On my first week teaching-

Like a rushing wind came this first week of teaching. There's something about standing in front of a crowd of people who expect to learn from you. In their eyes lives a hunger to be made better, and you see that. You see the hunger and you can only hope to impart something of value, to not just fill the space, but to make their time worthwhile. As someone who holds on to time fiercely, in all of its teasing and fleeting, I understand teaching isn't just another job. It is quite possibly the most courageous of endeavors. Though there are massive failures, there are also enormous feats. I had a lot of the former in my first week. Then there were those moments of pure ingenuity, where you surprise yourself by a capacity to do something for the first time and succeed--what a perfect feeling!

I taught advanced students this week, crafted four lesson plans, and got the chance to teach one of my favourite poems. I also discovered my phobia for teaching grammar. It's an odd kind of fear, but it is comforting to know most of my classmates share it. Needless to say, teaching grammar was one of my massive failures, but my students, they were a dream. So many personalities, and so much knowledge. I am humbled, so incredibly inspired.

 Vitkov Hill.

After an extremely long week of classes and teaching, I explored more of Prague with Adrienna. We wandered for hours, purposely getting lost to then find ourselves in some of the coolest places. We exchanged stories of our travels, pondering everything that happened to bring us here. It's these sacred moments I cherish most; you find yourself putting the pieces of your life together only to realize the poetry of it all. The magic in the story that gets to be yours.

In the middle of our wandering we discovered the Lennon Wall flooded with tourists. Adrienna and I stood away from the crowd, watching as they added onto the wall. I thought of the mummy complex, how humans find ways to leave their mark in this world in hope of being remembered. I surveyed the wall, reading notes and seeing photos of strangers connected by a desire to be immortalized. It pains me how much life is missed in our attempt to capture it. As I watched people place their notes on the wall, it hit me: perhaps it's not that we want to be remembered so much as we fear being forgotten.

There's no greater feeling than knowing you made the right decision, you chose the right place at the right time. May this chapter continue to unravel poetically. May you too find joy in this chapter of your story. If you don't, I hope you find the courage to begin again.