well, when I came back to Canberra to work for the newspaper, they initially only gave me two days' work a week, so I got lots of other part-time work. One of the jobs I took was a tutoring job at the same Kumon centre where I had been a student. This meant that I was reviving a connection with the place that stretched back 12 years, to when I was a ten-year-old.
The job was no better, and no worse, than any I've done in my time, but it was fun, and the people were nice to work with. But when the newspaper job became full-time, I had to give it up, although out of guilt I continued to do enrollment nights after work at the newspaper. But Tuesday night was the last of those. Now I truly am finished there. I truly have left, and it feels like severing a connection that had continued, virtually unbroken, for 12 years.
It shouldn't matter, but of course, for me, every stupid thing matters. Every change in my life feels like a loss, a disconnection with who I was, and although I eventually come to accept change, while it's happening I resist it, kicking and screaming and holding on to pieces of furniture...
Maybe one day when I'm old and grey I will have learned how to deal with change, but right now, I'm still in that phase where every change to my life seems...catastrophic...
I guess I should stop worrying and learn to love the catastrophes.
Onwards
After all I have said
I will miss it
The quiet scratching of pencils
Fading echoes of joyful playground laughter
But slowly all my friends gave up, moved on
Saying goodbye again
Again
No more will I sit at my desk in the morning
Listening to the scratching of my pencil
Tasting the taste of intelligent success
And the bitterness of failure
It is my turn to move on...
_____________________________________________________
So why is that schmaltzyness relevant? Well, when I came back to Canberra to work for the newspaper, they initially only gave me two days' work a week, so I got lots of other part-time work. One of the jobs I took was a tutoring job at the same Kumon centre where I had been a student. This meant that I was reviving a connection with the place that stretched back 12 years, to when I was a ten-year-old.
The job was no better, and no worse, than any I've done in my time, but it was fun, and the people were nice to work with. But when the newspaper job became full-time, I had to give it up, although out of guilt I continued to do enrollment nights after work at the newspaper. But Tuesday night was the last of those. Now I truly am finished there. I truly have left, and it feels like severing a connection that had continued, virtually unbroken, for 12 years.
It shouldn't matter, but of course, for me, every stupid thing matters. Every change in my life feels like a loss, a disconnection with who I was, and although I eventually come to accept change, while it's happening I resist it, kicking and screaming and holding on to pieces of furniture...
Maybe one day when I'm old and grey I will have learned how to deal with change, but right now, I'm still in that phase where every change to my life seems...catastrophic...
I guess I should stop worrying and learn to love the catastrophes.
