Everyone needs a fan. When the heat is on, gruelling and relentless, the smallest of breezes provides the greatest of relief. That wee whisper suggests that there is something other than what is currently experienced. When life is challenging, a kind word can do the same. And the echoes of that kindness reverberate. Those echoes may hold us up when we are bent beneath worry, fear, anxiety, our own insecurities. Let today's heat and the relief of a fan be a reminder of what we can be to each other: a cool breeze on a muggy day.
I love Anne Lamott's words. If you haven't experienced the joy and pain of reading her writings, I invite you. Here is a sampling, vulnerable, true and oh so 'spot on.' Or am I the only one? “You will go through your life thinking there was a day in second grade that you must have missed, when the grown-ups came in and explained, everything important to other kids. they said, 'Look, you're human, you're going to feel isolated and afraid a lot of the time, nad have bad self-esteem, and feel uniquely ruined, but here is the magic phrase that will take this feeling away. It will be like a feather that will lift you out of that fear and self-consciousness every single time, all through your life.' And then they told the cildren who were there that day the magic phrase that everyone else in the world knows about and uses when feeling blue, which only you don't know, because you were home sick the day the grown-ups told the children the way the whole world works. But there was not such a day in school. No one got the instructions. That is the secret of life. Everyone is flailing around, winging it most of the time, trying to find the way out, or through, or up, without a map. This lack of instruction manual is how most people develop compassion, and how they figure out to show up, care, help and serve, as the only way of filling up and being free. Otherwise you grow up to be someone who needs to dominate and shame others so no one will know that you weren't there the day the instructions were passed out.” by Anne Lamott as found August 20/14 @ http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/538346 Sad. So sad. What I hear most is the tragedy of a man who could make people laugh like no other, but was deeply sad himself. Not only do we think this is a tragedy, but an inexplicable tragedy. It doesn't 'make sense'. Somehow, we still tend to think think people can be known definitively. Mr.Williams himself said, ""It's hard because people want to know you're a certain thing...They still say, 'That's the little manic guy. He's the little adrenaline guy. Oh yeah, he touches himself. He doesn't do that anymore. But wait a minute. He's the little manic guy who played the really quiet guy and then the really scary guy. Oh No, wait..." People want to know you are a certain thing. I wonder if that's true, and if so, why do we want to figure people out, to label, to define, to draw lines around them? It's a strange need if that's the case. It challenges me to remember how complicated we all are. And that when a friend, family member, student or stranger in the street act differently than I'd hoped, thought, or wanted, to give them that room, to accept them as they are, in that moment. Were you to enter our house, you might notice the wall to wall mirrors to your left, the 'living room' to your right now a 'fine arts room', complete with piano and numerous guitars in various states of disrepair and paintings in various states of becoming. You might note that the entrance leads to a staircase and would probably smell something cooking in the kitchen around the corner. You would not particularly notice the small dropped ceiling above you, stuccoed in a nondescript white.
A few months ago, as I descended the staircase, I head a scratch-scritch sound. Hmm. pause . listen. nothing. But occasionally, walking up or down the stairs, there would be repeat. A month ago, the noises increased in persistence and despite my knocking on the ceiling, continued. Something was in there. eek. I told my husband, rescuer of spiders and lifter of boxes. He looked skeptical. It was kind of like when I was 5 weeks pregnant and told him, "Feel, the baby is kicking!" Of course, as soon as he touched my stomach, the baby held it's breath and lay still. I should have known then she was a stinker! Anyways, I digress. Back to the ceiling. Eventually, my daughter heard the 'sounds' and then my husband. There was no denying it. We had unwanted tenants. And then the kitchen smells weren't the only smells. It began to smell more and more of pee. yes. pee. Okay. Now we actually had to do something. Though everything looked lovely, there was something rotten in Denmark, not the kind of rotten you can live with, not the kind of rotten had can be denied, rationalized or wished away. I find I can be like that ceiling. Things look good, there are signs that something is amiss. Sometimes, denial works for a while, but eventually is renovation time. So, it's with reluctance that I send my husband (what, me?!) to begin the demolition. More tomorrow....
Rousing a deaf world. Why do we need rousing and why are we deaf? Do we become immune to beauty, the gift of life, friendship, health, opportunity? When we get shaken up, our neat boundaries shake. What we once assumed for certainly dissolves, cracks or crumbles. One thing about aging is the gift of perspective. What once I'd thought was the 'end of the world', turned out not to be. again and again. Would I want a repeat of those experiences? No. Has the passing of time allowed me to process the gift(s) within those painful experiences. often. If you are in pain, I'm so sorry. It's terrible, I know. Time passes relentlessly and with it, will come a resolution of your current pain, struggle, loss. Gradually, grief changes. In the meantime, you will never see the world the same again. You have been roused. September, for teachers, is kind of a second New Year's. It's a new start, a chance to put old behaviours firmly in the past and an opportunity to build new ones. What a great opportunity. Of course, the optimists would say every day and every moment is that chance, but as humans, we still respond to clear markers and September is one of those markers. I'm wondering what pattern, behaviour, attitude I would choose to put behind and which I shall embrace. The quote above struck me that I'm reuniting with my school 'tribe' and my way of being in that tribe is not only me, but a complicated business of interactions, responses and emotions. It's amazing to think we build each other, change each other, grow each other. I'm looking forward to having communal discussions around what will change in September, holding on to the treasures from last year while planning for new and exciting ventures. Happy New Year!
It's August! Soon we will invite 24-30 young learners to journey with us for 10 months. Climb aboard! We cajole, invite, discipline, dance, argue, sing and swim around in circles, paddling furiously below the surface in the hopes that they will engage. And to learn, they need engage. especially that last straggler, who will try, try, try and try again if given the environment and nurturing to be brave enough and strong enough to persevere. On those weary days, be reminded of this video and be strong enough to welcome and wait for each and every cygnet. They too are paddling hard. |
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