Free Time

I've only been out of school for 16 days and I'm already getting bored with all of my free time. I keep telling myself, "Use this time to write. Work on your fiction writing or send out some devotions for publication," but instead I get on the computer, click on Plants Vs. Zombies, and waste hours of my life. I need to write more and I'm hoping to use this blog to just get myself in the habit of that. Some of my most fulfilling moments are when I write something I'm actually proud of calling my own. But how can I do that if I don't actually WRITE? Ah, good questions...actually, they're pretty basic ones, but still good to ask.
I also want to read more. I'm in the middle of Dracula and it's amazing, but for some reason, it's taking me forever to get through. I don't know why I waste so much time when I can use it for reading, writing, or just something generally edifying. Basically, I want to enhance my creativity and ability to express myself through writing. It's hard, though, when I have no overall "message" that I feel I need to convey.
But I'll try to at least start the creative renewal process. Mostly, I think it will just be trying to write more than just in my journal every day.

May Already?

I've been debating about a lot of things lately...mostly regarding how I'm spending my time and money. Am I working at the right jobs? Am I living where I should be? Do I waste too much time where I could be writing more or planning ahead? Even though I know I'm doing a lot it still feels as if I'm wasting time. I want to do a lot with my life, but rarely feel like I know what I should be doing.
I think the problem is that I'm always anxious that something will go wrong, that I'll somehow mess up. I just never know if I'm making the right decisions. And even when I do make the right decisions, I worry that things will still go wrong anyway. I guess I really just need to trust God more. A lot of my anxiety stems from my lack of trust, I think. Because, really, if I can trust that God loves me and will provide for me, I just need to follow Him and all will fall into place. What's weird is that my head knows that I can put my trust in Him, but my heart doesn't feel it.
But I'll keep praying for God to help me make my decisions because, surely, these won't be the last of them!

A Day in February

I've been thinking a lot about what makes a life worthwhile. I think I've been struggling with this idea for several years, actually. I know; our worth isn't supposed to depend on our works, but really, wouldn't that make sense? Would someone who is dedicating their life to, say, building schools in poor and neglected neighborhoods have a more worthwhile life than someone who sits all day in their living room, watching "Family Guy"? And, really, there's all kinds of ways that we can do "worthwhile" things, but then I start to wonder, "which is the MOST worthwhile?" Basically, what sets apart my life from the billions of other lives existing around me?
Obviously, there's no real answer. I just never feel like I'm quite doing enough. Maybe my attitude's not in the right place; maybe I do too much and miss out on the reason behind it all; or maybe I just like confusing myself. All seem plausible right now. I really just don't want to be stagnant, working towards some idea of a "worthy" life and finding out that it's all just been without a point. And, really, I like where I am in life; I just feel too rooted and, somehow, inactive. Maybe I've just been in Fort Wayne too long. That could very well be the problem.

Murder by written discourse

Blech. "Written discourse." I think I've written this phrase about 2,000 so far this semester. I love being in IPFW's English program, I really do, but sometimes I find myself writing certain terms or phrases that are just so irritating. I'll stop and go, "Where did that come from?" Like, I swear to everything, I once wrote, "elaborate, yet achievable, insights into the views of written discourse in rhetorical academia." WHAT?
But, again, I really do love the program here. We're going through Great Expectations in Victorian Literature and that's always fun, hearing different interpretations of books that I actually enjoy reading. And Native American Literature is fascinating. I highly recommend Winter in the Blood by James Welch. Rarely do I think about the lives of modern Native Americans or the lingering oppression that is forced upon them.
Anyway, this is a random update after a large gap of not updating this blog. But besides feeling like an occasional English tool, life is pretty good right now. I'd say "great," but I'm afraid that if I use a stronger word that "good," I'll jinx myself. So, I'll just say that I'm good...er, well.
As for teaching, I'm still not feeling like I'm Hilary Swanks's character from Freedom Writers, but I'm definitely getting more of the hang of things. I might even be enjoying it in some ways, imagine that. While there are many students who I'm sure give little to no crap about the class, there are a few who I feel are actually benefitting from something. And I'm not sure if it's necessarily just in writing. I have assignments where students do "freewriting" journals and one students told me how much of a stress-reliever it is, knowing that she can safely write about all of her stresses and worries, and actually have someone read about them. There are just little examples like this that encourage me and make me hope that there's something worthwhile they'll take out of the class.
Hmmm...I'm pretty happy and content right now, despite the mounting schoolwork and worries over teaching.

Teaching

So, as most of you know, I'm teaching a freshman composition class. To say the least, I've mostly been winging it since the beginning, which was about three weeks ago. It's weird, but even though I'm definitely more confident in class, not feeling the need to throw up every time I look a student in the eye or spew out a sentence, I still don't feel like a teacher. I'm not sure if I'm actually helping anyone learn anything.
But then I have a random moment or two where I think, "Ok, maybe something is going on under the surface." For instance, today I just introduced our second paper for the semester: a profile. This is basically where each student finds something interesting about a person, place, or event, and writes a 3-page profile on it. I passed out the paper's guidelines and a few people had questions on format and page length, but soon I moved on to the dreary task of talking for the rest of class. After class, two students came up to ask what I thought about possible topics for their profile. I don't know, it wasn't big or anything, no bright light from heaven saying, "Here's your affirmation," but there was something in the way these two girls talked about their topics that made me feel as if this assignment actually meant something. Maybe not much, but at least something.
I just wish I had more to go on then brief moments like that. Not like I expected a Dead Poet's Society to be formed (even though that would be sweet), but maybe just some sense of purpose behind this whole class.

News that will change your life.

Here it is: news that will forever alter how you live and achieve: Taco Bell has a new, diet-friendly menu. I'm now eating two fresco soft tacos for well under the reasonable calorie-intake limit for lunchtime meals. Taco Bell, you have surpassed my expectations, which was, granted, not very high to begin with.

Starting Out

Ok ok ok, I finally caved and started a blog. I guess that makes me only several years behind the times. Most people reading this probably know me pretty well, but for the rest, "Hi, I'm Heather Schultz...and you are?" *shakes hands*
I'm not sure why I decided to start a blog or if I'll keep it up. I tend to prefer writing by hand...it just seems more personal, you know? That, and I like to underline words for emphasize, so now I have to take the time to italicize the words I want to stand out. But, on the other hand (no pun futurely intended), this gives me less writer's cramp. But with writing by hand, it's also comforting when you have direct control over who reads what you write...but now I'm slipping into second person and that doesn't work well for a blog, does it? Dang it.
Well, now that I'm thinking about it, I think I started a blog because I want people to read something I've written instead of keeping it all to myself. Maybe it's a way for me to open up a little more, I don't know. It's so easy to write out haphazard thoughts, uncaring of their weight or implications, when you know no one will read them...but now I actually have to consider what I'm saying, if I'm even really saying anything.
Anyway, it's been a pretty tough week for me. My grandma Schultz passed away on Monday and suddenly I'm faced with that terrible notion of mortality. I hate mortality. It freaks me out. Sure, I know everyone must die, but I don't like remembering that I know it. It's so much easier to just forget until it happens to someone else. I hate that I'm going to die and afraid I will have countless regrets when I do. I keep wondering if gramma had any regrets. Somehow, I don't think she did, or maybe that just me trying to grasp for a comforting thought. But, really, I don't. I know she missed grampa terribly, but I wouldn't consider that a regret.
But I think that's why I'm so eager to get as much accomplished as possible right now. I want to do and see everyone that I can and never to look back on my life with reeeegreeeets. But, then again, I don't want to rush through my life, losing my appreciation for the simpler things. Like when the leaves change in autumn, or driving through a part of town I've never really noticed before. I don't want to get so lost in the rush of "am I doing as much as I could be?" and, instead, be pleased by what I do have.
So, as usual, I'm reminding myself, "Take a deep breath, spaz, and remember that you are so blessed."