There is always a first time. Just too many to recall and relate. And as you grow older, the first times and the other times that follow, make these the experiences one falls back on.
The first time I started teaching, I was very nervous. I asked my father, who had begun his career as a lecturer, for some tips. He said “Remember, you definitely know more than the student sitting in front of you, but that does not mean you can fool them”. “Go prepared and if you are unable to answer any of the questions, do not try to dodge the query or even pull a fast one”. “There is no harm admitting that you do not know. But go back the next day, with the answer. A student will respect you for that”. That advice held me in good stead in both teaching and non-teaching life
Getting on in years, some tasks are no longer done with ease. Can be more trying than the first time. I was rather pleased the other day, when I threaded a slender silk thread through a very fine eye of the needle in dim light.
Perhaps it was the new pair of glasses! But to me it did feel like an achievement of sorts. Like a first time without depending on others.
There will continue to be some firsts. Like the first time I made a snowman with my daughter a couple of months ago.
So very enjoyable. All those Enid Blyton books, the Dennis the Menace and Archie comics that we read as kids conjuring different images all took life on a cold bleak wintry day. And then coming back to a hot cup of tea with some cupcakes. I was a ten year old all over again.
PS - This was for the SRA group - the subject being - The First Time