I was at Staples the other day, and I saw that there were a bunch of people in there buying school supplies. Suddenly, my body ached like it used to in my early thirties when it wanted a baby. A voice appeared, “I want to go back to school. I want to surrender myself to a new semester, a new pile of books, new teachers, promise of new ideas and directions for my mind.”
School for me was easy. I loved it. It had boundaries, expectations and rewards that worked for my own particular neurosis – intellectual people pleasing. School made me feel in control of the universe. I knew what it wanted from me, and I knew how to give it. Black and white. Information in, and analysis and information out. Pure bliss.
This fall I am not going back to school. Well, at least not that kind of school. I am jumping into making a documentary, and there certainly is a lot for me to learn. But there is no ONE set of parameters, or rules or hoops to jump through. It is all a bit gray and murky – tone, visual look, approach – no where is there a syllabus telling me how to get an “A” or what is expected of me in my final paper. I am on my own here. Just me and my subject (the American Dream) dancing by ourselves as amazing people and opportunities gather around me to support my journey.
I feel a bit like Frodo. I have a mission and I’m not sure that I am up for it. But I know that I must keep marching forward because no matter what I know that it must happen. I have surrendered myself to something bigger than me, and I feel like I have been chosen.
Now that I have heard the call, maybe I need to go back to Staples and get myself a new notebook, some paper and really cool pens. I have a feeling that new teachers, ideas, directions and books are in my future. I think the real education of Kelly has just begun.
Dream on,
Kelly