I want to tell You a story, a story that is stranger than fiction…
Last year, I lost my job because of the project featured on this
blog. I gave a copy of my play to a
colleague who had more experience than me in working with youngsters in the
Performing Arts. I asked her to read it
and give me some feedback after she responded enthusiastically at the news I
was writing about my experience.
The next thing I know, I’m in the head teacher’s office who suspended me
pending an investigation. The latter went on during
the second part of last year, and ended with my dismissal at a disciplinary
hearing. The reason was that I had
breached confidentiality and human rights, although the panel that dismissed me
did not believe I had acted maliciously.
My counselor concluded that writing the play was the way of the
Subconscious Mind trying to prove that I don’t have a language barrier, a statement I was constantly reminded for seven years.
Very recently, I lost another job because the head teacher sent unfair
references to my potential employer.
I’m not prepared to wipe out seven years of my life worked with passion
in a secondary school just because I have made a mistake. I apologised and recognised my
responsibilities. If I made mistakes it
was only out of inexperience and acted to the best of my knowledge. Yes, You
read it correctly… seven years of my life.
I want to share it here because I need to move on – RIGHT NOW!
I’m not sharing this story so that I can take it on someone or point my
finger at others’ insecurities. I’m not
responsible for how others interpret my stories, for what they receive when I
communicate with them, or even for what they think about me. They have to take their own responsibilities.
This ‘incident’, as it has been defined, will not follow me in my
present, will not compromise my reputation, will not change the course of my
ship. I have plans and dreams; that’s
what I must concentrate on, and I feel I need no one’s permission to move on.
After being declined the job because of the references, I still had to
provide for my children so, after a week of despair, I got back on my feet and
– albeit feeling rather wobbly – I found the only job that didn’t require
references… I became, for the first time in my life, a leaflet distributor!
Oh, the joys of distributing leaflets, pamphlets and magazines around an
inhabited place… Firstly, I must
publicly declare that there is quite a satisfaction in inserting something
through a door – I never thought I could feel such fulfillment in my entire
life! Equally, it could be very
frustrating when someone refuses what You’re delivering, or there is NO LETTER
BOX, or there’s a dog silently waiting behind the door for You to stick Your
fingers through the letter box and attacking the leaflet You carefully
delivered with such pleasure!
I’ve been leafleting for 42 days. During the first two weeks I went
around roads and streets crying at my new condition, if it wasn’t for the
beautiful sunshine that forced me to wear sunglasses in an attempt to disguise
my tears, alas unsuccessfully! Then the
victim voice inside of me that constantly enquired about “Why is this happening
to me?” or “I’ll never have my reputation back as it was before!” or even “I’ll
never be able to find a job in my profession ever again!” started dying down,
as my attention happened to focus on the beauty around me.
I was lucky enough to be the only one on the team that liked leafleting
in the villages of Buckinghamshire. There
are some pearls out there, far from the town where I live, gorgeous little gems
where the community spirit is still alive.
I’ve been greeted mostly in a very friendly way; I’ve been asked to hand
out “a couple of leaflets for our next-door neighbours, so You don’t have to go
all the way round there!”; I’ve been thanked from behind doors and windows for
delivering; people even opened their door to thank me! I’ve been even greeted by some animals too,
so I’m posting pictures below.
I smelled all the variety of roses I spotted in every single garden, and
learned that, no matter how much effort You put in making a cottage garden, if
You don’t include lavender, it will never be an authentic English cottage
garden!
I’ve seen beautiful houses and neglected houses. Once, I was passing by a house so neglected that
I had to stop and look at it properly, and decide whether or not I was dropping
a leaflet. A second later, I swore I
spotted the silhouette of a person from behind a window and, while I was trying
to convince myself it wasn’t so, the silhouette waved at me. I waved back in astonishment, thinking the
house was haunted and I had just been waved hello by a ghost. And legged it!
A courier with a sat nav once stopped me asking for directions! Fortunately for him, that was the second time
I was leafleting in that village and already knew it like the palm of my
hand. Many villagers leave kind and
funny messages for postmen and couriers inviting them to leave parcels in boxes
left outside entrance doors. Everybody look after each other.
In some villages, You can get a box of eggs and leave Your money in an
honesty box. The eggs are left outside,
in large containers that bear messages like “Free Range Eggs, box of 6 for £1,
please leave money in little jar”. The
containers are right on the pavement! And
how grateful I’ve been when the village had its own little pub that was open
all day, so I could be blessed with a toilet break!
I’ve been going around villages not carrying a bag across my chest like
the rest of the team, but pulling around a water-proof shopping trolley, one of
those You buy when You stop driving but still have enough energy to walk to the
shops. My beautiful black wheeled
trolley, now parked in my garage! I
bought it after my right hand went under the knife (see previous posts) and I couldn’t drive for six
weeks. It served its purpose brilliantly
on this occasion, although at times it was barked at by dogs walking with their
owners, as they mistook the trolley for my pet!
All of a sudden I realised that I had stopped feeling sorry for myself,
and that I was actually enjoying what I was doing! I no longer felt the victim of my own
circumstances. At some point, there has
been a real shift in consciousness. I
realised that, if I wasn’t going back to work in my profession, it was not
going to be the end of the world after all, because I finally understood that I have many
resources and talents.
I have been blessed with a very hot summer, I guess that helped, so it
really felt like a summer job, a sabbatical, a kind of time-out, definitely a
blessing in disguise – as it proved to be in the end. When You’re stuck in a mental fixation,
You’re not able to see the surroundings, the alternatives.
During this time-out in which I was not engaged in anything in
particular but rather practised (not without struggling) to stay in a neutral
state, I went for an audition, and got a part on a play that is part of a major
project to commemorate WW1 this November.
Needless to say that what I’ve been through sparked more ideas for new
stories, and that I’ve been (and I’m going to be) quite busy for a while
writing them, since I’ve also been invited to join a playwright group, where
artists read each others' scripts and then give each other feedback. What more can I ask for?
This is what I’m going to focus on… my dreams, my
talents, my creativity, because this is what I’ve denied myself for a very long
time: believing that I am not deserving of creating, of daring outside my
comfort zone, of being exactly who I Am… An Artist!
There is a way of writing that is universally accepted as
phenomenological, which is based on how artists experience and interpret the
world around them, but this could be only for a few to know and appreciate. What I want EVERYONE to know,
is that phenomenological writing is my favourite style, and one that characterises my writing since I started at the age of 12.
If my passion looks like over the top to You, it’s none of my
concern. If I appear to You like I’m up myself,
it’s none of my concern either, so please deal with it, because I’m back
stronger than I was one year ago, and growing! I remain open and receptive to all positive criticism and advice.
I want to conclude this post and start a new chapter with two famous
words, very appropriate today, in memory of one of my favourite actors ever:
Carpe Diem!
