Letting Go

I had a really interesting session with my therapist today. I'm finding that the best sessions, the ones where we get really deep are the ones where I have nothing pressing to talk about. That's what happened today.

Today I realized that I am scared to "let go" of my classroom. It's irrational, as all fears are. I'm scared that if I stop being committed to the Middle School, I will find myself with a void so big and deep that I won't know how to fill it, and since nature abhors a vacuum, it will suck in negative stuff. The facts are these: I've created an amazing program where there was none before. I've spent three years on it. Educating myself, training, negotiating, meeting with people, sourcing, shopping, planning, even designing the classroom space. Everything. Yes, there were others involved - lots of others who made major contributions. No, I did not make all the decisions, or get my way on everything. But it really is my baby. I have to come clean - that's how I feel.

Could I have done it alone? No more than I could make a real baby alone - in fact, less so; I couldn't have come even close to creating something of this quality without the many people who were emotionally and physically committed and involved over the course of 3 years and in 3 countries, as opposed to the two people coming together physically for just a moment to spark the creation of a real baby. But it's still my baby.

In parenting my son, my philosophy has been guided by my instincts and Montessori. I believe in guiding, in pointing the way, in nurturing. I don't believe we as parents have any right to dictate who, how, or what our children should be. Rather, I believe it is our responsibility to make sure they have what they need, to nurture and protect them (to a certain point), and support them in becoming who they are driven to become. Everything I do with my child is guided by these principles. Well, almost everything. I admit, I'm human.

But somehow, with this program, it's like it's my baby, but it's not really mine, so I have to fight to keep it. Again, it's irrational. But I don't want the person who takes over to make changes. I don't want them to run the program any differently than I would. And I want so badly to be there, seeing it grow, learning with my students, and growing it, being part of its development. But I can't. So I'm holding on terribly tightly, emotionally speaking, to each and every tiny little aspect of my vision. And that's not healthy, even if I'm not there.

This program has been my journey and my passion and my objective for so long. It's been my driving force - my one and only pursuit outside my family life. And that, boys and girls, is why workaholism is considered an addiction.

So after this session, after realizing how big a concern this has been for me without it ever having taken centre stage in my consciousness, I feel like I want and need to find a way of letting go - just a little bit. I think it would be very unhealthy to disconnect completely. But it would be nice to trust that, just like my son, the program will take its own course, and change and morph as it grows, and anything else would be un-good.

I haven't figured out how to do that yet. I'll keep you posted.