Home » Uncategorized » Come to think of it, I never go gentle into that good night.

Come to think of it, I never go gentle into that good night.

Well, here it is. Opportunity knocking.  More like bull-dozing its way into the vestibule of my mid-life. I’ve started this blog because…. (slight pause for a deep breath)…I’m a writer. Gulp. I said it.  There is a big ol’ hairy back story that explains the phobia of declaring my writing intentions, a back story which will no doubt make a fine appearance in this and future posts.

If the About page doesn’t include enough interesting tidbits about me, the following are probably more revealing:

Katie is–

  • A total basket case….a snapshot of this beauty will come frighteningly into focus in future posts. I have some former students who can testify to my inability to make it through a 45 minute class period without becoming emotional about something. Last night, I pleased myself immensely by sitting through an entire graduation ceremony without boo-hooing. Short lived joy, as it were. I cried as I hugged the graduates afterwards then sobbed in the car on the way home because I miss teaching.
  • Forty-two. I could smack people on Facebook who wish you a happy 40th birthday and then tell you that your 40’s are the best decade ever. Puh-lease.  I have not gone gentle into that good night.
  • Married to the world’s nicest guy–you know, heismrbeasley while also able to claim the username heisreverendbeasley. I could fill a book about marriage, and actually I plan to eventually. But for now, I cannot over emphasize this: I love Todd Beasley. Period.
  • A mom to two beautiful girls, a seven year old and four year old.  The story of how I became a mother is also book worthy.  We’re adoptive parents and are grateful to a wise and sovereign God who chose us to suffer through many, many miscarriages so that we could be Mommy and Daddy to Misses Eden and Emma Kate.
  • A laughter hog…I think the hardest I’ve laughed recently was at a Phineas and Ferb episode.  I’m always disappointed when my daughters opt for Spongebob.  The hardest I’ve ever laughed at a movie was Get Him to the Greek.  There’s a 5 minute scene in that movie that’s a from your gut, belly-bustin’, total bladder failure but you don’t care because there’s always Depends laugh.
  • An aspiring people person…The project for my 30’s was to quit trying to overhaul myself into an extrovert.  Today I can say to my husband with only minimal guilt, “I have to get away from you people before I LOSE WHAT’S LEFT OF MY MIND. “ Insert audio of the ubiquitous Spongebob in the background, and some of you can easily relate.
  • A life-long learner plagued with the I can’t ever finish anything disease—which is closely related to the genetic disorder, perfectionism. Someday, SOMEDAY, I will finish a sewing project, and I pray it’s the heirloom Christmas stockings and matching Christmas tree skirt I’ve started over and over and over and over…
  • A chronic over-extender who can’t multi-task to save a life and for this reason I’m also an–
  • On and off again school teacher. The multi-tasking element of teaching combined with self-deprecation brought on by hyper-perfectionism wears me out a bit—which brings me to my career goals…

I made a momentous decision in January 2011: to leave the teaching profession for GOOD. Of course, with the clumsy grace that only a self-proclaimed basket case possesses, I simultaneously:  A.  ground my 13 year career into a powder for the purpose of ceremoniously tossing it off the proverbial small town Texas overpass,  and  B. clung desperately to my lifetime teacher’s certificate, repeating the not even all that comforting mantra, “I can always come back to teaching.”

One other disclaimer before you read on, I’m a bona fide, card carrying Jesus freak. I know what you’re thinking, but when you read that I’m a Christian, kindly refrain from assuming that I’m religious. I didn’t bring it up to make anyone feel threatened or to resurrect some painful memory where the church deeply wounded you.  I simply believe that someone died so that I could live, and I’ve put my faith in Him for salvation.  Because this blog is all about facing down my fears (i.e. writing for public consumption), my faith is on the table. For instance, I wouldn’t be doing this at all if I hadn’t met Holly. She was my roommate when I ran the Savannah Rock-n-Roll half marathon with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training last November. I’d been praying about how to get started with this new chapter of my life. I didn’t particularly want to share a room with a complete stranger, but she (is awesome, by the way) encouraged me to give blogging a try and also had a number of suggestions for tapping into my creativity. Some would say it was just my good fortune that I met someone who inspired me. Some would say it was coincidence. This Jesus freak says that I prayed some rather desperate prayers for direction and He answered. It’s perfectly okay for us to agree to disagree.

As far as identifying my goals for the future, I don’t even know what to say. It is a lie to say that I don’t feel a tug back toward the classroom, especially after last night. One of the most talented students of my career told me that I was his favorite teacher. I had already given him a hug, congratulated him and told him how proud I was. Ten minutes later as I was leaving, he chased me down to tell me that I was his favorite. Dang it.  I’m tired of rethinking this decision.

One beautiful thing about running everything by God is that the decision isn’t really mine. When He puts me back in the classroom, back to lesson planning I go. For now, I’m sticking with this–

I’m a writer.

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