Time as a Teacher

    Today in class, I listened to the classmate introductions we were asked to give in regards to one another. The people in the class are so young and naive. Many, still live at home with their parents, working part-time jobs at the local eatery. Their free time is spent in front of a TV screen immersed in the latest. greatest video game, where they sit wide eyed for hours upon hours punching buttons and twisting joysticks until the screen becomes a blur colors and explosions. I respectfully smiled and nodded as they eagerly conversed and compared the virtues and shortcomings of  Bioshock and Diablo II.
    After a time, bored with the discussion, I began to wonder, just what sort of tales this group had to tell? What life experiences do they have to draw on?  What do they know about love, loss and struggle? How will they show emotion  in their stories without having first experienced the pain and heartache of the "real" world.
     Watching their enthusiastic banter brought back memories of my first college classes, taken decades ago.Upon graduating high school,  I'd had visions of being a great journalist and author. Back then, I had so much heart and motivation. I was eager to write and create. I sat down, countless evenings, with my notebook and favorite pen, waiting for the words to come. Waiting for inspiration to strike. It did not. Instead, I  found myself taking courses that did not involve the actual process of writing. I began to avoid what I loved. Eventually, I dropped out of school. I had no idea that I was about to learn and live what has been referred to by many, as "the school of hard knocks". I did indeed receive an education in life. Through the years, I became a sponge, soaking up everything and everyone that I came into contact with. My brain became a journal, silently recording the constant ups and downs of my life. There came a point in 2013, where the journal of my mind, felt full. Exploding with material to write about and stories to tell. I have vowed to take this year to learn structure and organization. I will brush up on my English Composition skills and then.....I will open the floodgates and let the stories pour onto the page. Time is indeed a great teacher; and while it isn't always kind or patient or eloquent, it is honest, emotional and unrelenting.