scratching the itch

Occasionally, when we are all grown up, had left the school scene for almost a decade or even more, had gotten use to the robotic existence of the working life, had locked up our childhood aspiration so tightly at the back of our cluttered mind, something would always comeby, giving us a big thud on our heads to awaken us from this on-going slumber. This happened to me. Not sure what, but yes, throw it all to satisfy this.

Harbouring the craziest ultimate dream of being a volunteer around the world, especially in the third world countries, teaching the kids and children and people there, I am now in the midst of obtaining a certification in teaching. I had kept postponing this step for such a long time, that I am a granny in among the young people circle.

It might be too far-fetched, this dream. A silly dream, some might say, if they know. Quitting your job, for a dream, not even a plan had hatched, was the siliest and craziest and most irresponsible thing that I had done in my life. Again. But yes, with all the monies, even not so much of it, I just could not get even a little satisfaction out of it.

And so, here I am, trying to lay out a plan towards that one goal. First, I must make clear the end goals. Then, I will got for it. No, I must. Should I then not like, I would have the gratification of knowing I had scratched that itch, and it's now time to apply the balm and forget about it.