Pic Collage 1991-93

 

JOY

Nine times we visited Cancun, Mexico and our vacation was never complete unless we visited Chemuyil, a lovely little beach off the beaten path. We were first directed there as a place to do some great snorkeling, and it was for a while. Eventually we witnessed the reefs dying from the suntan lotion, but the beauty of the beach and its smattering of palm trees never changed. One time when we were there, a boy band from England was shooting a music video. The beach had a bar and little huts where they would serve you fresh caught fish, cooked up with homemade tortillas, beans, rice, a steamed jicama. I know that since the days we were there, that part of the Yucatán Peninsula has built up into a huge tourist attraction called Rivera Maya. But we remember when it was jungle, and we would drive for 90 minutes just to relax on the most beautiful beach in the world,

ACHIEVEMENT

I wrote about this Mexican adventure a few years ago. I am pictured here on the steps of the El Castillo in the ancient city of Chichen Itza. When we first went there as part of a tour in 1987, I was afraid to climb the very steep steps. But in 1992 I changed my tune. I wanted the challenge of overcoming the fear. We rented a car and drove for hours to get there and it was worth it. Mission accomplished!

COURAGE

Before this year, 1993 was the year of our greatest challenges. In June of that year, some discs blew out in Jim’s lower back, and he had surgery to fuse them. Sadly, the fusion didn’t take, and he spent the rest of his life with a crack in his back which disabled him from working, golfing, and many other things. This was a huge adjustment for me, not to mention the financial strain we were under, given that he made a decent income and we had a brand new house. That summer, his aunt and uncle completed the cabin they were building on the New River in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and in the fall Jim’s doctor said he could make the trip there. It was our first visit, and we fell in love with the place. It became our home away from home for many years to come. I use the word Courage here, but what I really was building was Spiritual Courage. Earlier this year when faced with Jim’s terminal illness, I thought a lot about 1993 and all we went through, and it helped me know we could get through this year, no matter what. Jim took this photo of me standing on a petrified log in the river. It wasn’t until doing this blog that I can see how this photo mirrors the one that he took of me at Coe Lake eleven years earlier, the photo that began this series. In that picture, I was starting a new direction. In the picture above, it was the same.

And now I find myself once again gathering my courage to move forward into a new life. I know even though he is not here physically, Jim is here in spirit helping me find joy, achieve new goals, and continue to build spiritual courage. It has always worked in the past. I see no reason that would change now. 🌻

Nothing Burgers and Modern Art

Since my car accident, I have completely avoided driving the road where the crash occurred. In the beginning, I was pretty terrified at the prospect. Later, after the long hospital stay, I might not have been as afraid, but I still was unsure about making the commitment to turn onto A&W Bulb Road.

Then yesterday I had a dentist appointment. I knew the fastest and best way to go was to take that road. And so I gathered my courage and I did it.

It turned out being a nothing burger.

I thought I would recognize where the accident took place. Nope.

Facing my fear, though, sure made me euphoric. It’s amazing how things get built up in our minds when they really are a whole lot of nothing.

I hope to remember this more often in the future.

Now here is a little modern art I colored today. 😊

Up-n-Down

My friend Becky told me that it would take two weeks before she would really grieve when her parents passed away. I’m coming up on two weeks and I’m starting to notice a difference in myself.

For a while, I’ve just been caught up in nice memories of Jim and our life together. I’ve been taking care of things and seeing friends and rejoining a church. All good.

But today, for some reason, it’s been a bit up-and-down. I’m starting to remember more traumatic things from the past several months. For example, my car accident. I really have not thought a whole lot about it in quite some time, but today things were starting to pop up.

I know it’s trauma. I know there’s a lot of healing to be done. I’m doing my very, very best to take care of myself.

And I have help. A little while ago, I received a booklet from the leader of the Lectio Divina prayer group I attended on Monday. She included a very nice letter with it. The booklet is called A Time to Grieve, and I already read a little bit of it, and it has very comforting words. I do need to say that when I received the book and the letter, I cried and cried and cried. And I think I really needed to do that.

*

All that aside for now, I do want to say that I took a big step today. Actually maybe two big steps. I decided it was time for a trip to Costco and on my way there took the overpass from Gladiolus Drive to Summerlin Road. That is something that I had been avoiding ever since my accident, because sometimes it’s hard to merge there and one time somebody nearly ran me off the road refusing to let me in. I always get a little nervous going there. But it was absolutely fine today. There was nobody I had to merge with. 

And then, as I was approaching Costco, a song came on the radio that just seem to have the perfect words. This song came out right at the end of my freshman year of high school and I loved it from the first time I heard it. These words telling me that things will get easier, and even being referred to as a child, just felt so perfect today. I have added this song to my special playlist that I listen to many mornings. Hopefully you know this song, and can sing along, keeping me in mind as you do. I appreciate it 🌻

The Core

 Inspired by “The Well Spoken Heart” by Nikita Gill.

Listening to my heart is what

I need to remember to do.

It is my guide. It won’t lead me

wrong.

We will step through these treatments

together, and keep our love for each other

in the foreground.

Without fail.

It always comes back to the core

where courage resides.

Finisterre: That’s Not You

 

The road beating you down is not the only road.

The moon is over your home while the

sun shines here on a spring Sunday.

The future is now in a new question

and that comes with a willingness to

be open to the messages of the universe,

the butterfly and sunflowers drew the

voice to your awareness and that is

all good: miracles are at hand.

Those from the past are very present.

Leave your shoes, your books, and

walk to a new beginning when the

time is ripe. You truly were giving up

too soon. And we know that is not you.

Become part of all that is and

stand in the trees, stand on the shore,

then walk on, no matter what.

(Inspired by people I know who just finished walking the Camino in Spain, David Whyte’s poem “Finesterre,” and Paul Simon’s Seven Psalms.)

Fearful Heart, Silent Voice

 #DearParker

Response to "The Student from Hell"

Quotes from the text:

The way we diagnose our student's condition will determine the kind of remedy we offer. (42)

Our assumption that students are brain-dead leads to pedagogies that deaden their brain. (42)

The silent and seemingly sullen students in our classrooms are not brain-dead: they are full of fear. (45)

Their silence is born not of stupidity or banality but of a desire to protect themselves and survive. (46)

I try to teach their fearful hearts, and when I am able to do so, their minds come along as well. (47)

Behind their fearful silence, our students want to find their voices, speak their voices, have their voices heard. (47)

A good teacher is one who can listen to those voices even before they are spoken...making space...being aware...paying attention...honoring...not rushing...no coercion...empathy. (47)

Dear Parker,

Here is an aspect that is so real to me, yet has often escaped me in the wake of competing demands.  I'm getting this message from more than one direction -- the idea of the fear a student carries into the classroom experience being paramount in their minds, and how it colors all their actions. My mode of operation has often been to placate the fear -- not necessarily focus on moving them beyond it. If they say they don't want to talk or read out loud,  I say okay. Yet, at the end of last year I started to think I'm not serving them, and began to gently push in some areas. Since then I've found a few ways we can consistently do things to move this process along. Now that I'm embracing the idea of their fear informing everything, this has surged to the forefront of importance. 

 I know fear isn't limited to them. I have my own series of fears that show up. I'll be addressing that as well!

I spent a good part of last year afraid of some of my students and because of that, I was unable to reach the rest. It was painfully awful. I first saw their attitudes as armor, as Brene Brown says, and that was true. But it wasn't easy to figure out how to get past the armor.

Thinking of it as FEAR -- False Evidence Appearing Real--I believe I can get beyond it. It makes it more a common, singular emotion, rather than several different. Young people come in not knowing if they can be successful, if they will have a voice, if they are good enough. They carry with them any failures from the past that brought them down. They internalize the negatives. My job is to gently move them forward, chipping away at fear through the right combination of activities and time. The most productive direction from the Day One. Building a classroom community to support them wherever they are, one of mutual dependence -- the balance of everyone doing their part. I can honestly say, it hasn't been like that the past couple of years.

Time will tell. But in the meantime, I am going to keep this in the upper part of my mind as I enter the next school year.

hms

 

21. Pregnant

 #66Challenge

 

I had a dream I was walking along, then I sat down. A doctor (female, Indian) approached me and told me I was pregnant.

I knew it was the truth.

And I was happy. Ageless.

Nothing else involved, and no one else.

All I can think now is that I'm pregnant with the possibility of birthing something new in my classroom, somehow pulling together to grow and learn and thrive.

I'm pregnant with ideas on how to let the kids do the productive struggle instead of me constantly struggling against them. Breathing into, rather than holding my breath.

It will be much like those midnight feedings and even colicky babies you have to drive around in the car to soothe and get quiet calm. In other words, it will be rocky for a while, I am sure.

I am slowly giving birth to what I already know...and what I don't.

This is a sacred time for me, and I need to keep my mind on

love

wisdom

caring

listening

lifting

and recognizing the 

moments of 

brilliance.

 

Be the Joy (7 Lines/ 7 Days #78)

 #108Weeks

November 7-13, 2021

 

 

There is a way, and it's called Surrender to God.

I spent most of the week with little energy.

This quote from a young adult novel* I was reading stopped me in my tracks: What if the whole world is actually powered by secret rage?

My spiritual landscape has been made anew.

I have faith I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I read an essay** by an elementary educator in Alaska and she came to the same conclusion I have come to: We must be the joy we want to see in the world. No one is coming to save us.

Saturday I woke with a return of my energy. I am grateful.

 

 

* Of a Feather by Dayna Lorentz 

**Anyone who knows or cares about teachers should read this blog post: https://jenabenton.com/2021/10/21/its-time-to-talk-about-whats-going-on-in-school/

Casting My Faith (7 Lines/7 Days #77)

 #108Weeks

 October 31-November 6, 2021

 

 The only thing I know is that I don't know

Obstacles will come like waves -- keep coming and coming -- you must learn to surf with unshakeable peace

The most beautiful form of courage is to be happy (Jeanne Lohmann)

Don't quit before the miracle

Beauty is the target -- spread joy or be destroyed

All my young readers are created in God's image, too. Little Godlings

I cast my faith forward as a light on my path