i met some cool people from brazil when i walked on the camino. one such brazilian friend made this and sent it to me a few years ago. i thought i would share!
conoci a unos brazilenos cuando fui al espana a caminar. uno de ellos hizo este video y me mando hace dos anos. quise compartirlo con ustedes!
Monday, June 22, 2009
pilgrimage, rumi, and red lentil soup
to all my fellow pilgrims,
buen camino.
from terminal four gate 25 i started and ended this trip, if you can call it an end.
i wrote those words on the sixth day of july in the year 2005 after returning from a pilgrimage across spain. it has been four years since i walked the camino de santiago. there exists inside of me a battle to not forget all that was learned on the 500 mile journey. there are days i simply forget all that took place, and then there are nights when dreams rich in color and vibrancy will not let my mind let go of each step, each person met, each lesson learned and unlearned.
those nights are incredible, and i am not surprised when i wake up exhausted.
today i had lunch with a friend who not only encourages me but walked with me four summers ago. we ate delicious red lentil soup, talked about the books we were reading and caught up on each other's lives.
she was speaking to her sister when i sat down at the table, and commented, "well, jillian is here now, so i will call you later. oh, yeah, i forgot you knew her." i wondered what she possibly could be talking about. i didn't recall any such meeting. when she got off the phone she said, "she walked with you while you were on your pilgrimage."
it only took that reminder. so many people walked here in the u.s. while i was walking in spain. people i still don't know walked with me.
it was a humbling reminder.
as we prepared to say goodbye after our delicious lunch, my friend grabbed her book of rumi and left us with this parting thought.
I want to be where
your bare foot walks,
buen camino.
from terminal four gate 25 i started and ended this trip, if you can call it an end.
i wrote those words on the sixth day of july in the year 2005 after returning from a pilgrimage across spain. it has been four years since i walked the camino de santiago. there exists inside of me a battle to not forget all that was learned on the 500 mile journey. there are days i simply forget all that took place, and then there are nights when dreams rich in color and vibrancy will not let my mind let go of each step, each person met, each lesson learned and unlearned.
those nights are incredible, and i am not surprised when i wake up exhausted.
today i had lunch with a friend who not only encourages me but walked with me four summers ago. we ate delicious red lentil soup, talked about the books we were reading and caught up on each other's lives.
she was speaking to her sister when i sat down at the table, and commented, "well, jillian is here now, so i will call you later. oh, yeah, i forgot you knew her." i wondered what she possibly could be talking about. i didn't recall any such meeting. when she got off the phone she said, "she walked with you while you were on your pilgrimage."
it only took that reminder. so many people walked here in the u.s. while i was walking in spain. people i still don't know walked with me.
it was a humbling reminder.
as we prepared to say goodbye after our delicious lunch, my friend grabbed her book of rumi and left us with this parting thought.
I want to be where
your bare foot walks,
because maybe before you step,
you'll look at the ground. I want that blessing. *
these words rolled around in my head and transported me back to the road, the camino. when i returned from walking the pilgrimage, my feet were abused to say the least. half dollar sized blisters had left their toll, not to mention the invisible pain deep in the tendons. i was very much aware of my feet during the walk and for many months after. a few days after my return, friends washed my feet after a conversation of pilgrimage.
it was a humbling reminder filled with beauty and grace.
ever since the camino, i have mostly taken communion with bare feet. it serves as a reminder to me of that humility and blessing that came from walking so many miles and from having to confront myself in the midst of waving wheat fields and spanish vineyards.
every june, memories come back to life for me in dreams and visions. i welcome them. it calls me back to wholeness, it calls me back to simplicity, and it calls me back to a grace understood on the camino in ways that are impossible to explain.
on the last page of my journal, i wrote myself a note, as if i knew the time would come when forgetfulness would become easy.
this pilgrimage has and will continue to be about grace... so be gentle with yourself, jillian, as you step back into a world that seeks for grace so hard that you will miss it...
slow down
breathe
walk and see it
tranquilo. tranquilo. tranquilo.
* this is part of rumi's poem mary's hiding.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
physics camp
my school was awarded a grant to hold science camp this summer. there are three different camps. last week was engineering camp, this week is physics camp, and next week is environmental sciences camp.
there is a special initiative in arizona to help students get hands on opportunities for science (S.T.E.M. Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics). it is also sponsored by the arizona science center.
twenty students were selected for each camp and then at the end they will go on a field trip to the arizona science center, a huge hands-on science center where kids get to play.
i signed up to help with physics camp (yes, michelle, physics camp) to learn more about how to effectively teach elementary students physics. it has been a fun week filled with making homemade solar ovens, windmills, and discussing, circuits, solar energy, renewable and nonrenewable resources, gravity, speed, and motion.
the kids have had nothing but hands on experiences learning about all these concepts and they are here even earlier than the camp starts just to get started. i love this. it is how science should be taught.
i reflect back on my experiences in science, and i really do not remember getting science in elementary school. by the time i got to middle school and high school it took a long time to unlearn all the bad habits and attitudes i had gained toward science.
first of all, i had this idea that science was solely about math, never about having fun, and that you had to be right. although involving a great deal of math, science is fun, and it is definitely not about being right.
i think there are many reasons why elementary teachers avoid science. all are excuses because most (definitely not all) general education teachers have not had great experiences in their own lives relating to science. we do not have the best professional development in science. we take one class about how to teach science and then you are expected to go into the classroom and just know how to teach it, and have all the supplies to do so. we have been so focused on reading and math, forgetting that of course science incorporates reading and math.
luckily, we are getting more and more focused on science, and focused in a good way. we are providing hands-on learning experiences for students. science and math really strike me as something that is best learned outside of a text book. although occasionally handy, experimental and life based is much more meaningful. most educators i know ultimately believe in this. so why is it so hard to convince everyone else (state departments of education, legislators, congressmen and women, etc,) that this is the way it should be?
i am glad i signed up for this week, just to reinforce how we can be facilitating the learning of science so that our students begin to think critically about the world we live in...and have some fun in the process.
there is a special initiative in arizona to help students get hands on opportunities for science (S.T.E.M. Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics). it is also sponsored by the arizona science center.
twenty students were selected for each camp and then at the end they will go on a field trip to the arizona science center, a huge hands-on science center where kids get to play.
i signed up to help with physics camp (yes, michelle, physics camp) to learn more about how to effectively teach elementary students physics. it has been a fun week filled with making homemade solar ovens, windmills, and discussing, circuits, solar energy, renewable and nonrenewable resources, gravity, speed, and motion.
the kids have had nothing but hands on experiences learning about all these concepts and they are here even earlier than the camp starts just to get started. i love this. it is how science should be taught.
i reflect back on my experiences in science, and i really do not remember getting science in elementary school. by the time i got to middle school and high school it took a long time to unlearn all the bad habits and attitudes i had gained toward science.
first of all, i had this idea that science was solely about math, never about having fun, and that you had to be right. although involving a great deal of math, science is fun, and it is definitely not about being right.
i think there are many reasons why elementary teachers avoid science. all are excuses because most (definitely not all) general education teachers have not had great experiences in their own lives relating to science. we do not have the best professional development in science. we take one class about how to teach science and then you are expected to go into the classroom and just know how to teach it, and have all the supplies to do so. we have been so focused on reading and math, forgetting that of course science incorporates reading and math.
luckily, we are getting more and more focused on science, and focused in a good way. we are providing hands-on learning experiences for students. science and math really strike me as something that is best learned outside of a text book. although occasionally handy, experimental and life based is much more meaningful. most educators i know ultimately believe in this. so why is it so hard to convince everyone else (state departments of education, legislators, congressmen and women, etc,) that this is the way it should be?
i am glad i signed up for this week, just to reinforce how we can be facilitating the learning of science so that our students begin to think critically about the world we live in...and have some fun in the process.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
challenges
this morning i went to early morning yoga. i am definitely still a beginner in the practice of yoga but i do like having challenges every now and again.the great thing about taking risks and taking on challenges for me is that is shows me where i can go. it shows me what my hidden potential is. i love the way the instructor today said, let's just play with this pose.
this is a bound yoga pose. you lunge forward and then clasp your hands behind you, one hand under the legs and one hand over. then today, erin said, let's play a little bit. try to raise your back leg off the ground while you do this pose.
wowza. i tried a few times and fell every time. then i grabbed some straps to help me keep bound, and for a nanosecond i was able to lift my back leg.
this is why i love yoga because it is all about the nanoseconds. it is all about knowing where you can go and then celebrating when you show even the slightest growth. i would never have imagined that i could do this pose until i was challenged to do so.
sometimes i don't know how far i can push myself until someone says, let's just play with it. it was very cool to be able to get somewhere i never thought i could or would go.
* picture courtesy of genieve's yoga site.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
ping pong
this post is dedicated to my cousins: jennifer, brenda, janet, and katie
last night justino and some friends of ours and i went to the aquaplex (the new city recreation place that yes includes a large pool with slides). usually we go to the aquaplex to play basketball, run around, or play volleyball.
aparently there is a new sport on friday nights... ping pong. yep, you read me right. ping pong.
now, a girl's got to have a little bit of fun once in awhile. so, did i mention that i grew up with the champions of ping pong? did i mention the hours, days, years spent perfecting my serve in the basement of my grandparents' house? did i mention all the blood, sweat, and tears?
heck no.
i just let them all think that this girl didn't have a clue.
cruel?
perhaps.
fun?
you better believe it!
i served some easy serves and played a couple of the guys, and when i got to the guy who had recently commented on the lack of sportiness of the girlfriends, i let loose. i slammed, spin served, and hit him with my best shot.
in the end we all had a good time. but it sure brought back memories of ping pong in grandma's basement, and listening to the old tuner and record player while sitting on those plastic chairs. none of us wanted to be the last one out of the basement because it was dark and scary after the light was turned out. there was a stuffed bobcat down there somewhere that scared the bejeebies out of me.
we had some good times down there. who'd have thought it would come to use some ten years later?
who'd have thought?
last night justino and some friends of ours and i went to the aquaplex (the new city recreation place that yes includes a large pool with slides). usually we go to the aquaplex to play basketball, run around, or play volleyball.
aparently there is a new sport on friday nights... ping pong. yep, you read me right. ping pong.
now, a girl's got to have a little bit of fun once in awhile. so, did i mention that i grew up with the champions of ping pong? did i mention the hours, days, years spent perfecting my serve in the basement of my grandparents' house? did i mention all the blood, sweat, and tears?
heck no.
i just let them all think that this girl didn't have a clue.
cruel?
perhaps.
fun?
you better believe it!
i served some easy serves and played a couple of the guys, and when i got to the guy who had recently commented on the lack of sportiness of the girlfriends, i let loose. i slammed, spin served, and hit him with my best shot.
in the end we all had a good time. but it sure brought back memories of ping pong in grandma's basement, and listening to the old tuner and record player while sitting on those plastic chairs. none of us wanted to be the last one out of the basement because it was dark and scary after the light was turned out. there was a stuffed bobcat down there somewhere that scared the bejeebies out of me.
we had some good times down there. who'd have thought it would come to use some ten years later?
who'd have thought?
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
days like these
i love days like today because i get to settle into being.
i woke up fairly early for a day off and began reading. since i have been off work for three days now, i have finished reading three books. i love to read and rarely have enough time to do so with teaching.
i am reading the book blue highways by William Least Heat-Moon. it has turned out to be much better than i expected. it is a story of a pilgrimage of sorts on back roads and byways of america across north, south, east, and west. i am enjoying it immensely.
he writes" maybe the road could provide a therapy through observation of the ordinary and obvious, a means whereby the outer opens an inner one. stop, look, listen, the old railroad crossing signs warned. Whitman calls it "the profound lesson of reception." new ways of seeing can disclose new things: the radio telescope revealed quasars and pulsars, and the scanning electron microscope showed the whiskers of the dust mite. but turn the question around: do new things make for new ways of seeing?"
after an experience of eating supper with an impoverished family he wrote, "down along the ridge, i wondered why it's always those who live on little who are the ones who ask you to dinner."
yes, friends, this book is shaping up to be a great reminder of pilgrimage. just when i forget or the days of walking miles and miles seems far away, i read something that reminds me. i need this.
i scurried out of bed, packed the book in a bag, and biked to yoga. i went to a class with a different instructor today and it was wonderful. she reminded all of us that no matter how many times she tells us we are divine and beautiful that it will take our own journeys of casting aside the layers in order to believe it. today for a few moments, i believed it.
i biked around my old college campus. biked around down town. met up with some friends. biked home. i also had great conversations over the phone with some friends i haven't talked to in ages.
all felt well today. i felt relaxed, at peace, loved.
days like these past few make me feel whole, and remind me to look at others in wholeness and not in brokenness.
hope your day felt well.
i woke up fairly early for a day off and began reading. since i have been off work for three days now, i have finished reading three books. i love to read and rarely have enough time to do so with teaching.
i am reading the book blue highways by William Least Heat-Moon. it has turned out to be much better than i expected. it is a story of a pilgrimage of sorts on back roads and byways of america across north, south, east, and west. i am enjoying it immensely.
he writes" maybe the road could provide a therapy through observation of the ordinary and obvious, a means whereby the outer opens an inner one. stop, look, listen, the old railroad crossing signs warned. Whitman calls it "the profound lesson of reception." new ways of seeing can disclose new things: the radio telescope revealed quasars and pulsars, and the scanning electron microscope showed the whiskers of the dust mite. but turn the question around: do new things make for new ways of seeing?"
after an experience of eating supper with an impoverished family he wrote, "down along the ridge, i wondered why it's always those who live on little who are the ones who ask you to dinner."
yes, friends, this book is shaping up to be a great reminder of pilgrimage. just when i forget or the days of walking miles and miles seems far away, i read something that reminds me. i need this.
i scurried out of bed, packed the book in a bag, and biked to yoga. i went to a class with a different instructor today and it was wonderful. she reminded all of us that no matter how many times she tells us we are divine and beautiful that it will take our own journeys of casting aside the layers in order to believe it. today for a few moments, i believed it.
i biked around my old college campus. biked around down town. met up with some friends. biked home. i also had great conversations over the phone with some friends i haven't talked to in ages.
all felt well today. i felt relaxed, at peace, loved.
days like these past few make me feel whole, and remind me to look at others in wholeness and not in brokenness.
hope your day felt well.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
new car
there are certain things about being an adult that scare the crap out of me. these things come in cycles, and i feel like once i get the hang of it everything is okay. i generally find that these things are uncomfortable because i feel like i may be taken advantage of. i am not sure where this particular sentiment comes from but i just feel it. so i get defensive in order to compensate for my lack of knowledge or vocabulary on the subject.
here is my list of adult things that are scary.
1. moving out on your own and understanding how to budget for everything.
2. filling out all your paper work for a new job.
3. doing your taxes for the first time.
4. filling out paperwork for retirement funds and investing your money responsibly.
5. anything pertaining to health insurance.
6. buying a new car and taking out your first loan.
one through five have been experiences i have already had to deal with and thanks to being able to ask a lot of questions, i feel they were all handled successfully. but now, here i am faced with adult challenge number 6. buying a new car.
ugh.
justino and i went to the subaru dealership on a whim about a month ago, just to look at the cars there. i currently own a 2000 forester and love it. we were mainly just wishing, hoping, dreaming, and planning, as we walked around the lot. we weren't all that serious. we didn't even test drive anything.
last weekend we returned to the lot, slightly more serious. we test drove an outback (which i was pretty sure i didn't want.) we talked finances on two different vehicles. and i walked out, pretending to be okay but really thinking... i have no idea what i am doing.
so i did what any young woman does in a situation like this... i called my mom. it is times like these that you really appreciate the experience your parents have. in the aforementioned items, i think i pretended i didn't need my parents' help... you know, all that independence stuff we pride ourselves on. but now, i think i have grown slightly wiser. mom and dad are on speed dial, and why not use their expertise.
so i asked a million questions. mom in turn gave me good advice and a list of questions to research. i researched for a couple of days. made a comparison chart between the two models of cars, and looked at my finances closely.
i returned today alone, armed with my lists, and ready to test drive again. today i test drove on the highway a subaru forester and an impreza outback sport. i knew immediately which one i wanted (despite the fact one had an amazing apr (see i can even use the lingo now)). i am a forester girl through and through. the new foresters are incredible, they ride smoothly, have a lot more cargo and leg room, and a higher ground clearance.
not to mention:
high strength steel bodies in a ring configuration which creates stronger b beams
has a curb weight of 3,250 lbs
a double wishbone rear suspension
DC3 Chassis
17 in. rims
8.9 in ground clearance
3 in wider body than previous models.
awd which distributes the power evenly
okay, now i am just showing off.
i bartered today. i actually bartered with the fancy dressed sales man. sure i have bartered before but a mexican beach and a car lot are completely different.
i still haven't made the plunge yet. but justino and i will go back probably tomorrow or Friday and just see what we can afford. i think we will be getting an okay deal and feel great cruising around in our new forester. we will be just like the subaru commercial where the family moves one forester out of the garage to put another one in. we will have our little rus side by side.
i think an important step in growing is knowing it is okay to ask questions. it is okay to not know what all that stuff means.
thanks mom and dad for all your expertise in car shopping and loans. i needed it.
here is my list of adult things that are scary.
1. moving out on your own and understanding how to budget for everything.
2. filling out all your paper work for a new job.
3. doing your taxes for the first time.
4. filling out paperwork for retirement funds and investing your money responsibly.
5. anything pertaining to health insurance.
6. buying a new car and taking out your first loan.
one through five have been experiences i have already had to deal with and thanks to being able to ask a lot of questions, i feel they were all handled successfully. but now, here i am faced with adult challenge number 6. buying a new car.
ugh.
justino and i went to the subaru dealership on a whim about a month ago, just to look at the cars there. i currently own a 2000 forester and love it. we were mainly just wishing, hoping, dreaming, and planning, as we walked around the lot. we weren't all that serious. we didn't even test drive anything.
last weekend we returned to the lot, slightly more serious. we test drove an outback (which i was pretty sure i didn't want.) we talked finances on two different vehicles. and i walked out, pretending to be okay but really thinking... i have no idea what i am doing.
so i did what any young woman does in a situation like this... i called my mom. it is times like these that you really appreciate the experience your parents have. in the aforementioned items, i think i pretended i didn't need my parents' help... you know, all that independence stuff we pride ourselves on. but now, i think i have grown slightly wiser. mom and dad are on speed dial, and why not use their expertise.
so i asked a million questions. mom in turn gave me good advice and a list of questions to research. i researched for a couple of days. made a comparison chart between the two models of cars, and looked at my finances closely.
i returned today alone, armed with my lists, and ready to test drive again. today i test drove on the highway a subaru forester and an impreza outback sport. i knew immediately which one i wanted (despite the fact one had an amazing apr (see i can even use the lingo now)). i am a forester girl through and through. the new foresters are incredible, they ride smoothly, have a lot more cargo and leg room, and a higher ground clearance.
not to mention:
high strength steel bodies in a ring configuration which creates stronger b beams
has a curb weight of 3,250 lbs
a double wishbone rear suspension
DC3 Chassis
17 in. rims
8.9 in ground clearance
3 in wider body than previous models.
awd which distributes the power evenly
okay, now i am just showing off.
i bartered today. i actually bartered with the fancy dressed sales man. sure i have bartered before but a mexican beach and a car lot are completely different.
i still haven't made the plunge yet. but justino and i will go back probably tomorrow or Friday and just see what we can afford. i think we will be getting an okay deal and feel great cruising around in our new forester. we will be just like the subaru commercial where the family moves one forester out of the garage to put another one in. we will have our little rus side by side.
i think an important step in growing is knowing it is okay to ask questions. it is okay to not know what all that stuff means.
thanks mom and dad for all your expertise in car shopping and loans. i needed it.
Monday, June 8, 2009
gardening creates community
a few weekends ago, we built the beds in the drizzling rain and planted strawberries, chives, basil, oregano, rosemary, jalapenos, habaneros, small green onions, cilantro, and flowers (impatients, columbines, pansies) for some color.
there are a lot of small children (under five) that live in the area so i knew it might be a struggle to keep all the plants in tact. so far, in three weeks, we have had only one plant stepped on and a few flowers picked. i was not really worried about it. what i didn't expect was such a fascination by the kids in the plants.
every morning i hear little feet running over to the plants to see if a strawberry has grown or if any peppers are on the plants. i decided two weeks ago, when i stopped a two year old from touching the habanero plant that it might be a good idea for them to help out so they felt that the garden was theirs too. little did i know that it would turn into such a community of young gardeners.
since their new found ownership, they carefully look and touch
a five year old held the large watering can and watered all the onions and peppers w hile asking, what is this plant, while his ten year old sister supervised the process and added some dirt where it was needed.
after a while, a few more toddlers came to join us.
i didn't stop to think until today about the impact this small garden might have on these kids. i always grew up around gardening because it is something my mom loves to do. i realize that apartments are not the most promising place for a garden, but it seems to have brightened up the place and been a great incentive for all of us to get outside a little more. i can't wait to see their faces when there is actually a pepper and strawberry growing on the green stems.
what i love about these kids the most is their patience to let the plants grow and their dedication to coming over every morning just to check. since they feel like they have some stock in the garden, they take care of it. they watch with wonder and point out new leaves, or tr oubled plants, or plants that need more soil. they are observant, patient, and in awe. they make me smile and bring out the two, four, and ten year old selves that
reside somewhere inside. they make me want to play outside with colored chalk, and run through sprinklers.
it is going to be a great summer.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
trying new things
it is beautiful here. the weather has been fantastic and the kids and i have spent a lot of time outside reading or doing science experiments. i realize that i ask my students to do new things all the time. sometimes that can be scary.
so i have made a concerted effort to try new things myself. sometimes in my adult life i get too comfortable with what i have always done before. there is a thrill in doing something new and different.
for a few years a few colleagues and friends have been going mountain biking. justino and i recently bought a mountain bike (mostly for him but i must admit that i wanted to get one i could ride too.) so last night we headed out to some trails nearby and i experienced my first trip mountain biking.
let me take you through my thought process...
okay, this is not too bad. a little different than riding on the road or in spin class but pretty cool.
uh okay, we are going up a rocky hill. i can do this. not a huge problem. it will take a little getting used to.
oh crap, i am supposed to go down that hill? what about those tree limbs and big rocks?
aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh uh oh uh ahhhh.
breathing rest stop.
That is pretty much the cycle of yesterdays ride.
After I got through the main shock of it all. My friends began giving me some tips. Like keep your feet at nine and three. Push your weight towards the back of your seat. I wouldn't say that I became great at it. Far from great. But, I had a great time and didn't fall off the bike.
I really had a great time and surprised myself by actually going down what looked pretty scary. I felt great at the end because I actually did it. I actually went mountain biking!
Today when I woke up, I was worried that I would be very sore. Actually, I feel pretty great! I even rode to my professional development meeting today.
I'll keep you posted on any new experiences!
so i have made a concerted effort to try new things myself. sometimes in my adult life i get too comfortable with what i have always done before. there is a thrill in doing something new and different.
for a few years a few colleagues and friends have been going mountain biking. justino and i recently bought a mountain bike (mostly for him but i must admit that i wanted to get one i could ride too.) so last night we headed out to some trails nearby and i experienced my first trip mountain biking.
let me take you through my thought process...
okay, this is not too bad. a little different than riding on the road or in spin class but pretty cool.
uh okay, we are going up a rocky hill. i can do this. not a huge problem. it will take a little getting used to.
oh crap, i am supposed to go down that hill? what about those tree limbs and big rocks?
aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh uh oh uh ahhhh.
breathing rest stop.
That is pretty much the cycle of yesterdays ride.
After I got through the main shock of it all. My friends began giving me some tips. Like keep your feet at nine and three. Push your weight towards the back of your seat. I wouldn't say that I became great at it. Far from great. But, I had a great time and didn't fall off the bike.
I really had a great time and surprised myself by actually going down what looked pretty scary. I felt great at the end because I actually did it. I actually went mountain biking!
Today when I woke up, I was worried that I would be very sore. Actually, I feel pretty great! I even rode to my professional development meeting today.
I'll keep you posted on any new experiences!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
summer loving
" that which is oldest is most young and most new. there is nothing so ancient and so dead as human novelty. the 'latest' is always stillborn. it never even manages to arrive. what is really new is what was there all the time. i say, not what has repeated itself all the time; the really 'new' is that which, at every moment, springs freshly into new existence. then newness never repeats itself. yet it is so old it goes back to the earliest beginning. it is the very beginning itself, which speaks to us." - thomas merton, New Seeds of Contemplation
it is the very beginning itself, which speaks to us.
i like that.
i like it a lot.
beginnings signify something unknown to me. and sometimes unknowns are scary. and yet the fact that the unknown is what speaks to me over and over again is somehow reassuring. don't ask me how, i am not sure.
i am somehow comforted by the fact that what is new is really just something old. it makes me feel like i can tackle new challenges and not be alone. it makes me feel a part of the family of things.
today is a beautiful day with the promise of more beautiful days to come. i sat in the patch of sun my window let in today for a good thirty minutes before the sun made it's progress and no longer shined directly in my house. it felt so nice to feel it warm my back. i just sat there in the silence and let it warm me.
i am ready to go to the pool. i am ready for warm days, barbecues, and the sounds of summer. perhaps due to my beginning (being born in the summer), i have always felt something special about this particular season...and not just because i don't work the whole summer. i like the food, sounds, music, activities, and coatlessness (cool made-up word) of summer. it is what i come back to.
my whole self screams today... i am ready.
it is the very beginning itself, which speaks to us.
i like that.
i like it a lot.
beginnings signify something unknown to me. and sometimes unknowns are scary. and yet the fact that the unknown is what speaks to me over and over again is somehow reassuring. don't ask me how, i am not sure.
i am somehow comforted by the fact that what is new is really just something old. it makes me feel like i can tackle new challenges and not be alone. it makes me feel a part of the family of things.
today is a beautiful day with the promise of more beautiful days to come. i sat in the patch of sun my window let in today for a good thirty minutes before the sun made it's progress and no longer shined directly in my house. it felt so nice to feel it warm my back. i just sat there in the silence and let it warm me.
i am ready to go to the pool. i am ready for warm days, barbecues, and the sounds of summer. perhaps due to my beginning (being born in the summer), i have always felt something special about this particular season...and not just because i don't work the whole summer. i like the food, sounds, music, activities, and coatlessness (cool made-up word) of summer. it is what i come back to.
my whole self screams today... i am ready.
Monday, April 13, 2009
war on stress
do you ever have those moments where you feel so lost in the craziness that you don't know how to put it into words, to vocalize it. it makes it more real. and although i know writing would help, sometimes i just have to let things be. i have to let them sink in.
breath in.
breath out.
get up in the morning.
get the job done.
i think i can do this because i know that at some moment i will break through just getting by and be able to vocalize it.
life has been a little stressful and it has taken all my energy not to let that stress overtake me. i am proud to say that at this moment, stress may have won a few battles but i am winning the war.
i have once again received a Reduction in Force letter which is a really politically correct way of saying... guess what...we don't have money, so you may not have a job starting in June. now, we are only giving you this letter to cover our backs cause we might have a little more money than we thought but we aren't sure. so in june we are going to deposit your last pay check and then we will see. your benefits will end too. but we will see. this has happened every year i have taught but this year it seems a little bit harder due to the fact that nine percent of the U.S. is unemployed.
it is kind of a daily battle to be grateful for the wonderful things i have, to save up enough money for at least three months rent, to live daily with the knowledge that cut backs are most definitely needed. in reality, i am doing just fine. i am probably faring better than most people. i have support, i have people who believe in me, and i have a job until june. i am a creative person who can think of ways to make a living and who has the resources to do so.
i also have a plan. it's called move to a beach in mexico and live in a shack plan. hey all options are viable at this time.
i am concerned about the health of a beloved grandmother, i am facing the realities of mortality in loved ones, worried slightly about members of my family without employment, and the stress added by the dreaded standardized tests.
a friend says that stress comes from wanting to control something that we can't possibly have control over.
well lets see. death...nope, no control there. unemployment of loved ones. nope. and Arizona Instruments to Measure Standards. Definitely no control.
So i asked myself this morning. how do i deal? how do i get up every day and be okay.
i go to spin class with my good friend dana. we look at each other, tired as all get out at 5:30 in the morning and we add load and sweat.
i play yahtzee and escoba with justino and learn how to play futbol.
i read great books from friends.
i laugh with my students and make funny faces.
i go to yoga and try new poses.
i sing phantom of the opera at the top of my lungs in the school hallways.
i ride my bike.
i look at the wall with icons, gifts from friends, african purses, necklaces, reminders of the camino, necklaces my kids made me. i smile.
i go dancing.
take late night walks with justino.
talk to my mom on the phone a lot...sometimes every few minutes...just to say one thing and then to hang up. only to remember something and call again.
call grandma to chat.
wear jewelry that reminds me of people i love and who love me.
i take pictures.
ignore the check engine light on my car.
go to my efm class.
eat cheap but good homemade mexican food from mi novio.
talk to my nieces and nephew on the phone.
make oatmeal dinner rolls.
eat popsicles.
lay on the couch and fall asleep in the sun.
so needless to say. this is my way of reminding myself that i am winning. that despite the difficulties of this time. stress does nothing but make me sick, freak me out, cause me to eat junk food, later regret it, eat more junk food for feeling regretful in the first place. it is a vicious cycle.
i am okay.
i have an abundance of gratefulness.
i have an abundance of love.
i have abundance. period.
i leave you with one of my favorite prayers from the compline service in the book of common prayer:
keep watch, dear lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.
breath in.
breath out.
get up in the morning.
get the job done.
i think i can do this because i know that at some moment i will break through just getting by and be able to vocalize it.
life has been a little stressful and it has taken all my energy not to let that stress overtake me. i am proud to say that at this moment, stress may have won a few battles but i am winning the war.
i have once again received a Reduction in Force letter which is a really politically correct way of saying... guess what...we don't have money, so you may not have a job starting in June. now, we are only giving you this letter to cover our backs cause we might have a little more money than we thought but we aren't sure. so in june we are going to deposit your last pay check and then we will see. your benefits will end too. but we will see. this has happened every year i have taught but this year it seems a little bit harder due to the fact that nine percent of the U.S. is unemployed.
it is kind of a daily battle to be grateful for the wonderful things i have, to save up enough money for at least three months rent, to live daily with the knowledge that cut backs are most definitely needed. in reality, i am doing just fine. i am probably faring better than most people. i have support, i have people who believe in me, and i have a job until june. i am a creative person who can think of ways to make a living and who has the resources to do so.
i also have a plan. it's called move to a beach in mexico and live in a shack plan. hey all options are viable at this time.
i am concerned about the health of a beloved grandmother, i am facing the realities of mortality in loved ones, worried slightly about members of my family without employment, and the stress added by the dreaded standardized tests.
a friend says that stress comes from wanting to control something that we can't possibly have control over.
well lets see. death...nope, no control there. unemployment of loved ones. nope. and Arizona Instruments to Measure Standards. Definitely no control.
So i asked myself this morning. how do i deal? how do i get up every day and be okay.
i go to spin class with my good friend dana. we look at each other, tired as all get out at 5:30 in the morning and we add load and sweat.
i play yahtzee and escoba with justino and learn how to play futbol.
i read great books from friends.
i laugh with my students and make funny faces.
i go to yoga and try new poses.
i sing phantom of the opera at the top of my lungs in the school hallways.
i ride my bike.
i look at the wall with icons, gifts from friends, african purses, necklaces, reminders of the camino, necklaces my kids made me. i smile.
i go dancing.
take late night walks with justino.
talk to my mom on the phone a lot...sometimes every few minutes...just to say one thing and then to hang up. only to remember something and call again.
call grandma to chat.
wear jewelry that reminds me of people i love and who love me.
i take pictures.
ignore the check engine light on my car.
go to my efm class.
eat cheap but good homemade mexican food from mi novio.
talk to my nieces and nephew on the phone.
make oatmeal dinner rolls.
eat popsicles.
lay on the couch and fall asleep in the sun.
so needless to say. this is my way of reminding myself that i am winning. that despite the difficulties of this time. stress does nothing but make me sick, freak me out, cause me to eat junk food, later regret it, eat more junk food for feeling regretful in the first place. it is a vicious cycle.
i am okay.
i have an abundance of gratefulness.
i have an abundance of love.
i have abundance. period.
i leave you with one of my favorite prayers from the compline service in the book of common prayer:
keep watch, dear lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
read it with your eyes
and do not judge, he said as we stopped outside the Seri community in Punta Chueca, Mexico.
just read it, don't judge it.
such powerful words to hear before any such trip.
i recently took a four day trip to Mexico. a few posts back i talked about my expectations of the trip. recently i read a quote that i will paraphrase and in doing so will butcher but you will get the idea. it goes something like this... when you travel to another place for a week, you will come home and have a whole lot of solutions for what they (in the other country) are doing wrong and how to fix it. if you go for a month you will write about your experience through your own lens of perspective. but if you go for a year you will write nothing at all.
although i was in mexico for only four short days, it felt like i was there for a lot longer and on my arrival back home i thought to myself....
damn, i don't know. there are no answers.
so i have a few disclaimers for this post.
1. this is only one view of a very small part of a small experience in mexico. although i have been multiple times, it is always a different experience and it in no way reflects all of mexico or even close to all of anything.
2. it is from my point of view.
3. i can't write about all of it because it is either too personal and i can't put words to it or i feel like there are a parts of it i don't want to share because they are not my story.
4. i have no answers.
the purpose of the trip was to go to parts of Sonora, Mexico with a group of teachers from Phoenix and Tucson to experience culture and education in Mexico in order to understand our students, parents, and Mexican culture a little bit better.
the first few days were spent visiting classrooms at different kinds of schools. the last few days were really focused on getting a small glimpse of sonoran, mexican, and indigenous culture. although i am an educator and i learned a lot about education in mexico, the most powerful experiences for me were the last few days. we drove out to part of the Seri community and visited Altar, which is the major staging place for immigrants coming to the U.S.
i have taken many trips in my lifetime but none that left me as speechless. to be honest i feel a really deep pain, a profound longing for people to become aware, for people to understand each other. i feel a sadness that i feel has yet to manifest itself completely. i feel overwhelmed. i feel a crazy mixed up sort of grace and faith running through the lives of many people who are seemingly different and yet the same. i feel the complexities of it all. and i don't even live there or live in it.
as one person said on the way home, i can leave it all, while some people live in it everyday.
i do not write this with a sense of pity. there are so many beautiful things about mexico. those of you who know me well, know how intricately i am tied to it and love parts of it. but in the midst of the beauty there are some deeply disturbing, perplexing and dark things that are inextricably linked to all who live and work in mexico and the united states.
i know very little about the seri people and claim no such abundance of knowledge. they have lived in the sonaran area for over 2,000 years and have been largely nomadic hunters and gathers until the spanish arrived. they used to inhabit tiburon island, the largest island in mexico, until it was deemed a wildlife refuge. they can no longer live there but it is still part of their land. this is an odd thing to say about a people who lived off the land and with the land all over sonora, who probably never believed they owned the land to begin with. they own the fishing rights off of the coast there and have survived many years of conflicts with the spanish and later mexicans. they seem to be a resilient people. when we arrived the women rushed toward the van with their necklaces, bracelets, baskets, and ironwood carvings to sell. their baskets are incredible and woven tightly with beautiful designs. i bought several necklaces there. we went with someone who has a connection with the seri and were able to tour the town. they offer education via satellite there in a small building. this brings up many questions of what really is a viable and important education for the Seri children. it brings up questions about assimilation, conceptions, the difference in the definition of education. all of these are further ponderings for another post.
our trip to Altar was...
well. i really don't know what to write. i feel as if that is another post for another day.
just read it, don't judge it.
such powerful words to hear before any such trip.
i recently took a four day trip to Mexico. a few posts back i talked about my expectations of the trip. recently i read a quote that i will paraphrase and in doing so will butcher but you will get the idea. it goes something like this... when you travel to another place for a week, you will come home and have a whole lot of solutions for what they (in the other country) are doing wrong and how to fix it. if you go for a month you will write about your experience through your own lens of perspective. but if you go for a year you will write nothing at all.
although i was in mexico for only four short days, it felt like i was there for a lot longer and on my arrival back home i thought to myself....
damn, i don't know. there are no answers.
so i have a few disclaimers for this post.
1. this is only one view of a very small part of a small experience in mexico. although i have been multiple times, it is always a different experience and it in no way reflects all of mexico or even close to all of anything.
2. it is from my point of view.
3. i can't write about all of it because it is either too personal and i can't put words to it or i feel like there are a parts of it i don't want to share because they are not my story.
4. i have no answers.
the purpose of the trip was to go to parts of Sonora, Mexico with a group of teachers from Phoenix and Tucson to experience culture and education in Mexico in order to understand our students, parents, and Mexican culture a little bit better.
the first few days were spent visiting classrooms at different kinds of schools. the last few days were really focused on getting a small glimpse of sonoran, mexican, and indigenous culture. although i am an educator and i learned a lot about education in mexico, the most powerful experiences for me were the last few days. we drove out to part of the Seri community and visited Altar, which is the major staging place for immigrants coming to the U.S.
i have taken many trips in my lifetime but none that left me as speechless. to be honest i feel a really deep pain, a profound longing for people to become aware, for people to understand each other. i feel a sadness that i feel has yet to manifest itself completely. i feel overwhelmed. i feel a crazy mixed up sort of grace and faith running through the lives of many people who are seemingly different and yet the same. i feel the complexities of it all. and i don't even live there or live in it.
as one person said on the way home, i can leave it all, while some people live in it everyday.
i do not write this with a sense of pity. there are so many beautiful things about mexico. those of you who know me well, know how intricately i am tied to it and love parts of it. but in the midst of the beauty there are some deeply disturbing, perplexing and dark things that are inextricably linked to all who live and work in mexico and the united states.
i know very little about the seri people and claim no such abundance of knowledge. they have lived in the sonaran area for over 2,000 years and have been largely nomadic hunters and gathers until the spanish arrived. they used to inhabit tiburon island, the largest island in mexico, until it was deemed a wildlife refuge. they can no longer live there but it is still part of their land. this is an odd thing to say about a people who lived off the land and with the land all over sonora, who probably never believed they owned the land to begin with. they own the fishing rights off of the coast there and have survived many years of conflicts with the spanish and later mexicans. they seem to be a resilient people. when we arrived the women rushed toward the van with their necklaces, bracelets, baskets, and ironwood carvings to sell. their baskets are incredible and woven tightly with beautiful designs. i bought several necklaces there. we went with someone who has a connection with the seri and were able to tour the town. they offer education via satellite there in a small building. this brings up many questions of what really is a viable and important education for the Seri children. it brings up questions about assimilation, conceptions, the difference in the definition of education. all of these are further ponderings for another post.
our trip to Altar was...
well. i really don't know what to write. i feel as if that is another post for another day.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
to love is to be vulnerable
i go to a class almost every wednesday night called education for ministry, efm for short. i think it should be called education for life instead of ministry. it is a rather hard class to explain because any explanation minimizes what we actually do in class.
we sit around an octagonal table and listen to each other. we listen to our hopes, fears, laugh at each other, sing songs, sit in silence and recognize the divinity in each of us. it is one of the most life giving groups i have ever been a part of.
we talk about war, devastation, redemption, hope, love, jesus, economic crisis, marriage, divorce, relationships, gandhi, civil rights, our jobs, our callings, bob marley and just about anything else you can think of. it is challenging and thought provoking and calls me into my own divinity.
it makes me accountable to my own divinity.
yesterday we got into a discussion about what it really means to love and to be loved. in some of the reading we did there was the following quote from C.S. Lewis. i am amazed at the clarity and truth of this quote.
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in a casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is hell."
stepping outside the certain stigmas and confines that words like damnation, love, heaven, and hell hold, i would say this statement rings true of what happens when we are paralyzed by the fear of being broken- being separated from that which brings wholeness.
brokenness bringing wholeness. now there is a thought.
we sit around an octagonal table and listen to each other. we listen to our hopes, fears, laugh at each other, sing songs, sit in silence and recognize the divinity in each of us. it is one of the most life giving groups i have ever been a part of.
we talk about war, devastation, redemption, hope, love, jesus, economic crisis, marriage, divorce, relationships, gandhi, civil rights, our jobs, our callings, bob marley and just about anything else you can think of. it is challenging and thought provoking and calls me into my own divinity.
it makes me accountable to my own divinity.
yesterday we got into a discussion about what it really means to love and to be loved. in some of the reading we did there was the following quote from C.S. Lewis. i am amazed at the clarity and truth of this quote.
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in a casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is hell."
stepping outside the certain stigmas and confines that words like damnation, love, heaven, and hell hold, i would say this statement rings true of what happens when we are paralyzed by the fear of being broken- being separated from that which brings wholeness.
brokenness bringing wholeness. now there is a thought.
the splendor of the grand canyon
my cousins from kansas came to visit and on monday we went to the grand canyon. friends i tell you that it doesn't matter how many times i go to the grand canyon, it never ceases to amaze me. i have maybe gone a good twenty or more times to the canyon and i always see something new or different.
this time we drove around the south rim and did all the regular stuff and then headed out the east rim. i had never been to desert view before but the watchtower was amazing and the east rim gives a view of the length of the canyon instead of it's width.
breathtaking.
the cloudy day was perfect for viewing the colors. they weren't too washed out. i love the reds, grays, oranges, browns, yellows, blues, and greens of the canyon. despite all that is going on in this crazy mixed up materialistic world, the canyon reminds me that change is inevitable, whether slow or fast. change happens. and i always have a choice as to whether i will embrace change or not. i am not philosophizing that all change is good, this, that, or the other. i am simply saying that so often i forget that even in the face of change i have a choice.
i have a choice to fear, to bring down, to conquer, to accept, to be vulnerable, to ignore. i have all these choices. and yet i think we so often just fall into the negativity that change can bring or the dread.
the canyon is a peaceful place for me. it is a place to stop, breath, and collect myself. to remind myself that i am a part of the family of things. that i too am change. on any given day, my colors change too. some days more red is revealed and other days more gray.
i had such a wonderful time getting to know my cousins in an even more intimate way. the canyon draws that out in people. i was able to connect with them on a level i am not sure i have before. we had fun, laughed, were exhausted, and were silent. i love sharing something that means so much to me with others. it is a revelation of a part of me that i am not sure everyone gets to see.
it was another blessed grand canyon experience.
Friday, February 6, 2009
missions
yesterday a colleague and i drove south to go to a conference. we were accepted a few months ago to participate in a Sonora Field Study. we have the opportunity to go to Sonora, Mexico for four days and visit classrooms there in order to gain a better understanding of the mexican education system and the culture behind education there.
as many of you know i work at a school with a high immigrant population and latino population. this kind of experience is invaluable to my understanding of how these students and families perceive and value education. again, it is not about rights and wrongs it is about points of view, the way you are raised, your religious experiences, the expectations of family and culture, and so much more.
missions.
it is my mission as an educator to understand these cultural ties. to understand them and not take them away from students in order to assimilate them completely into the united states point of view. although many might see this as a vital part of education, it is not one that i hold- at least not explicitly. i am a part of that assimilation process rather i like it or not, but i try to open my classroom community to the space of differences and understanding. tolerance some call it.
before the conference i went to one of padre kinos missions south of tucson. although missions have a mixed and not always great reputation, i find there is much in those spaces to think on. they too were part of a great assimilation practice by europe and spain to convert those "pesky natives" to proper christians. however, i think this too cannot be simplified into rights and wrongs.
what i found fascinating is the incorporation of the to'hono odom people and christianity. instead of completely wiping out any trace of who these people are, you will find subtle instances inside the mission of their presence. i am not in anyway promoting the assimilation or annihilation of culture, it happened. i am however attempting to understand the clash of two or three distinctive cultures. it happens still.
the workshop i went to was incredible. we discussed economic and political issues that impact education in mexico in order to understand the complexities of the system. when we go to mexico in a few weeks, we will be visiting several different classrooms, a technical school that works on an oyster farm, and the seri community in punta chueca. we will also visit altar which is a major staging point for migrant coming across the border.
these are issues of humanity. first and foremost these are not political issues, economic issues, or religious issues. these are conditions of being human. of breathing. of wanting what it is that you think will make you and your family whole. yes all things are integrated and political, economic, and spiritual. all wrapped into one intricate beating heart. yet, we cannot forget or deny the fact that we are all human. all trying to live out our own missions, good intentions and all.
i can't wait for this experience. i can't wait to move past romanticizing it. to see past what people want you to see but into the depth of the reality and beauty of a different way of living.
i know more will come of this.
i feel it in my bones.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
mental strength
for the past year i have been dragging my body out of bed at 5:00 in the morning three times a week to go to a spinning class (riding a stationary bike like you are really riding up to Snowbowl). it is a great workout and a great start to my day. i usually arrive at school hyper and bouncing around my classroom. my students look at me like i am crazy, especially on mondays.
yesterday during the middle of the fifth time around of an eight minute ride, the instructor said something that i am still thinking about today. she asked (really she yelled it breathlessly) "how is your mental strength?" She continued with "not just right now, but during the day, during work, during your time with loved ones...how is your mental strength?"
that really got me thinking. how is my mental endurance? when i am at school, i can tell when i am fatigued physically and mentally because words come out of my mouth that i don't mean. i get mentally tired of dealing with things and so i become cranky or frustrated more easily.
this morning when i woke up, i asked my mind how it was feeling today. groggily it replied, well okay but i've been better. these are strange months for me. january and february last for a long time. there are fewer breaks at school. the stress of state tests that determine if you actually taught something this year gets overwhelming at times. the kids and i are cooped up inside more because it is too cold for outside recess. these are long months. i think i have always felt that way, even as a kid.
so this morning after i checked in with my brain, i made a mental list of all the things that keep my mind from giving in to the doldrums of repetition and monotony. i am reading a good book, i am writing more, i am staying active during the days, i am eating good food, i am sleeping well at night, and i get to see some family soon. i laugh almost everyday. my mind felt better already.
it is hard to extract one piece of me from the rest. so when i am mentally strong, i tend to be physically, spiritually, and emotionally stronger. i tend to persevere and hold out a little bit longer. and my students seem to notice it too.
the question is... how do i relate that to my students? how do i motivate them or help them to remain mentally strong? especially during these times of testing and monotonous tasks.
i will think on it.
yesterday during the middle of the fifth time around of an eight minute ride, the instructor said something that i am still thinking about today. she asked (really she yelled it breathlessly) "how is your mental strength?" She continued with "not just right now, but during the day, during work, during your time with loved ones...how is your mental strength?"
that really got me thinking. how is my mental endurance? when i am at school, i can tell when i am fatigued physically and mentally because words come out of my mouth that i don't mean. i get mentally tired of dealing with things and so i become cranky or frustrated more easily.
this morning when i woke up, i asked my mind how it was feeling today. groggily it replied, well okay but i've been better. these are strange months for me. january and february last for a long time. there are fewer breaks at school. the stress of state tests that determine if you actually taught something this year gets overwhelming at times. the kids and i are cooped up inside more because it is too cold for outside recess. these are long months. i think i have always felt that way, even as a kid.
so this morning after i checked in with my brain, i made a mental list of all the things that keep my mind from giving in to the doldrums of repetition and monotony. i am reading a good book, i am writing more, i am staying active during the days, i am eating good food, i am sleeping well at night, and i get to see some family soon. i laugh almost everyday. my mind felt better already.
it is hard to extract one piece of me from the rest. so when i am mentally strong, i tend to be physically, spiritually, and emotionally stronger. i tend to persevere and hold out a little bit longer. and my students seem to notice it too.
the question is... how do i relate that to my students? how do i motivate them or help them to remain mentally strong? especially during these times of testing and monotonous tasks.
i will think on it.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
a trip into the past
"you have not been singing lately." commented one of my students this week. "why?" she asked.
good question. my students have a way of asking meaningful and thought provoking questions.
dang it.
for a great while i have been avoiding parts of my past. i have neglected to honor that part of myself that found beauty in things that now i find slightly repugnant. for example, certain genres of music.
i listened to a genre of music that i have found particularly distasteful in recent years. in order to reconcile myself, i took a long drive a week ago late at night down a pine tree laden road. the sky glowed orange from the lights and snow fall and i looked out over a great expanse of nothingness. there are no street lights on this road, and at first it was exciting. later fear like most things took hold.
fear of being alone.
fear of being in a silent space.
fear of being open to a part of me that i haven't let come out and play for a long time.
living in an apartment has its downfalls because there is something about singing at the top of my lungs that is a release for me. i am sure my neighbors disagree, because of this i rarely sing in my home. so in my car, i sang. loud, slow, fast, off key sometimes. the lyrics came back quickly and my mumbling turned into the flow of verses.
as i sang songs and changed cds, i caught myself saying "i don't believe in these lyrics at all. i don't live my life that way anymore." i tried to let this go and just sing the beautiful melodies and listen to the heartfelt sincerity of the artist.
i realized that in that moment, alone in my car, i didn't have to agree. i needed to sing. i needed to sing beautiful melodies. i needed to allow that release to take place. i didn't need to justify my singing those particular songs or even like them. i just needed to sing.
after many minutes of darkness and lyrical being, i pulled off the road to turn around. the pine trees were gone, and in the deepest sense of darkness, i looked out over what i knew to be a lake. i really couldn't see much of it at all. cloud cover blocked the moon and stars but i knew it rested out there.
it is a lot like parts of the path i have walked. i can't see it well, it is rather undefined, and yet i know it is there. i sense its presence like the calm waters of the lake. it is dark and mysterious and a little scary, but a part of who i am, a part of the journey that has led me to the now.
i think the past cannot be completely discarded or forgotten. it can be a lot of things including forgiven, but not forgotten.
these lyrics still have much to tell us of who we are, and who we are becoming. i think we are most at peace when we accept the undefined mystery of our path and be who we are, who we have been created to be.
good question. my students have a way of asking meaningful and thought provoking questions.
dang it.
for a great while i have been avoiding parts of my past. i have neglected to honor that part of myself that found beauty in things that now i find slightly repugnant. for example, certain genres of music.
i listened to a genre of music that i have found particularly distasteful in recent years. in order to reconcile myself, i took a long drive a week ago late at night down a pine tree laden road. the sky glowed orange from the lights and snow fall and i looked out over a great expanse of nothingness. there are no street lights on this road, and at first it was exciting. later fear like most things took hold.
fear of being alone.
fear of being in a silent space.
fear of being open to a part of me that i haven't let come out and play for a long time.
living in an apartment has its downfalls because there is something about singing at the top of my lungs that is a release for me. i am sure my neighbors disagree, because of this i rarely sing in my home. so in my car, i sang. loud, slow, fast, off key sometimes. the lyrics came back quickly and my mumbling turned into the flow of verses.
as i sang songs and changed cds, i caught myself saying "i don't believe in these lyrics at all. i don't live my life that way anymore." i tried to let this go and just sing the beautiful melodies and listen to the heartfelt sincerity of the artist.
i realized that in that moment, alone in my car, i didn't have to agree. i needed to sing. i needed to sing beautiful melodies. i needed to allow that release to take place. i didn't need to justify my singing those particular songs or even like them. i just needed to sing.
after many minutes of darkness and lyrical being, i pulled off the road to turn around. the pine trees were gone, and in the deepest sense of darkness, i looked out over what i knew to be a lake. i really couldn't see much of it at all. cloud cover blocked the moon and stars but i knew it rested out there.
it is a lot like parts of the path i have walked. i can't see it well, it is rather undefined, and yet i know it is there. i sense its presence like the calm waters of the lake. it is dark and mysterious and a little scary, but a part of who i am, a part of the journey that has led me to the now.
i think the past cannot be completely discarded or forgotten. it can be a lot of things including forgiven, but not forgotten.
these lyrics still have much to tell us of who we are, and who we are becoming. i think we are most at peace when we accept the undefined mystery of our path and be who we are, who we have been created to be.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
codex calixtinus
in the move kung fu panda, panda is stuffing his mouth with sacred fruit and the wise and ancient turtle makes a comment to him about letting the past go, letting the future wait, and to remain in the present. he says, that is why it is called the present because it is a gift.
yes, i frequently take insight from cartoons.
i have been rearranging my apartment today to make room for new things and to get rid of old things. in the midst of moving hundreds of books, i found something i had been missing for a long time. i found my paper passport from when i walked the camino de santiago and a map my dad made on the computer to mark my journey across spain.
it seems like long ago that i made that 500 mile journey by foot, and yet it seems like yesterday too. sometimes i forget and then i see my walking stick, or my knees and back will hurt just like they did in spain. or i will see pictures or hear from a camino friend.
i had been missing my passport for some time now, and tonight i finally found it. the passport gets stamped at every place you stop and stay along the pilgrimage. i unfolded the worn pages and it all came flooding back. i sat on the floor in my room and started crying. i saw the stamps from all the places i had stayed and a peace overcame over me. the pilgrimage causes you to laugh, cry, shout, sing, and be silent all in the same breath. pretty incredible and unbelievable.
the camino
the pilgrimage
is neither distinctively past, present, nor future. it is all three. it calls me to be present to the journey of the past, to not fear the future, and to be as attentive to the now as i can be.
when i most need to be reminded that i am whole and loved, or to be tranquilo, i will dream about the camino, find my lost passport, or wear the boots i wore then. inevitably i always cry.
on the last page of the passport there is the following prayer. it is the pilgrim's prayer from the 12th century. i share it with you now, so you too can bask in its "pure awesomeness" according to po the panda.
God, You called your servant Abraham from Ur in Chaldea, watching over him in all his wanderings, and guided the Hebrew people as they crossed the desert. Guard these your children who, for love of your name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela.
Be their companion on the way,
their guide at the crossroads,
their strength in weariness,
their defense in dangers,
their shelter on the path,
their shade in the heat,
their light in darkness,
their comfort in discouragement,
and the firmness of their intentions;
that through your guidance,
they may arrive safely at the end of their journey and,
enriched with graces and virtues,
may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy.
Amen.
yes, i frequently take insight from cartoons.
i have been rearranging my apartment today to make room for new things and to get rid of old things. in the midst of moving hundreds of books, i found something i had been missing for a long time. i found my paper passport from when i walked the camino de santiago and a map my dad made on the computer to mark my journey across spain.
it seems like long ago that i made that 500 mile journey by foot, and yet it seems like yesterday too. sometimes i forget and then i see my walking stick, or my knees and back will hurt just like they did in spain. or i will see pictures or hear from a camino friend.
i had been missing my passport for some time now, and tonight i finally found it. the passport gets stamped at every place you stop and stay along the pilgrimage. i unfolded the worn pages and it all came flooding back. i sat on the floor in my room and started crying. i saw the stamps from all the places i had stayed and a peace overcame over me. the pilgrimage causes you to laugh, cry, shout, sing, and be silent all in the same breath. pretty incredible and unbelievable.
the camino
the pilgrimage
is neither distinctively past, present, nor future. it is all three. it calls me to be present to the journey of the past, to not fear the future, and to be as attentive to the now as i can be.
when i most need to be reminded that i am whole and loved, or to be tranquilo, i will dream about the camino, find my lost passport, or wear the boots i wore then. inevitably i always cry.
on the last page of the passport there is the following prayer. it is the pilgrim's prayer from the 12th century. i share it with you now, so you too can bask in its "pure awesomeness" according to po the panda.
God, You called your servant Abraham from Ur in Chaldea, watching over him in all his wanderings, and guided the Hebrew people as they crossed the desert. Guard these your children who, for love of your name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela.
Be their companion on the way,
their guide at the crossroads,
their strength in weariness,
their defense in dangers,
their shelter on the path,
their shade in the heat,
their light in darkness,
their comfort in discouragement,
and the firmness of their intentions;
that through your guidance,
they may arrive safely at the end of their journey and,
enriched with graces and virtues,
may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy.
Amen.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
America's Song
last tuesday i made everyone with hispanic, latino, native american, and african american blood wait outside the classroom. i told them that they wouldn't be able to attend classes that day.
i had two students left.
this was the only way i could think of to really show students what segregation must have felt like and still feels like today. they were shocked. we read and then watched dr. martin luther king jr,'s i have a dream speech, followed by the inauguration of our 44th president.
i wanted the students to understand that the people who have gone before paved the way for them and that they are paving the way for the people who come after them.
almost all of them had never seen an inauguration, seen pictures of washington d.c., or understood the civil rights movement. we sat in the back of the room with linked arms and listened to two different versions of we shall overcome, closed our eyes, and imagined being in the streets of selma, alabama.
i live and breathe diversity every day in my classroom because of my students and it makes an inexplicable energy course through my veins when i have the honor of teaching these children of the ways of people who have believed in something greater than the individual and made a difference in this world- people who stayed in a system of corruption, greed, and hatred and fought with peace and grace.
it's why i stay in public education.
i love the song above because it is one of the first songs about the u.s. that i have heard for a long time that didn't say we are better than everybody else. it is simple and reflects the hope that so many of us feel and need in this time.
scary full potential
the other night in yoga, i attempted to do something i refer to as damn hard. i attempted L pose which is this insane pose where you make your body into a ninety degree angle (mine is more like a 105 degree angle with a saggy middle) with your feet on the wall and your hands supporting you.
no this picture is not me, and i mainly chose it for the awesome 80s leg warmers. i could only wish to be so cool.
so when i do the L pose my arms shake like a mini earthquake is occurring right under my arms. after a somewhat more successful L pose experience (my yoga teacher held my hips up) we attempted to do a handstand. a lot easier but i encountered a funny thing.
fear.
it makes me want to laugh out loud now. fear. in the moments after attempting an assisted handstand, we had to try one on our own. i got in the right position, tried to kick up my feet, got all excited about doing it, and then that damn funny fear got in my way. it invaded my brain and momentarily paralyzed my body. i couldn't move.
in those short moments i thought, why am i so afraid? there is a wall near me, it is not like i am going to completely fall over. the instructor began talking about rooting into our full potential and it hit me. i bet this is what my students feel like when they come face to face (but not upside down) with their truest potential.
it is scary to imagine ourselves more powerful, more focused, more aligned, more in tune with who our truest selves are. when we come face to face with our fullest potential, what do we do? run the other way. at least that is what i tend to do.
our fullest potential means that we have taken the risk to be okay with failure. it means we do not give any excuses for not being our best and already whole selves. as a younger self, i used to make up excuses for not doing well at something. the weather, hurt wrists, not enough sleep, you name it. somehow i couldn't come face to face with failure or the fact that i was not perfect (in the sense that i did everything right.)
i have not been practicing yoga very long. and to tell you the truth i am not that great at it, but i realize every time i walk into the studio that being great at it is not the point, not even close to the point. embracing my whole self, fear, and the instinct to run from my fullest potential is exactly what it is about right now. i have to let go of my need for perfection which is really just another way to run from me.
there is a lot of fear in the world due to money. both far and close to home. i think about what it will take to live with less- what it will take to redefine priorities, and to perhaps lose the job i love so much. then i think about the handstand. i have a choice, do the pose or not, run or not, embrace it all and not allow the fear to dominate my life or the way i interact with people i love and the strangers around me
or not.
all this in a five minute pose.
damn yoga.
damn potential.
photo is compliments of elsie's yoga found from a random google search.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
words and how we use them
our words hold great power.
it amazes me as i scan my eyes across my classroom how much power we all hold in our words and gazes. one look at a kid (okay adults too) can make or break their day. the tone of voice can make all the difference.
i find myself these days really concentrating on how things come out of my mouth. i ask myself what is the desired outcome of what i say. this intention on what i say and how i say it has genuinely made all the difference in the classroom lately.
i am more content and focused on my work.
the students are more content.
we are all just getting along a lot better.
there are many schools of thought on how to run your classroom, how to manage it. i think it all comes down to what works for you and what is good for the kids. my room runs like a community. we recognize the individual but also recognize that the actions of the individual effect the community too. whenever i redirect a student, i try to explain to him/her why i am asking him/her to do something. i figure if the students understand why, it might actually make sense and stick with them.
this takes an incredible amount of patience, understanding, intention, and listening. several of those things are not always my strong points. i have found this week that the intention or rather striving for it, has caused me to have more patience and a better understanding.
often what the kids are saying is not what they really mean. they are not talking about someone stealing their pencil, they are talking about the very core of their person not being accepted because someone stole from them. rarely does a student tattle just to get someone else in trouble, they are saying, look at me, notice me.
it can be challenging to acknowledge and know what every one of my twenty five students needs to feel and be whole. some days i come home and lay down on the couch and just sleep for two hours. i don't sleep because i taught a hard math lesson or writing was strenuous. i sleep because i hold in my hand the mental and emotional (dare i say spiritual) well being of twenty five uniquely individual beings.
every look, every gaze makes a difference.
some days that makes me smile. some days it makes me want to take a fourteen hour nap.
it amazes me as i scan my eyes across my classroom how much power we all hold in our words and gazes. one look at a kid (okay adults too) can make or break their day. the tone of voice can make all the difference.
i find myself these days really concentrating on how things come out of my mouth. i ask myself what is the desired outcome of what i say. this intention on what i say and how i say it has genuinely made all the difference in the classroom lately.
i am more content and focused on my work.
the students are more content.
we are all just getting along a lot better.
there are many schools of thought on how to run your classroom, how to manage it. i think it all comes down to what works for you and what is good for the kids. my room runs like a community. we recognize the individual but also recognize that the actions of the individual effect the community too. whenever i redirect a student, i try to explain to him/her why i am asking him/her to do something. i figure if the students understand why, it might actually make sense and stick with them.
this takes an incredible amount of patience, understanding, intention, and listening. several of those things are not always my strong points. i have found this week that the intention or rather striving for it, has caused me to have more patience and a better understanding.
often what the kids are saying is not what they really mean. they are not talking about someone stealing their pencil, they are talking about the very core of their person not being accepted because someone stole from them. rarely does a student tattle just to get someone else in trouble, they are saying, look at me, notice me.
it can be challenging to acknowledge and know what every one of my twenty five students needs to feel and be whole. some days i come home and lay down on the couch and just sleep for two hours. i don't sleep because i taught a hard math lesson or writing was strenuous. i sleep because i hold in my hand the mental and emotional (dare i say spiritual) well being of twenty five uniquely individual beings.
every look, every gaze makes a difference.
some days that makes me smile. some days it makes me want to take a fourteen hour nap.
Friday, January 9, 2009
it's wrong and it's right
i generally rant and rave about education. sometimes the job can be so overwhelming and misunderstood. the kids are really the reason most people stay in the profession. it is not like people stay because they think of advancement, pay raises, travel to exotic places, or christmas bonuses.
we stay because we walk into broken down classrooms everyday and turn them into magical places where kids are safe for seven hours, where they can learn and move out of their current space, and truly believe in themselves. there are still many good merits of public education but they are lost in the midst of politics, not enough funding, and disbelief in anything related to testing. people read tests results in the newspaper and look little past failing, under performing, or excelling to understand what makes a good school or what remains to be praised in public education.
there are moments where education can be extremely depressing and time consuming. yet, there are shining moments, where as a teacher i have the opportunity to break through all that is saddening, to what is at the heart of education for me. when my students understand that they are in my classroom not just to learn to read, or do math problems that make their head hurt, but that they are there to continue their journeys as life long learners who can think critically and make their own decisions, it is as if all else fades away.
this happened this week. we are beginning to read a story from a reader we have in class about orangutans in borneo. i found several websites of information, videos, facts, and articles to support what we are reading. several groups read small books about jane goodall as an introduction to conservation, preservation, and the study of primates. one group in my class needs to be challenged beyond the fourth grade level. their reading levels are higher than most and this is the group that can become easily bored. so i decided to challenge them with an eighth grade reading level or higher article on the deforestation of borneo.
we began reading and conquered words such as raucous, primatologists, and humidity. we discussed and looked at pictures of deforestation and talked about how this impacts the orangutans. we talked about the need for jobs in indonesia and malaysia, how people needed to survive, how larger countries pay for the deforestation to have paper, chopsticks, and yes, garden furniture. the students were shocked.
i was peppered with questions. "why do people buy these things?" "how do the orangutans feel about this?" "Are zoos bad?" "Why don't people have jobs?" "don't people think about more than just themselves? you know, like about the orangutans or the trees?" "you mean the animals are just free, and wander around?" "do the trees grow back?" "if people cut down these trees, how do we breathe?"
i replied to all of them at once, these are good questions, ones you should keep asking. i don't have the answers to all of them, nor can i tell you what is right. and in the midst of all the questions, came one question that floored me.
"you mean that some things are right and wrong at the same time?"
the whole group was silent. they turned to look at this student and then back at me for an answer. i think they were quietly hoping i would say no. i replied, "yes. that is exactly what i mean."
suddenly their clearly defined and delineated world turned upside down and they realized that life was slightly more complicated than they ever imagined.
one student ended the conversation by saying, "i know another example of something that is right and wrong.
war."
i nodded unable to say much of anything.
out of the mouths of babes.
this is why i am an educator.
if these students can grow up understanding that things are both right and wrong and neither right or wrong, we've got some hope or at least a start.
we stay because we walk into broken down classrooms everyday and turn them into magical places where kids are safe for seven hours, where they can learn and move out of their current space, and truly believe in themselves. there are still many good merits of public education but they are lost in the midst of politics, not enough funding, and disbelief in anything related to testing. people read tests results in the newspaper and look little past failing, under performing, or excelling to understand what makes a good school or what remains to be praised in public education.
there are moments where education can be extremely depressing and time consuming. yet, there are shining moments, where as a teacher i have the opportunity to break through all that is saddening, to what is at the heart of education for me. when my students understand that they are in my classroom not just to learn to read, or do math problems that make their head hurt, but that they are there to continue their journeys as life long learners who can think critically and make their own decisions, it is as if all else fades away.
this happened this week. we are beginning to read a story from a reader we have in class about orangutans in borneo. i found several websites of information, videos, facts, and articles to support what we are reading. several groups read small books about jane goodall as an introduction to conservation, preservation, and the study of primates. one group in my class needs to be challenged beyond the fourth grade level. their reading levels are higher than most and this is the group that can become easily bored. so i decided to challenge them with an eighth grade reading level or higher article on the deforestation of borneo.
we began reading and conquered words such as raucous, primatologists, and humidity. we discussed and looked at pictures of deforestation and talked about how this impacts the orangutans. we talked about the need for jobs in indonesia and malaysia, how people needed to survive, how larger countries pay for the deforestation to have paper, chopsticks, and yes, garden furniture. the students were shocked.
i was peppered with questions. "why do people buy these things?" "how do the orangutans feel about this?" "Are zoos bad?" "Why don't people have jobs?" "don't people think about more than just themselves? you know, like about the orangutans or the trees?" "you mean the animals are just free, and wander around?" "do the trees grow back?" "if people cut down these trees, how do we breathe?"
i replied to all of them at once, these are good questions, ones you should keep asking. i don't have the answers to all of them, nor can i tell you what is right. and in the midst of all the questions, came one question that floored me.
"you mean that some things are right and wrong at the same time?"
the whole group was silent. they turned to look at this student and then back at me for an answer. i think they were quietly hoping i would say no. i replied, "yes. that is exactly what i mean."
suddenly their clearly defined and delineated world turned upside down and they realized that life was slightly more complicated than they ever imagined.
one student ended the conversation by saying, "i know another example of something that is right and wrong.
war."
i nodded unable to say much of anything.
out of the mouths of babes.
this is why i am an educator.
if these students can grow up understanding that things are both right and wrong and neither right or wrong, we've got some hope or at least a start.
rosca de los reyes
rosca de reyes
mexican hot chocolate
ay, ay, ay, i got the little plastic baby in my piece
the celebration is really the acknowledgement of the baby jesus. i am not sure exactly how this tradition got started, but there are little plastic babies in the rosca. when you cut the bread, if you get one of the plastic babies in your piece, something magical happens.
okay, not so magical. justino and i both got the babies in our piece and that meant that we are in charge of making a large carne asada dinner for our friends. usually the people with the baby have to make tamales, but everyone settled on the much easier carne asada. whew that is a relief for me.
we had to wait until 10:30 at night to celebrate since everyone was working. hence the tired face. it was fun to celebrate though and get another perspective on epiphany. i really love being able to be a part of the way other people celebrate. it brings a new understanding to some long held traditions.
Monday, January 5, 2009
my artists
today was the students and my first day back to school. it felt good to be back and see all of my students again. my students feel safe at school and had looks of relief to return to something expected and normal.
once a month a retired teacher comes into my classroom for masterpiece art. she teaches the students about certain art techniques and about the lives of famous artists. then the students have the opportunity to create their own masterpiece. she always incorporates music as well. it is one of my favorite activities all month. i sit with the students at their desks and create my own masterpiece. when i create something i feel the most whole. it is one of the few times in the day when i can truly sit down and just be. i am not walking around the room to make sure someone gets help, nor concerned about behavior. i sit and create as one with my students.
today the students listened to vivaldi's four seasons and classified famous pieces of art under headings of winter, spring, summer, fall. there are no right answers in masterpiece art. you feel. you listen. you respond. my students and i relax into a space where we are not forced to fill in bubbles or be right.
it takes the students a little while to feel okay in this space. they are so used to having to be right that they tentatively answer any question with the thought, "what if what i say is wrong." it is pure delight when thirty minutes into the activity they begin opening up. their true brilliance shines at the moment when nothing hinders their free thinking. suddenly descriptive language and feeling pours out of them and they surprise themselves. i love watching the transformation. it is what draws me to the classroom-this transformation.
we sat in small groups and drew with oil pastels and colored pencils our own landscapes. i drew an abstract windy, fall day. as i smudged the colors together with my index finger, i thought about how definitive school can be. no smudging lines here. yet, the very life force of these young people can not be simplified into straight, perfect lines. i felt proud of my students because they constantly struggle against the need to be closed. it is about survival. their own landscapes are sometimes bitterly scarred and much older than their nine and ten year old selves. yet they stretch and push themselves to live into the bitterness and come out on the other side.
i have rarely been more blessed than in the presence of these artists.
once a month a retired teacher comes into my classroom for masterpiece art. she teaches the students about certain art techniques and about the lives of famous artists. then the students have the opportunity to create their own masterpiece. she always incorporates music as well. it is one of my favorite activities all month. i sit with the students at their desks and create my own masterpiece. when i create something i feel the most whole. it is one of the few times in the day when i can truly sit down and just be. i am not walking around the room to make sure someone gets help, nor concerned about behavior. i sit and create as one with my students.
today the students listened to vivaldi's four seasons and classified famous pieces of art under headings of winter, spring, summer, fall. there are no right answers in masterpiece art. you feel. you listen. you respond. my students and i relax into a space where we are not forced to fill in bubbles or be right.
it takes the students a little while to feel okay in this space. they are so used to having to be right that they tentatively answer any question with the thought, "what if what i say is wrong." it is pure delight when thirty minutes into the activity they begin opening up. their true brilliance shines at the moment when nothing hinders their free thinking. suddenly descriptive language and feeling pours out of them and they surprise themselves. i love watching the transformation. it is what draws me to the classroom-this transformation.
we sat in small groups and drew with oil pastels and colored pencils our own landscapes. i drew an abstract windy, fall day. as i smudged the colors together with my index finger, i thought about how definitive school can be. no smudging lines here. yet, the very life force of these young people can not be simplified into straight, perfect lines. i felt proud of my students because they constantly struggle against the need to be closed. it is about survival. their own landscapes are sometimes bitterly scarred and much older than their nine and ten year old selves. yet they stretch and push themselves to live into the bitterness and come out on the other side.
i have rarely been more blessed than in the presence of these artists.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
new year photos
a five year old friend calls this park the monster park at christmas because "the trees all look like hands coming out of the ground to get you." i've never quite looked at this park the same since.
justino y yo
the famous pine cone that drops at midnight.
this year we had fireworks!
another grand new year's count down with the pine cone.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
new year lists
i have never been one for making new year's resolutions. i feel like they might work for some people but i just never put much effort into it.
today i read a magazine article that instead made a different list. the first of three lists is writing down some things you are proud of from 2008. the second is an "i won't criticize..." list. the third is an "i can't wait to..." list. i thought that was a brilliant idea and a good way to start out the year. i think i will have my kids make lists like this too. i always enjoy what they have to say because they are so honest.
so in the spirit of the third day of the new year. here is a start to my lists.
1. I am proud of...
2. I will not criticize...
today i read a magazine article that instead made a different list. the first of three lists is writing down some things you are proud of from 2008. the second is an "i won't criticize..." list. the third is an "i can't wait to..." list. i thought that was a brilliant idea and a good way to start out the year. i think i will have my kids make lists like this too. i always enjoy what they have to say because they are so honest.
so in the spirit of the third day of the new year. here is a start to my lists.
1. I am proud of...
- how much i have grown as a teacher
- finding time to balance between work, keeping myself healthy, and being in a relationship
- taking risks
- biking more
- doing what i say i will do
- being proactive about my health
2. I will not criticize...
- myself for not being perfect
- myself when i take much needed rest and relaxation
- my students for honest mistakes
- practice yoga
- sing in a group
- offer spanish classes for adults wanting to learn spanish
- visit friends in other states
stuff
stuff.
we all have it.
i have this strange disease where when i go shopping i will walk around with something in my hands for thirty minutes and right before i check out, i will put it back. this makes for a happy bank account but a not always happy living. i get plagued with the desire to live without a lot of stuff, while still wanting a lot of stuff. this gets tiresome.
yesterday i received a surprise christmas package from a wonderful friend. it is a beautiful hand etched vase made by a woman from nicaragua. this gift is special because within the gift is a deeper understanding of who i am. my friend understands that i love handmade gifts, and my love of things latino. this gift proudly sits under a portrait of frida, another gift i received from some more good friends several years ago.
this got me thinking.
as i looked around my apartment, i realized that most of the things are gifts from people who love me and know me. i have a plate from spain from my sister, pictures of windows and doors from cindy, art from friends, candles, lamps, prayer rugs, icons, and even my microwave was gifted to me.
with this vision, the items around my house ceased to become stuff. they were reminders of all the people who walk with me daily and who love me. although i know i don't need things to know i am loved, it is an outward and visible sign of their love. it reminds me of this when i feel down or frustrated.
many visitors have said they feel calm and peaceful when they enter my house. i too feel a certain peace after a long day at work. i think this is because it is filled with these gifts- the presence of people who love, people who know and are known.
we all have it.
i have this strange disease where when i go shopping i will walk around with something in my hands for thirty minutes and right before i check out, i will put it back. this makes for a happy bank account but a not always happy living. i get plagued with the desire to live without a lot of stuff, while still wanting a lot of stuff. this gets tiresome.
yesterday i received a surprise christmas package from a wonderful friend. it is a beautiful hand etched vase made by a woman from nicaragua. this gift is special because within the gift is a deeper understanding of who i am. my friend understands that i love handmade gifts, and my love of things latino. this gift proudly sits under a portrait of frida, another gift i received from some more good friends several years ago.
this got me thinking.
as i looked around my apartment, i realized that most of the things are gifts from people who love me and know me. i have a plate from spain from my sister, pictures of windows and doors from cindy, art from friends, candles, lamps, prayer rugs, icons, and even my microwave was gifted to me.
with this vision, the items around my house ceased to become stuff. they were reminders of all the people who walk with me daily and who love me. although i know i don't need things to know i am loved, it is an outward and visible sign of their love. it reminds me of this when i feel down or frustrated.
many visitors have said they feel calm and peaceful when they enter my house. i too feel a certain peace after a long day at work. i think this is because it is filled with these gifts- the presence of people who love, people who know and are known.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
grandpas
okay, okay. i finally joined the blogging world. i am not sure why it took me so long, seeing as i am pretty technologically with it. i think it has something to do with the very personal and vulnerable nature of writing. its a new year, a new day, and something made me jump off my couch and start one today.
now that i have begun writing again it is hard to pin down exactly what to write on my first post. but i have been thinking of the past a lot today. the happy past. a few months ago i took justino to a man's house a few blocks away to get his car fixed. when i pulled up, a small red haired girl bound down the steps from the porch and skipped around the drive way. "careful little red." spoke a gruff but obviously loving voice. she perched on the edge of a concrete slab while her grandfather slid underneath justino's car. i sat in the warm sun with her for awhile. we talked about shoe laces and cartoons.
for a moment, i left that drive way and traveled back to another drive way in kansas some twenty years ago. instead of a red haired child, a blond haired one roamed with one tool or another in her hand. perhaps it was a monkey wrench. my grandpa's gruff, yet loving voice shouted over the clamor to be careful. i brought myself back to the curious eyes of my new friend and smiled. "your grandpa loves you very much doesn't he?" "yep" she said as she hopped down from her seat.
i miss my grandpa. amazingly though, i still feel him with me during rough times or times when i have triumphed. i can feel him being proud which was not always something you could readily feel from my gramps. the run-in with this memory made me think about how much we learn in relationships. how much we open ourselves to what is true.
he used to stand at the window in his undershirt while my grandma and i waited for my school bus to pick me up. we made popcorn together, watched every john wayne movie, made trips to the local ice cream store, and i am pretty sure he taught me my first cuss words. i learned about nature, about taking care of what you've got, and to keep your elbows off the table. he could be a grouchy fellow and yet through it all, i always knew he loved me.
i think about my own dad now being a grandpa and of the infinite possibilities he has to have a wonderful relationship with his three grandkids. it makes me smile when i hear he especially took hailey to the store with him, or played legos with dalton. it is one of those cyclical resurrections.
there is something very special about grandpas.
now that i have begun writing again it is hard to pin down exactly what to write on my first post. but i have been thinking of the past a lot today. the happy past. a few months ago i took justino to a man's house a few blocks away to get his car fixed. when i pulled up, a small red haired girl bound down the steps from the porch and skipped around the drive way. "careful little red." spoke a gruff but obviously loving voice. she perched on the edge of a concrete slab while her grandfather slid underneath justino's car. i sat in the warm sun with her for awhile. we talked about shoe laces and cartoons.
for a moment, i left that drive way and traveled back to another drive way in kansas some twenty years ago. instead of a red haired child, a blond haired one roamed with one tool or another in her hand. perhaps it was a monkey wrench. my grandpa's gruff, yet loving voice shouted over the clamor to be careful. i brought myself back to the curious eyes of my new friend and smiled. "your grandpa loves you very much doesn't he?" "yep" she said as she hopped down from her seat.
i miss my grandpa. amazingly though, i still feel him with me during rough times or times when i have triumphed. i can feel him being proud which was not always something you could readily feel from my gramps. the run-in with this memory made me think about how much we learn in relationships. how much we open ourselves to what is true.
he used to stand at the window in his undershirt while my grandma and i waited for my school bus to pick me up. we made popcorn together, watched every john wayne movie, made trips to the local ice cream store, and i am pretty sure he taught me my first cuss words. i learned about nature, about taking care of what you've got, and to keep your elbows off the table. he could be a grouchy fellow and yet through it all, i always knew he loved me.
i think about my own dad now being a grandpa and of the infinite possibilities he has to have a wonderful relationship with his three grandkids. it makes me smile when i hear he especially took hailey to the store with him, or played legos with dalton. it is one of those cyclical resurrections.
there is something very special about grandpas.
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