Never would I have imagined that, at this age, I would think in terms of semesters. This weekend feels especially open and free because a semester ended Friday. I very much enjoyed the semester but it became hectic the last few weeks as I also had to work on a quilting project for a deadline. The last thing I wanted to do was be a teacher. In fact I resisted persistent advice to get a teaching certificate because it was what young women could depend on back in those days. No thank you! I could depend on my typing skills. I did. I never regretted it.
I find I have teaching in my psyche. In my late 20s I discovered yoga. No one in a hundred mile radius seemed to have heard of it, I began teaching my friends the asanas and breathing techniques I found so helpful. I did not specifically teach anything else until three years ago when I began teaching a writing class because I felt the local Academy for Lifelong Learning lacked a class that taught the skills needed by people who wanted to put their experiences into words. Classes existed that just said, "write and read it in class." No -- that's not helpful enough, I thought. People need to remember, or learn for the first time, basics of interesting writing -- description, active verbs, dialog, and so on. Helping adults write well has been satisfying and fun for me and, they say, for them.
Besides teaching, of course, I am taking classes. I am a gatherer of information and experience. So taking ALL classes have been a joy also. Of course, both teaching and learning I've met many people and made friends. So -- to my surprise, my life is now divided into semesters. I face a summer vacation and feel like the school children I remember -- but better. Because summer used to be a rather lonely time. It is not a lonely time now -- plus I live in a beautiful place that is a vacation destination of thousands -- I have the ocean, the beaches, the flower filled towns and streets every day. Plus uninterrupted days to write or quilt or read a book -- whatever. Wonderful!
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!