Everyday when I arrive on this page the prompt is ‘Start writing.’ Thank you Substack but I don’t need your prompt. I couldn’t NOT write. At the start of each morning, amongst other things, I write (with a fountain pen on paper) my affirmations and one of them is:
I am a writer
And do you know something, I am. I know there will be many nay-sayers out there. I mean, I have got a degree which involved lots of writing, but it isn’t authorering related. I bet some of you haven’t even got that much? Does that mean you can’t say you are a writer? No, absolutely not. Here goes, not only am I a writer but I am a storyteller.
There it is! It is out there. You would have thought today was a pretty special one to get me to this point. It was special because every day when you are Fiftysomething, it is special just being here. It has also been Holocaust Memorial Day and the 80th Anniversary of when Auschwitz was liberated, so I guess that also made the day special, as it reminds us (or it should) that we, as a world, shouldn’t still be doing that sort of stuff anymore to any group of people. “More work needed on this World”, I think?
However, in my little world, it was on the face of it, dull. I did some personal administration, went to the bank, had a dental check up (I will come back to that), headed off for a rushed swim that, in the end didn’t need to be rushed, and then didn’t head off to the course that has now been postponed four times since October because the tutor has personal issues.
Before I examine the tutor issues, I said I would come back to the dentist. I love our new dentist, he literally makes me smile. He describes the whole experience of your check up like he is telling an examiner or tutor what he is doing:
“Come in Mrs Adkins. We are now in this new room which is better than the one upstairs although it is a little smaller. You should now put your things on the chair over there and you will then come an sit on this seat here. I will be moving it back. I am unable to give you the usual tinted glasses that look like sunglasses as my colleagues seem to have taken them all but I will be asking you to wear the clear plastic ones in a moment. Once you are leaning back on the chair I will examine your mouth and teeth and I will check them against the x rays we took last time.”
I won’t give you the whole commentary, and no he doesn’t take a breath, but it continued throughout what was probably the 70th time I have had a check up in my life. For the record, my teeth and mouth are fine.
So what in my dull, Nobody life, triggered me to tell you about the ‘Writer’ thing. I think it was the course being cancelled again. I suspect the tutor keeps finding excuses to cancel because she doesn’t want to do it anymore. This made me think about my motives for writing and teaching. If you don’t have the joy for teaching [or fill in your own creative job] and you no longer need the money, then it is very difficult to get yourself into that classroom. I don’t have a value judgement for that (she probably has good reasons) but if she examines her ‘why’, I suspect she has, at best, had her joy of educating beaten out of her by life.
Now, don’t think I believe that teachers or anyone else that does this sort of thing should do it for free. It is incredibly valuable for society, possibly the most important thing as we move into the age of AI, but the best teachers (again, fill in your own job) couldn’t be stopped teaching even if they weren’t paid. Same with writers, painters etc. We need to do it for joy as well as payment. Without trying, she has taught me a lesson. I don’t want to do anything for money that doesn’t always bring me at least a little joy.
I love teaching, I am a tutor, teacher, educator. Have done it all my life and I do have certificates telling me that I am qualified to do it. However, I know that really good educators, coaches etc don’t need certificates, they need creativity and passion. Above all they need to be storytellers and there I am, back to being a writer.
Creativity will bring me freedom and joy
