I've been focusing on the positive, the good aspects of this life I now lead on the opposite side of the planet and the new work that accompanies it. This is my first "real" job. As an actor/teaching artist work was sporadic with prolific times of long hours and great progress going hand in hand with times of complete stasis. There is a consistency here that I am unaccustomed to, a daily routine, a rigidity that I often push against. The incredible director Anne Bogart writes that only within the container can we find freedom (while she speaks mainly of the actor/director and the necessity for setting choices into place when rehearsing, I find her words extend beyond the world of the theatre). This is my container right now, my boundaries are set from 7:30am to 3:30pm - but within the confines of classroom walls, attendence lists, ringing bells, and curriculum goals, I may have the opportunity to experience unparalleled freedom. My work here is to ignite imagination, to transform the space each class inhabits so that the "math room" may simultaneously be a courtroom, a palace, a bedroom, a kitchen, a forest, a ship, a club, a bar, a living room, a rocket to the moon... My own imagination thrives in that liminal state, betwist and between reality and fantasy such that the line blurs between the two. I can only hope my passion is infectious, that some of these students walk away changed, with a greater perspective and a child-like sense of wonder when encountering the world. Perhaps these are grand aspirations. But, as Marianne Williamson says:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?

So, who am I not to be? Who are you not to be?

Post Spring Break

I won't lie, say it isn't hard to leave behind everyone you love, the warmth of heart, the smell of home, the familiarity of those who love you for who you are, not what you do. The return is never gentle, the plane slammed down onto the Entebbe runway with unnatural force, wheels screaming, "Wake up! This is now! This is your life!" Jet lag kept me in a zombie state for the past few days, but slowly the coma confusing past and present is fading and this reality is coming into focus. It is not perfect. It is not ideal. But it is what is. For this moment I am a teacher. I'm breathing into the role: looking for the ways it might ignite my imagination, trying not to take anything too personally, and working with the mind that resists and reaches into the future. There is nothing simple about this work, each moment brings new challenges, new triumphs and new mistakes. The line is hard to draw, especially in terms of discipline. When does exuberant enthusiasm become hyperactive distraction? The choices are endless, some succeed and some fail. I'm learning. For now, I will rest in the present, here in the computer lab with the fan blowing and the birds chirping and the sky growing grey with storm clouds as I write to all of you.