“Send me your best work,” he says—like my best work can be caught and held captive on a page! If I made a list of my strengths, “words” would be at the bottom. I rarely even think in words; I think in soaring whistles and dreamy vistas and pokey thorns. Sounds panoramic, but really it’s more like being stuck in a microwave.
“Send me your best work,” he said! My thoughts flit and fight against the bars of grammar and Google. They beat against my skull and spirit in rage, alternately spitting and singing to me. The thoughts rattle battle rattle in listless frustration. Listen! I have no “best work” to give you!
My best lies in heaps behind me, or runs ahead of me, or twirls circles around me! Listen!
The system is broken! This one cries on the way to work.
There’s not enough time, never enough time, no time! That one shrieks when I sign in
underFUNDED! It groans when I open the envelope
you might as well rage against the sea! whispers something from the back.
It is time to wake up.
I have no use for these voices; they add nothing. Time-thieves! Peace-stealers!
Shut up, I say. Sit down and be still. You are disrupting the room; be gone!
I find my key and the light, pour my coffee, and breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Focus. Fear is the mind-killer. Doubt comes from fear. Hate comes from fear. Anger and malaise come from fear. I have no room for these things. I riffle through the folders of my mind, looking for my rules. Where are my rules? Coffee. Password. Pen. Check the to-do list. Sub-routine is running in my head: find my rules [run the program]. Sip. Turn the projector on.
There they are!—there’s the first rule: LOVE.
It climbs and clambers over me like a sentient blanket. LOVE. I love myself, I love the humans—especially the crumpled ones—I love the earth and the air and the silky smooth pen I am using, I love my favorite boots, I love my cold black coffee [like your heart that other voice shouts].
But that voice is far away. I smile; it is too late now, silly fearful voice [shush I say]; I have remembered who I am and why I am here.
I am here to teach; I am here to love them; I am here to teach them to love themselves. A hundred times a week I greet them and see them and blow gently on their ideas, fan the flames and praise them and gently prod them into place. I love you; I love all the humans, I am broken but still I love—see me love you, can love—love yourself, all will be OK.
“Send me your best work,”, he said! He does not understand; my best leaps behind me, or runs ahead of me, or twirls circles around me!
Listen!
All of them are so beautiful! this one sighs when the bell rings
They stopped to say hello! that one sings
I never thought of it that way! it crows when I read a response
You make a difference, whispers a human from the back