My wife and I subscribe in a fairly open minded and realistically reserved way to the power of both western (Arabic) and Chinese astrology. The two are linked, even running in an identical pattern of 12 signs, one by month the other by year and hour, but can be studied separately as well. We mix them both as desired and drink the cocktail happily.
My mother was a bit of a white witch, into anything and everything, so in my early life it was assumed these things were part of the world we lived in. As I grew older I began to compartmentalise my life and my upbringing, so all things supernatural fell into the realm of a bit of fun, a game to play with friends, sometimes with revealing results, sometimes not. Oddly I never forget someone’s star sign, even after I have forgotten their name and I do have a better than 1 in 12 track record of guessing them.
Meg is a teacher and we can not help but notice the direct correlation to her relationship with different year groups and their signs, often retrospectively, because as I said, we are not obsessive about it. Favourite year groups and ones she connected with less well are often quite obvious when the “stars are aligned”.
This is the year of the Rabbit.
It is meant to be the year of the Cat, but apparently, the Cat was too lazy to turn up on badge day and relinquished their year to the slightly more active and accomodating Rabbit (amazing what a bit of fear can do).
We are both positively aligned to the Rabbit. It is in my triangle of best compatibility being a Sheep (sometimes called Goat in western translations, which is confusing) and it is Meg’s “wild card” outlier as she is the Dog.
Anyway, running against that expectation we have both had pretty rough years, or have we?
In both our worlds, we have had many offers, plenty of success, lots of recognition recognition and growth and generally a feeling of being on top of what we do, or in my case an awareness that others feel that way, even if I do not always feel it myself. We have both had setbacks, but these have often been small things, or often out of our control, sometimes losses we are not sad about relinquishing and the reserved and relaxed Rabbit would probably say “just walk away” anyway.
For me it has come from general unhappiness at the paper (but still success in many ways), a new relationship with a school that has welcomed me, even if I have been slow to embrace it fully and now the re-emergence of the original school as an option for next year.
Choosing between a combination of probably two of them is tough and something I am not enjoying (today is D-Day for one school so this is it guys).
Boo-hoo, poor old me, I have too many choices in my life, tough gig.
Yup, need to get over this, pick a ride and make the most of it. Someone else will get an opportunity when a hole is created, others will deal. Things can turn quickly so make the most of the good and choose wisely, an important thing for when they are not so good.
As I often say, buy a new house on a gloomy day in the middle of winter. If you like it then, you will like it everyday.
Scotch Oakburn college was where it started.
After quitting my job at a camera shop, just in time for COVID to hit, I was cursing my timing, when the school called for interest in a pool of photographers to call on. I applied and possibly because I was the only fully equipped applicant and known to the school from previous dealings (via the shop ironically), I got the whole pool allotment to myself.
It was great for three years and genuinely tough to leave, but COVID level budgets eventually forced my hand. I needed a real job and the paper (see below) was hiring a part time tog. Covering all my own expenses with an income close to unemployment benefits was only acceptable on any level because I was loving the environment, the chance to work as a photographer and grateful during COVID, to be working at all.
I never once took any type of COVID benefit, even though I probably qualified, but I did spend part of my small inheritance from when my mother passed early on on gear, which empowered me through to now. Thanks mum!
The school is well serviced, but small enough so that I can make a difference. It has two campuses, one of which is literally over the road from home and they have guaranteed a minimum hour/school week load (as a self employed contractor) of about the amount I dropped from the paper. I made friends who are still in my life and for a short minute, I felt the door to other options was about to open, but I closed it in the name of “security for my future” with immediate regrets.
The Examiner news paper.
The grand old lady, going for nearly 200 years is a shadow of its former self and changing constantly, but still going and still viable. I dislike the photographic process there, but like the people, the variety, contacts I have made and appreciate it for opening my eyes to what goes on in this town (lots as it happens). It was never really a contender as a single career option, but it would make a decent base with which to work from.
One of those things that either a school or the paper might offer.
St Patricks College.
The biggest single high school campus in Tasmania (2000 students and staff), welcomed me easily and efficiently, giving me “in house” casual status, something that made life a whole lot easier.
The lack of younger students (different feeder school) and to be honest the better equipped nature of this school makes it on one hand easy be at, sometimes more anonymous to work in and there is little pressure (or realistic chance) to learn every name or be on top of everything, but on the other hand, I have struggled to see just yet, where I fit in.
They like my images, but video is yet to be tapped and their media department is so extensive, I might not be needed there at all. I shot a whole series of videos for their rock challenge event that I was really happy with, but they already had plans.
The other Wolf (Launceston Grammar) being beaten by a gutsy and skilled St Pats, state champion soccer team.
Not a small thing also is the person I have been dealing directly with, is actually leaving this week as well, so ties recently made are also soon to be broken with no guarantees for the future. There is possibly a chance of an increased role, but equally, a chance of nothing at all (see below).
Unfortunately, working for two of the three private schools in a city this size is not an option.
I have often thought of the two older Protestant based private schools in Launceston (Scotch and Grammar, both of which I have worked for), as a pair of hungry Timber wolves, eyeing each other off across the valley floor. The big Brown bear that is St Pats, a Catholic school with massive support from the church is content to do its thing without fear of the two wolves, but is wary none the less.
The Scotch wolf is keen to have back the cub of their making, the bear is a little sad that another of those many taken into its fold is going, but hrrumphs, shakes it off and moves on. The wolf, feeling more lucky than smug takes back into its leaner holdings with part of its life that I like to feel made it a less mean than the life for a wolf needs to be.
or
The bear, content to be quiet protector offers the cub an easy and satisfying life free of the fears and the stresses of the Timber wolf’s life, the wolf wanders off looking for another stray to guide.
*
So, I have accepted a continuation with the “big Bear”, because at the end of the day, they have been great, easy to work with and after a quick (totally unfair pressure on my part) conversation this morning have even pledged greater connection in the future. In the end it came down to which “sorry but” email did I want to write less.
Seems they like me and I like them.
This means dropping my load at the paper back again to two days, about the right amount to stay sane and do the cool sports stuff on the weekends.
Regrets?
Not yet and I don’t intend to have any.
Always happy to make way for anyone with real problems :).