Ever since I was little, I felt it. There was an inner feeling of knowing what path to choose even when it was the most difficult. I remember trying to explain it to someone as a young girl. I told them that we always know what is right, the answer is within us. I don’t remember how old I was.

This is how I’ve led my life. Amongst all the noise I’ve listened to what I felt. There were times when it comforted me like when I was robbed. The man held me by my neck, told me he had a gun, and I experienced a calm, alert, feeling that everything would be okay. I listened. No one was harmed and from that day on I never opened the door again unless I knew who was on the other side. I also taught that lesson to my children and students.

There was the time I was pregnant and alone with hardly any resources to care for myself. I was young with no college education, an embarrassment to most of my family. I was told to do what I wanted which was code for it was okay to get an abortion. Despite all the reasons for not keeping my child, I knew I was. I felt it. Thank goodness I listened.

Then there was the time I stood on an empty lot and gazed at the trees and the water and felt it again. This was the spot where I wanted to build a house for my family. Sixteen years later I still gaze at the canal and feel the same peace.

The feeling, the one below all the chatter of my mind that lists all the reasons I should or shouldn’t do something when I connect to it it guides me to the right path. Trust is required because often times it’s like leaping  without a net. Scary! It hides deep within and whispers like a single voice surrounded by a shouting crowd. I meditate in order to focus on the whisper.

Lately, with more time on my hands than I’ve known since my teens I find myself waiting sometimes patiently sometimes not so patiently for that voice to guide me again. What’s next? Writing will always be a part of life, but I must live life outside of my office in order to write about it.

I found myself making a list of all the things I enjoy doing, the things that bring me a sense of completeness. I checked off the ones that I did on a daily or weekly basis like writing and running. Then I realized that there were many items on the list I hadn’t done in a long time like going for a walk in the woods or teaching. I felt it again. I needed to get back into a classroom even if only as a substitute. I was brave and entered middle-school. At the end of second period when one of the students came up and hugged me I knew that I had made the right decision. I had listened. I came home with the same feeling of fulfillment I get after writing a chapter, a blog post, or running several miles. I felt a sense of renewal. Being around students whether its teaching or helping out other teachers is part of my purpose. It’s who I am. If I ignore it there’s a piece of me that is missing. It’s as if I’m a puzzle and even though I have half the puzzle complete I still need the other pieces to make up all of who I am. I cannot find those other pieces unless I listen to that whisper that says this is the way….


Comments to "Puzzle Pieces"

  1. Jamie Ayres

    September 7, 2016

    Love this post! Let me know if you ever want to sub for me at Cape High 🙂 I’m teaching 10th grade English and have the best students ever!

    • kdrausin

      September 7, 2016

      Thanks, Jamie! I’d love to sub for you! Just FB message or email me the dates. 🙂

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