I clocked 4 straight hours of teaching today!
I was worried the entire week that I wouldn’t be able to last the marathon teaching, but I managed to clock in these hours teaching four different types of classes today. These included classes that I wasn’t confident in like BARE and Slider & Tubing.
I revised the night before, and then again in the morning and I felt that helped tremendously. I hope the students enjoyed the class because contrary to what I thought about attending BARE classes, I quite enjoyed teaching it.
Roller & Ball at 9am happened first. I’m getting a lot more comfortable with Roller & Ball so it’s getting more fun to teach. There was a student who previously came up to me and said that I had improved in my teaching, and thanked me for improving (!) You’re welcome, of course! I hope to keep improving!
Today, she told me that she enjoyed my class so much that it passed super quickly without her realising it. I feel so blessed to have students like that who affirm my teaching. Truly. It’s hard to know if students are enjoying class or not sometimes. Some grunts of pain, some peals of laughter. Maybe a slight increase in class size or having the same familiar faces in a class can signal that but otherwise, it’s not an obvious path of improvement.
Also grateful to have an incredibly encouraging Clifton Sim – who (at most times) drives me to the studio in the morning and then spends an obscene amount of time in the gym on his own to pass time.
Thanks for always pushing me harder and telling me to take up that extra class tomorrow morning to continue harvesting experience. But WHY do I have to wake up early again tomorrow?!
(Shout out to the Honey Lime Tea I bought at Fun Toast that helped me survive the consecutive hours of teaching. What a great decision and a good use of $2.40.)
I like smiling to myself when I read your messages, knowing that you’re smiling to yourself too.
I felt incredibly lonely today. You just brushed me aside when I called out to you for help. Did you think I was joking? Was I being needy? I must stop going to you for help then. I feel really really sad now. I’m sorry if I was being a pain.
I get chills thinking about how things were so different before. The many people I’ve loved, who are now no longer even in my life.
Except through the damned social networks, as I see your face in the photos and get struck with familiarity, then a bout of sadness at how foreign your life looks to me now.
There is some despair when I think about how I knew this day would come. I remember predicting this. I remember thinking how one day I wouldn’t know you anymore.
In the end, I guess it’s not the end of the world, my days are going well and my life is good. I just miss having you around sometimes.
There’s an invisible thread running through us. A huge invisible ribbon ties us together. We’re not the same person, but we’re always parallel. Not the same soul, but somehow linked. Weird, how we become an entity. Weird, how people expect the connection.
But how easy it would be for either to leave, to break the association. Imagine a break so clean and so swift that leaves nobody behind. So smooth and peaceful that nobody cares. Not even the other person, who moves on, like the connection never happened. Like the thread dissolved into nothing. The thread that was invisible in the first place.
How odd it was to be so honest with a stranger. But I remember thinking how comfortable I felt, how pleasant it was just talking to you. I remember then thinking that it was such a shame that you had a girlfriend. Strange to think that there was once a time, just a couple of months ago, when we were both unfamiliar.
You were adorable and I had a crush on you. Your old fashioned dates were lovely and sweet. Your text messages drew smiles on my lips. I remember being in bed, smiling because I knew you. I remember how I felt like I was living in a love song, like things were starting to come together, like serendipity.
Thank you for being you, thanks for being 29 years old and you. Thanks for being crazy and childish and annoying and lame. Thanks for being a sensitive new age guy, thanks for being you. Thanks for being affectionate and adoring and cute. Thanks again for being you.
“Don’t wish me happiness — I don’t expect to be happy; It’s gotten beyond that, somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor — I will need them all.”
— Anne Morrow Lindbergh
It’s a lovely time right now in my life. I know better than to believe in fairytales and happy endings, in fairy godmothers and love at first sight and even (gasp) an exciting career path – but it sure feels like anything’s possible right now.
Too much expectation again, but let me just revel in the possibilities. I’m amazed at my life thus far; at how things seem to fall into place, and how things seem to fit snugly and comfortably leading to this moment, leading to the now.
I just need to believe. I need courage and bravery, and a sense of humour for the downtimes.
God help me. My future is looking pretty lovely right now and I don’t want to wake up.
You know what would be perfect? Traveling around the world, going on roadtrips and concerts and doing it all with someone lovely for the rest of my life.
2011 was the year that Death came to warn us. It was the year you fell ill, my strong pillar of support, my luckless keeper. Finding out about it felt surreal. Too dramatic, and too scary. I tried not to beg in my prayers, I made no bargains with God. I only prayed for it to disappear. You were strong even then. I felt alone in my misery and helplessness, but you fought bravely and never showed your pain. None of us could imagine life without you, and we will live in fear everyday of losing you.
2011 was also the year I lost my best friend. It was the year we realised our differences, and the year you finally walked out on me. I would eventually come to thank you, for everything you’ve ever done, but the sadness washes over me when I remember how things used to be, when I remember the plans and promises that never followed through.
2011 was the year that went by too fast. It was the year I graduated from university, although I hardly remember doing anything worth noting, and I hardly remember feeling anything but loneliness.