There is a poem waiting to be written
It says,
You are enough.
In the quiet moments
when you can’t feel your students,
see their eyes, sense their energy.
Doubt comes in.
(Should I even write?
Or rather find the words of other, greater poets
to tell us that we can only do so much?)It’s so easy to compare and despair.
The end of the day comes
and perhaps I’ve worked all day,
or sometimes cried in the bathtub.
But still, I’d like to say
that we are enough.
Our best is all we have to offer,
and sometimes our best looks like tears.
So now I stand up
and search for the next, right thing.
Making the bed and checking the email.
Missing my students and the music we make.
Reminding myself that for now,
I am enough.