Big Steps, Little Steps

A few days ago I went to the McGill University bookstore, venturing down into the bowels where the textbooks are stacked in unimaginative towers by course number and professor. Slowly, I perused the labyrinth in search of the Faculty of Education. While I'm still a few years away from being able to do my Masters in Education I thought I'd buy a little pre-reading. When I finally got to the appropriate stacks I was promptly overwhelmed. Where to begin? It's a feeling I've come to know all too well. I had it back at age 18 when I started physiotherapy school, and again a decade or so later when Emma the Brave came on to the scene. It's amazing--despite all I've been able to accomplish in my life I can still experience a feeling akin to jumping into an Ontario lake in January at the mere thought of personal challenge. It's nearly paralytic. I left the stacks empty handed and somewhat defeated. Was I up to this?

It's been a few days now and I'm feeling better. I'm considering going back and buying a book on classroom management. Maybe. Part of me feels it's too soon, that I should keep my focus on writing and not dilute my efforts. Finding a publisher for the novel will be a monumental task in itself. And when else will I have time to market Gone and write something new like I will this coming year? Certainly not during graduate school. Ah, the petty stresses of an otherwise peaceful and blessed life. The things we do to ourselves...

As we're coming to the end of our 'home leave' in Canada, the draw of our real home is getting perceptibly stronger. I miss my dog, my friends,my stuff--even the bloody hamster. I love Canada, but Switzerland is where we belong right now. A few more Montreal-style bagels and I'll be good for another year of pain de campagne. It's a sacrifice, I know, but one I'll make gladly.