With new power comes new hope of achieving. With hope comes trying new things. With new endeavors comes new failures. With new failures comes dashing and smashing of hope. Its a vicious cycle. One I knew well. But each round brought new heights, which meant farther to fall.
I had to take a cooking class. I had struggled in one in Junior high. It was the same old story, give me a recipe and I would read it over and over, and never be able to remember it. I would look at it a half dozen times for each new ingredient it called for, each new action it called for. But the class went to fast for such careful consideration. So I had to guess, and guess wrong most of the time. The anxiety was unbearable. It seemed the simpler things were for others the harder it was for me. And the harder for others the simpler for me if it was in the realm of thinking.
But it was not the cooking that tortured me the most. It was the teacher. She was a professional looking person with decisive actions. She had a heart but was driven more by her ability to demand respect from others. That air of 'respect me' and do as I say. Well, I could not do much of anything she wanted. But I wanted her to like and respect me. I wanted to do it. But she gave no slack. I can not remember what I did or did not do but I was marched down the hall. I will never forget the humiliation of the silence, she never uttered a word. I so wanted to show her respect but did not know how. Maybe it was her silence and the power of her gait. I wanted to be like her.
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