What I Don't Do - Part II

Back when I wrote about things I don't do, did I add 'sewing absolutely anything' to that list? Part of me said that if I didn't, I certainly should have. The other side of me said that learning takes patience and verve and the ability to keep going. People become boring if they forget that.

All of this thinking yesterday while experiencing total angst at the kitchen table. I was sewing.

It's in the moments where I'm completely frustrated that I remember that some of my students are naturally more bent toward math, and still spend 5 hours of a week with me, the teacher who tends to obsess about themes in history. Learning is hard work and being a teacher creates such a humbling experience.

This post is not about teaching though....surprise of your life, I am sure. Instead, it's about sewing. Everything I know about it, and why it matters. Here goes.

Jenna and I planned to make infinity scarves, and spent yesterday morning working on this project together. Every so often one of us (usually me) would jam the sewing machine. Then I became like a 4 year old and called for my mom for help. It felt like a nightmare, and I know why. I am not detail oriented, struggle with spatial concepts, and have much more patience for people compared to tasks. Sewing is precise too, which is something I like in other people, or spelling words, or your basic conversation.

From the Head and the Heart

I have been away from writing on this blog, and the hiatus felt wholesome and good.  I don't know why I needed time away, but I did.  In the past few weeks, I only did a few things each day.  Mostly I worked really hard at school.  I would work for 15 hours and then walk to my lone car in the parking lot and wonder what the heck I was doing with my time.  But I did not feel that tired.  I think I was wired and preemptive about Quarter 2 at school.  In four years I have learned that you work your butt off in December so that January has flow.  

I turned off the radio, and listened to Amy Grant sing hymns instead.  Her voice is a strong reminder of my 90s childhood, and hearing the solidarity of hymns and the promises of Jesus was how I found the buoyancy in these weighty days.  I had long conversations with some of my friends that rooted me to the understanding of how I'm really doing.  I chose to believe them when I said I was brave.  And after every conversation, I felt intensely grateful to know such a soul who had become my friend. 

Advent Thoughts

All week long, I've been thinking about a story I heard on Sunday at church.  It immediately caught me because it was about G.K. Chesterton, and this is a man who was very honest and very jovial all at once when he wrote things on paper. Kind of like Mark Twain, who is another refreshing soul to me from an earlier time in history. 

The pastor said that Chesterton was known in England as an apologetic and a cultural analyst, which intrigued me right away.  I love analyzing cultural patterns, and it confirmed the connection I feel to Chesterton's style of writing. 

A Tribute to Excellence

First, a confession.  This is horribly dramatic of me, but last year, when I revisited this episode of 'Boy Meets World', I cried.  And I just cried again.  George Feeny is oddly inspiring, and in 'Killer Bees' (dorky puns were titles for 90s sitcom episodes!!) he's speaking my language. 

Feeny wants to win the Geography Bee with Minkus for the 6th year in a row.  Instead he takes Cory who doesn't win at all.  Start watching this at 3:25 to see what I'm talking about.

In the last few days I've talked with numerous people about teaching.  Not my students, the current grade book, or the specific school where I teach.  The stuff beyond daily life.  It has been refreshing.   

Something Brilliant from 1936

Today I saw this painting, and for some reason, deep down in my soul, I loved it.

Our school hosted a workshop for professional development, and an art teacher came to school and talked with us about using art. Better yet, using art and writing about it.

Winter Morning and Snow

Intensity no more.


Earlier this week, after writing the blog post that was heavily based on 'Christmas Vacation' and my own life, I met with the women in my Bible study and heard about similar stories that typify family and conflict and goodness and what you get when you realize that some people, this family of yours, are in your heart and your bones, and it doesn't leave. 

 For two days, I carried a lot of tension and story and ricocheting thoughts with me as I lived the days, and when it came to Bible study on Tuesday night, it all just melted away.  The stories landed in one big pile on the floor in front of us, and we laughed about a lot of things.  I know really funny people in a lot of different areas of my life.