“And my teachers were very good. They were friendly with me. My English teacher Simon he was very strong. But he was bald. I thinked he is lived in Shaolin Temple for long times. I like my teachers”.

David 11 year old Chinese student

Part of my time away was spent at a boarding school in Suffolk. This was my very first gig as an English Language teacher. I had wanted this experience months before when  I first heard about residential summer school - it appealed to me as a rite of initiation. And when the time came I was suitably filled with trepidation, which wasn’t eased when Cari pulled into the school.  The Royal Hospital School is a grand place, huge, overbearing almost, set in 200 acres with a beautiful view of the estuary; this is a true boarding school in every traditional British sense of the word.  It was an impressive site/sight, and quite a meditative paradise for the first 1/2 day … before the kids turned up.

First off, coach after coach from identically dressed students from China, via Bath.  200+ Chinese students who marched their way around the parade ground each morning, did extra study before classes and fell asleep late in the afternoon classes.  By the end of the 5 weeks, having taught cohorts of Spanish, French, Arabs and a smattering of Israelis (not together luckily), we the teachers were wishing for the return of the Chinese. At the time of teaching then we did not fully appreciate their disciplined nature, politeness,  motivation and willingness to learn.

It was a roller-coaster ride, one that reminded me of the ten day Buddhist retreats I have experienced / endured. Some days, some teaching sessions were magic, fun, exciting and I really felt like maybe, just maybe I knew what I was doing. Other days, other sessions, sometimes following immediately on from one of those moment of self-glorification were disastrous, devastatingly slow, bumbling, bungled and draining. A roller-coaster ride then; a box of chocolates from which we never ever knew what we would get next.

Luckily we were all in it together. That sense of a common experience, perhaps as much as the brutal but beneficial introduction to teaching English that this was, was the biggest gift that came from these five weeks. While I was experiencing  a confusion of highs and lows at least I came to know that I was not alone. All the other teachers, both those that had been here before and those that hadn’t were having the same bumpy ride.

As for my fellow teachers? Well it’s a young persons’ game. The average age of a residential summer school teacher, from my experience, seems to be about 24. And the average hour they finally get to bed, on any night of the week, seems to be about 2.00am. They drunk a lot, got high a lot, and generally had a shitload of fun. And then there they were  – ready for their first class, first thing in the morning.

Luckily for me by the time I got to the Royal Hospital I was not only 51, but I was flat broke. Otherwise I may have been tempted, in fact I pretty sure I would’ve been. As it was I was struggling most nights to rustle up enough money for a pint. On top of that much of my very valuable coin was going on painkillers -  I was knocking back 2 or 3 pretty much every 4 hours. I was living with a wisdom tooth that needed extraction, and I was waiting for a hospital appointment, one that I had postponed when I had heard I had got this five week gig. 

On the weekends I managed to get away. The weather was, except for maybe 2 or 3 days, glorious, and I made the most of it. I had taken a couple of ordinance maps with me which I used to full advantage, mapping out 8 – 15 mile walks around the surrounding area. This is glorious countryside  -  and once again I felt that surging joy that I get from following public footpaths through glen and dale, orchard and forest, farm and village, open land and country lane. I loved those days that I was up at 6.00am and out walking by half past, not returning til late in the evening.

I also loved the alternate weekends which I got to spend with Cari. Being back in the UK, and then soon after being away from her only confirmed even more the rightness of my decision to return here from NZ. We love and support each other so so well, and I have come to realise that in all that I do, in all that I am, she is the one that I hold close. She is the one who knows who I am, and with whom I can be all that I am. So the couple of moments we got to share together were very special. One involved a weekend in Norfolk, the other was my surprise visit to London which mostly involved some quiet time and us sitting and watching our veges grow at our little allotment. But that my friends is another story…

x bhavatu sabbe mangalum x

I woke in the night and looked across at Cari asleep beside me. Reached down and touched her hand. Closed my eyes and listened to her breath. I awoke early this morning knowing I am where I am meant to be. I do not feel different, I am different. I am relaxed and reassured.

I am close to a source of happiness and trust. I lie next to a spring from which as I inhale I drink long and deep. Within only days of returning here I feel that calming and rejuvinating elixir coursing through my being.

How to explain it? Love obviously. This modest and humble woman wraps herself around me, envelopes me in a shawl of light and love, and sets me free from all my fears. She is the word. She is all that I believe in, all I aspire to, all I want for myself and all those I love.

She makes it real, makes it safe.

Safe to be myself – all that I am and all that I believe I am not.

x bhavatu sabbe mangalum x

The beat goes on …

For the first time in the last 14 days or so, the CELTA course is no longer the most important thing in my life. The course has become the stage rather than the plot. And on that stage I am struggling not to be in turmoil over Cari and I.  And it is a very real struggle though I guess being so far away from her helps -  I am able, for moments at a time,  to shut down. Not healthy I know and  yet there seems little else for me to do.

For this to have happened now, literally only hours away from me clicking online to confirm my ticket back to Cari, back to the UK is of course, no accident. Everything is as it is, everything happens when it does because that is exactly when it is meant to happen (obviously!) So I can’t just put this whole debacle aside and go on as before, as much as part of me may want to.

Over the next 6 days (8 if we count the weekend) the stage is set, the props are in place, and I have my role to play. I know what marks to hit, where to be and when to be there. I will turn up and play my part. That is all well and good, it is my mind that is now without a script – it roams unfettered, directionless. Over the next 6/8 days it will settle somewhere, I will just try and trust that.

It is as if I have no personal interest, no self investment anymore – where I land is where I land. Right now I really don’t care. I am just grateful I have role to play, a part to perform, a stage upon which to act,  for the next 6/8 days.

Ain’t life wonderful?

It’s always able to inject some mystery, some change, som uncertainty at any moment.  Ain’t life just grand!

x bhavatu sabbe mangalum x

Scrambled through yesterday. Submitted my (very) last minute assignment and did my TP. Got the assignment back at the end of the day and was told I needed to rewrite some of it. I wasn’t surprised at all – it was a very last minute affair. This is how I’m doing the course – very last minute – typically I’m finalising my lesson plan and organising the materials for my lesson only minutes before students start arriving.

As I’m an early morning (rather than night) person it has become the norm for me to rise before 5 and complete work  in the early hours on assignments and lessons for the day ahead. The last assignment was a bit extreme in that I didn’t realise it was due until the night before so I wasn’t completing work on it the following morning I was starting work on it. So I’m quite happy to resubmit -  hopefully it is good enough now to warrant a pass. I think maybe next weekend (that last of the course – yehaaa!) I’ll find some sanctuary somewhere condusive to study (e.g.  a little local library) and make a concerted effort to get the bulk of the remaining assignments done (well that’s the plan anyway – ha).

I still haven’t booked my ticket but I’m confident I will in the next few days. I have concerns for Tobias and Kate and Buka – all of them intricately linked together – a change in the circumstances of one effects all and I feel love and some responsibility towards them all. That said I know my primary responsibility is to myself. To follow my heart and in doing so trust that those that I love and care about will be ok. Those that love me want this from me, although in certain moments I know this can be a difficult thing to accept.

I am so indebted to Kate.  Jokingly the other night we made mention of my acceptance speech when I finally get my teaching certificate, and that I should make sure I thank all at 1/160 Mt Smart Road for the not inconsiderable part they have played in helping me achieve my goal.  All joking aside, I literally couldn’t have done this, I could not be doing this without the support of Tobias and Kate.

Once again Kate you have shown, in the most humble and modest of ways, your true colours. And what colours they are. You are, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the most generous, caring and considerate people I know. Yours is a remarkable way of being – you give so unconditionally and in such an unassuming way that the depth and breadth of your friendship often goes unnoticed. Not so now, not so for me. I am indebted to you in the best way possible. I am indebted for so much, in so many ways. Perhaps more than anyone else, you have through your way of being, defined for me the meaning of friendship.

Thank you so much for all you do, for all you are.

You are a very special person. I am blessed to be your friend.

May all that you dream come true for you are most deserving my friend. May you always be blessed. May you always be happy. May you always share in my dharma x

x bhavatu sabbe mangalum x

The last 3 days have passed without comment.  On Friday we were let out / let off early, around mid afternoon. The others stayed and did prep work for the following week. I didn’t. I felt tired and disinterested and took myself home to complete another job application, this one for a teaching position in the UK.  After that I hung out with the weekend and we didn’t do too much studywise.

It may have been wise for me to have done something as I realised just before lights out last night that the 2nd assignment is due today. Doh! So it was a 3.45 start this morning and I’m about 3/4 done. I’ll complete the rest today some time – as well as completing my lesson plan (LP) and preparation for today’s lesson. Ah yes, back into it. I am pleased there are only 9 days to go -  I know I will make it, all I have to do is hang in there!!

And after the 9 days? The plans remain a little roller-coaster, though it does feel as if the ride is losing a little momentum; I forsee no further big dips and dives in the future.  After talking with Cari I am now fairly certain of my return to the UK soon after I complete the course. I think this week I will book my plane ticket, a step that will collapse a raft of potential realities and make my future a little less ambiguous.

Tobias finishes work this coming Friday – this is something that creates some uncertainty for me. It seems ironic that it was his phonecall that triggered within me my desire to return here – to reassure myself that he was ok.  And I was reassured within hours of arriving, and yet now, as I contemplate my departure, I am less so…

x bhavatu sabbe mangalum x