The grey is back. It’s the backdrop I need for my waiting to hit the stage of my own classroom tonight. I’m teaching adults for the first time. A few adults. I’m leaving out the words only or just even as I hear them in my head. But it’s powerful, deciding to show up for whatever happens and to not call it failure.

When I made a marketing flyer for my class I was so proud. I did it! The people would come! I built the container: a flyer. My flock would find me.

My flock for now is a few. Goodness that sounds egotistical, the idea of having a flock.

It’s not. I sit here waiting for tonight knowing I am a teacher at heart. A teacher who believes in a tiny perch that I step off of to meet my classmates in wordplay.

I was worried no one would sign up. I mean, really, truthfully, I felt sick was no one signed up once my flyer arrived on the scene. Cue goal setting at a retreat. Goal: to go play no matter what. To ask two friends to come if they can. Two friends are coming to my classes over the next three weeks. What a safe and gorgeous space: teaching to friends.

I’ve been teaching for years. To kids. Some days it’s hard. Some days it’s bliss. Some days it is in-between.

So I’m glad to start this new path, no matter how long it lasts.

Part of me thinks this is all part of me growing a space for myself to play with others. Others being whoever shows up. There’s this quote that whomever shows up works, that these people are for you. It’s a poetic quote by Anne Lamott. But I think about it a lot. Lose a friend? There’s a world of people out there. Not to replace them, but to be people in our lives.

I’m a people lover. I am glad to gather with some people tonight to play with words. I am diving in with as much joy as I can muster. I’ve rode waves of fear ever since I decided to do this. Now I’m turning my face to the grey sky. I’m ready to begin a new endeavor.