Sayonara, Second City!

I was talking to an aquaintance the other day, and found myself light-bulbing over another connection: Buddhism and passages. I know next to nothing about Buddhism, except in this context, and that is that nothing exists for any length of time.

This passage is the completion of the pre-Conservatory levels at Second City. I'd really like a frameable, calligraphic, gold-sealed certificate to hang up right next to my McDonald's Employee of the Month plaque.

Because, honestly, without it, I don't feel as if I've learned anything this past year. It's a bit like trying to judge whether psychotherapy has done you any good because you can't step outside yourself and see the difference.

It has been good for my work - made teaching drama that much easier and more cohesive; seeing as I'm coming at THAT backwards as well. But then again, I'm only teaching one class this year, and our Prima Donna will take over the school play and all the glory anyway. So, you could argue, the tax receipts have proven to be a "good thing".

Yes, it's also been a healthy way to help manage grieving my Mom: I do wish she could have seen our final show, but I think she would have simply said:

"Very nice dear, but weren't you supposed to be doing your artwork?"

I wanted to prove to myself that I could be creative in different ways. I can play the piano from my heart; write to make you laugh; think on my feet in a classroom; and revel in the lights. And each time, I have to remind myself - don't get addicted to this, you don't have to do this perfectly, you don't have to 'marry' the craft - you need to get back to where you ought to be - making images.

My heart hurts for my classmates who took these sessions because that's where they want to make their mark; and found themselves on the sadder side of auditions. I hope they take this as a minor setback, and build their strengths for the next ones. My heart cheers for the one classmate who did make passage to the next level...subtly, without knowing why, I knew she'd be on her way.

I won't miss the high-pitched screeching or the bedroom humour of the newly young "adults". I won't miss the "NO, because I like saying No". I won't miss the $250 every six weeks. I will be able to go away on weekends. I will miss the time and conversation with Tim; but then he's got to do the good husband/Daddy thing anyway. I will miss the energy and focus. I'll miss thinking, every week, how much the isntructor can look like my brother.

I DO have to say goodbye. Administration offers extended classes ONLY on weeknights. It's not worth (to me) the two hour commute in winter weather; or the coin. As much as it saddens me to say "farewell", it is with joy that I anticipate the next adventure.