My Present Bus
I gave my first workshop for AWiBers just last month. Actually, my first workshop, ever, come to think of it. What an experience! Not only was it fun, but it actually proved to be of some sort of motivating experience for many of those that participated. I realized one thing about myself that I had never thought to reflect about. The fact that I doubt myself so much about what I can achieve if my heart is actually in it; the fact that I don’t believe in my internal assets enough to share it with others. The fact that I am always second thinking myself about what I can contribute. Contribute in the sense of giving back. Giving back doesn’t always have to be handing money to a charity or running a fundraiser for a certain cause, it sometimes can be just giving your time and commitment to others willing to listen and take in whatever it is you think, feel, or believe you have to share. Again, what an amazing experience!
Not only was this one of my first experiences within my AWiB life, but one that reminded me of the other volunteering services I got involved with AWiB this year; my conversational English class. A class I just blindly took full responsibility for because I figured there was no way I could not manage it, yet with no formal educational background to be in such a position. Then again I realized that all that was required of me was the voluntary act of saying, “Yes, I can”. Plain and simple. Obviously something inside me told me to blurt that out, with no thought behind it, because my subconscious self knew I was capable of it. “Yes, I can give such a class, I think I can manage it. Why not?” I said to myself. And seconds later, “Oh no, just what did I sign up for exactly though?” said my mind, when I got a moment to think of what I actually chose to do.
It was very easy to get out of it. The easy way out was to create all sorts of excuses, that I’m sure my fear could have mustered plenty of, if I had put my mind to it. But I thought to myself. If anyone else can do it, then why can’t I? I mean how hard could it be, right? I speak English, it’s my first go-to language – I should be able to give this class. Of course I can. Then your internal acceptance kicks back in, “I guess I am going with this”. Then the day came when our Nahu gave the orientation class to those interested in participating and asked me to introduce myself. I told those present, “Look, I am not an educator of any sort, I have never given a class before, but because its English, and conversational in its nature, I think I can be your instructor. I am not here to give you English grammar presentations, lessons or for that matter, tests, all I will be is available to you, for you to speak to me in English, and I in return, well, will respond and converse with you”.
In that orientation I realized some were expecting a school setting program, a sort of curriculum that required them to bring a notebook and pen, a classroom-textbook type of teaching, and preparedness for some sort of test to gauge progress and understanding. My AWiBers, what I know now is that the universe did not just present this flavorful experience to me for no reason. No, no, the universe doesn’t just do anything without reason; it doesn’t have that kind of time to waste. It presented itself to me to literally find a place that I can comfortably speak in, since writing is my thing, and speaking has yet to be, this was my opportunity to get on the ‘present bus’. The present bus? Yes, AWiBers it’s what I’ve termed for the current situations I’m facing in anything in my life.
If you’ve read my previous blogs, you’ll know that the one thing I was struggling with is accepting constant streams of obstacles being thrown my way with my new job venture. It was as if, nothing wanted to give. On top of that, instead of maturely figuring out how to handle these obstacles, I childishly manifested a complaining attitude, one that I’ve been slowly trying to reverse. And guess what I figured out just recently? Yes, you got it, my present bus. Let me explain.
The first couple of years when I first moved to the states, back when I was just 19 years old. I remember the griping pain of homesickness and I also remember that I would always take long bus rides to and from work, home and school. I had created a comfort in the rides I took. They were my times to write, sketch, listen to music and just stare into space; it stilled my mind and I remember always feeling good when I got on to the bus and just when I got off. I’m not sure if I used the ride to ride out the emotions I was going through or what really. I just know it came to mind now six years later.
So now I find I try to think of myself on a bus headed somewhere when I’m faced with a challenge. I try to simply think, “Alright, this is just the present bus I’m on, let me just ride it till the end, then I’ll hop on the next bus”. Obviously, I don’t want to stay on that one bus, that bus will just rotate back to its starting point, so I picture myself getting off to my next stop, and hoping for the next bus to have a better scenery if I luck out. I know, I know, it may sound, well, a little loony. But just as everyone has their own different ways of dealing with issues, I found my present bus to be my way.