Perceive

Ok, I really don't get the first two on the top.  But the others are very, very real.



The end of a Tuesday.  Many many things.  But I will just say that tonight I took a drive....back home from Minneapolis after a night with friends.  And I finally cried about the deep sadness I am fighting in this week. 
. 
I said this before, but this weekend I hated teaching.  And now I am back to thinking it's ok again.  It is undeniably in my bones.  Whether or not I feel I am succeeding or failing at it on any given day is another matter entirely.  But I am still feeling a little traumatized by things that happened at a school last week on the East Coast.  You want it to go away but sometimes it's not so immediate.  Meanwhile, I am praying and praying and praying.  Confident, yes, normalizing the school day, yes, getting things done, I must....but still a little traumatized.

It was not glamorous today.  I am slogged in papers, etching out a schedule for these last tests and projects before break, minute by minute.  Everyone has a cold and looks sort of peaked, but they've missed so much school that their mom told them they had to go back.  We could all be in a Sudafed commercial.  It's gross.  I am trying to keep canker sores at bay (it's not working) and smile and take a rest and not eat too much sugar in the teachers' lounge.  (There are cookies everywhere.) 

Dust

Things seem to be falling apart really well lately, and I've been thinking about how this feels and why it is so.  Aside from world issues, like the sickening chaos in Connecticut, there have already been things in my own little corner of this world that feel heavy and tired and worn.  I took a break this weekend, came out of the bustlings of my life, and thought about these things.




It will be said briefly here, but I was completely horrified by the shootings in Connecticut.  Humanity groans at this news...I know I am not alone in this.  I hated my call to teach this weekend because it made me once again imagine horrible things that are very, very real.  And it brings to the light the things that are already haunting...who locks the door, who grabs ANYONE in the hallway, who calms the kids and waits for armed police.   

It also once again affirmed the serious responsibility and burden I already feel teaching other peoples' children.  Sometimes when 14 year olds are REALLY getting to me, I imagine their parents sitting at work, wondering about them, maybe praying for them throughout the day, hoping someone is kind to them.  This helps me remember that everyone is fighting hard battles.

Inspiration Lately

Simplicity and Snowflakes

I've once again been thinking about how fast the world goes along.  And when I want to step in and out of that.  I wrote a post about that a year ago, and I guess it goes along with the season.  I step into Christmas in December gingerly.  Not the whole part about a Light shining in the darkness.  But everything else that is so culturally strong all around us. It's truly overwhelming. 



I hear about people wanting to make things absolutely perfect for their kids.  People tell me it's fun to do, but I'm just not there yet.  And once I'm there, I hope the word perfect is not in my vocabulary.  And then there's the conversation about how many presents they have to buy for extended family and the amazing thing they found on Pinterest that they crafted (for under 4 dollars!) and on it goes.  I go on Pinterest for 2 seconds and blanch a little.  Crafting is not my cup of tea.  I'd prefer, literally, a cup of tea instead. 

There is so much striving in this world, Christmas season or otherwise.  And there is a time and place for the push, but at what cost?  I don't want to be a stick in the mud, but I do want simplicity.  And less clutter.  And 'be here now'.  Especially in this season. A lifetime goes so fast, and by this age, you begin to see what you really want to do with it and who you want around while it's happening. 

Lovely

"God is more truly imagined than expressed,

and He exists more truly than He is imagined." - Augustine

My Latitudes and Longitudes

A few weeks ago I wrote about dropping anchor in the goodness of God.  This continues to be a reoccurring theme, and a powerful one, in my life.  It's what I am thinking about, despite the mess of this week.  Despite things that are chronic or disappointing or haven't gone away for a long, long time. 



It's been the kind of week where there is rush hour, conversations with car mechanics, bills to pay, meetings to attend, grades to enter, lots of grading that still isn't done, calming students, unexpected conversations.  And maybe even a mild panic attack.  Very unusual in my life.  Very.  It gives me perspective for those people who say this is not unusual at all.

I also witnessed this big thing in every 8th grader's experience with U.S. History....this week they recited the presidents to me in the hallway.  It's intense.  I force myself to stare at the list while they wait and think.  To live in the silence and still smile a little.  To help them along with their method, not my own.  It's a lot to manage for 75 people.  It's a lot of reading people and making space for them.   There are about 15 students left today.  Then we are done.

Breathe in, breathe out.  

God is a Tremendous Author

I know that everyone and their mother is decorating their tree today because of Facebook.  It told me so.   And while I will not put up a picture of my own newly decorated house there, I will write about it here.

Hiaitus officially over. 

Today I welcomed the Christmas season.  Gingerly, because it's a slow and gradual warming I feel towards the hype of December after what is blissfully silent in November.  I took my tree and box of decorations out today and lit my pine scented candle (hello, apartment living) and then inevitably thought about the story of my life while unpacking the ornaments. 

Slate Gray Silence

 In the course of my life, I have always liked Novembers.  I thought of that today as I was driving to school.  This drive, along the river, is always picturesque.  It’s a winding road, and it is beautiful.  Today I saw the trees as they are after the leaves and before the snow, and could suddenly tell that the look of the sunrise had changed.  And then I felt again that it really was about time for November. 

It seems odd to like November so much when we live in a world full of Mays and Augusts and Septembers.  But November is rich like none other.  It feels silent and set apart....before the explosion of festive things in December and the bleak midwinter that follows.  It’s a hibernation, nestled between the brilliance of fall and the intensity of a storms in winter.  Every year in November, I think of Robert Frost poems.  And when I look out the window and see the gray sky, I am not depressed.   Not at all.

Instead, I feel steady again, like the bracing winds can tell me why some things are the way they are.  And I know all of this on the page sounds overly sentimental, because in the end, the sky really is slate gray half of the time.  But I still say it’s a very nice thing.

Things I've Come to Believe In My 20s

The grass is greener where you water it.

 

Plan B IS life.

Marriage is able to enhance a life, but it does not solve life's problems.

People with a need for constant achievement (and constant conversation) are exhausting.

Swim

I went swimming this morning.  And it was that deep down happy I was talking about a few months ago when I discovered I finally made peace with exercise.  It had been a while since I had been swimming, but the joy of it came back.  Let me tell you, I am not constantly doing laps or doing those cool flips at the end of the pool in order to turn around and not lose momentum.  In fact there were only laps in intervals, and in life, I have never been able to do the cool end-of-the-pool flip. 

Believe me, I have tried.  Water gets into my nose, and once I hit my head and got disoriented, and my overly active imagination imagined how I would get myself out of drowning if the coach wasn't watching me at all times. 

There's something nice though about not being the best at something and liking it anyway.  This, for me, is swimming. (And diving.)  But I grew up with swimming lessons, and I would say that, though I don't want to head for open water to do all major swimming, I am just fine in the pool at the gym. 

French Motherhood, Observed

A few weeks ago, I came across Bringing Up Bebe, recently published by an American living in France.  It  immediately caught my attention, though I am not yet a mother, so I bought it and finished reading it today.  And now my mind is full of things very French and very American and the middle ground - whatever you get when you agree and disagree with both all at once. 

It occurs to me now that sociology might just be a hobby of mine, loosely attended, amidst the hustle and bustle of my life.  I like these books...written about the times, about people, about their habits in society.  And stated with notes and research to back it up. 

Do I want to do that research myself?  No way.  Is it always right?  Probably not.  But I like reading about it.  Especially when the author is good.  Or so unlike me that I can't put the book down. 

What the Years Know

Good morning, Monday.

This time, here and now, with coffee and silence and without the orders of the day, is good medicine for clearing the mind and refocusing the heart.

I am still thinking about the weekend. It will be said cryptically. But when some of that 'unbelievably painful' found its way again into the last few days, I decided that this is why God gives us time second by second, minute by minute, in order to go on and breathe in and out and make it through. For all of our wonderings about the reasons for time feeling and being what it is, the brilliant genius of God is that He lets us see it in small slips.

And then there are the years.

Sea Storm

Earlier this week, I read a Max Lucado book that was really short, probably really an excerpt for another he's written.  It was about what you really say inside when life is rough.  When I read it, I thought about one of the most intriguing stories in the Bible, which has always been, for me, when Jesus calms the storm.   

I know the connection.  And it's been said before.  Despite my entire childhood in farmland, there is a very real side of me that also loves the sea.  I felt homesick when I saw it, and if that didn't make me think of Heaven I don't know what does.  

I think about the sea when I think about God because it makes sense to me.  And I love in the story that at the end, peace is all that is left.  Sometimes I have felt this peace deep down in my bones, in an insular way, when everything else the in world in front of me is going dead wrong.  And I should be saying otherwise.  And this is what it is like to know Jesus. 

Breathing Easy

Lately I have been thinking about the things in life that are my favorite.  It's a thought that has been tapping on my shoulder as I've been living my life.  I don't really know why either, except that I believe it's good to be alive.  Fully alive.  And delight is a part of that.  

I've sort of been a curmudgeon inside, but I don't think that people can see that because I have become good at pretending.   But let me tell you, there is some cynicism that happily lives inside of me until I foist it out.  And I can be pretty vile and mean sometimes too.  Sometimes I can use words to be funny, but it's not very nice, even when I feel momentarily justified by it.  I felt that way this morning, so I confessed it.  And felt pretty human.  And this made me think about Jesus and being in a redemption story and how good that feels too.  Even when I'm exasperated and bewildered and feel justified about the stank eye I just gave the world.    

And then, lately, I come to my favorite things.  Here are a few I just thought of. 

Pajamas, Kleenex, Couch

It's Friday night, and I am sick.  The first cold of the school year.  Last year I was more resilient.  But it caught everyone in the first month...kids and teachers alike.  I have just finished watching two chick flicks, and I have traded in teacher clothes for pajama pants and a giant sweater.  And laying on the couch for the rest of the night. 

This is not my dream of an evening, but it is a relief.  After a few days of cold meds and an attempt at a perfectly timed sleep schedule so I could do my job this week, there is no pressure.  No consideration of last minute sub plans at 5 am...Should I write them?  Should I just go there and do all of these things myself and try not to breathe on anyone?  Where did I really get this cold anyway?  Was it when I was grading the mound of papers on my desk?  Did someone sneeze on their homework and then transfer it to me? 

These are passing thoughts, but not very comfortable ones.  

Ever Present, Ever Good

 It is now decidedly fall. And school is in full swing, and lots of things have changed since the summer already. Like many people, I am back to candles, blankets on the couch, and early mornings with coffee that wait a little longer for the sunrise.

I am also back to teaching.  I did not do the pencil-shuffling-school-supply-organization this year. Kind of surprising.  I didn't obsess about certain things in my classroom.  Instead I lovingly put certain things back in their rightful place.  And I didn't do tons of back-to-school shopping for teacher clothes either.  I bought jewelry and shoes, and wondered when I had become that person.  In this way, the transition was seamless. I have teacher clothes that work for a while. And the pencils were already in the desk drawer where I left them in June.  And now the lessons I am using just need fine tuning.

Reminders

Tonight I am need of these reminders.  I found the equivalent of the songs I've been listening to today on YouTube in these forms.  God is big and very very good.  Even when I am still and small and unsure. 

Dear Miss Christians

Every year during the first week of school, I get a letter from every one of my students. 

This is my favorite. 

I make them do it...it's not of their own volition...but it is a very good start to the year.  They sit at their desks, and shake out the stiff summer handwriting and write furiously for a little while and tell me interesting things. 

I sit back and learn about these people, and marvel at their creativity and thoughtfulness and honesty and self showing up on the page.  They tell me what they are scared about sometimes, and also what they love.  I keep these all year and then give them back to them in June.  And in June they are very different people.  So the letter marks a lot. 

Anchor

I woke up before my alarm clock rang this morning, and the moon was beautiful at such an early hour.  It was in this moment that everything felt like fall.  Not because it's suddenly cold, but because school is here, and 'Miss Christians planning lessons' is (sort of) happening again.  And because the seasons turn 'like that' for me.  

As I was looking at the moon, I heard lyrics on the radio that talked about the creativity of God when He designed the moon and tides to work together.  It is creative.  Who else would think of that?  

Recently I reread part of a book I read in college.  I gave it to Jenna a while ago, and she is reading it now.  So I paged through it on Labor Day when we were together.  It is always interesting to revisit the things you underlined in earlier seasons in life.  I find that they are usually cyclical and hold as much power (or more) to astonish me when I see them again later. 

First Day Confidence and Care

Making it through the first day of school this year was unlike any other year I've experienced in teaching.  And when I said 'making it through', I mean just that.  No matter what, no matter how planned out or serene you are, you are in the mix of some sort of chaos.  And you just go with it.  Everyone does.  This year it was much easier to figure out.  

Yesterday I picked up on all of these millions of things in the hallway...when kids are passing through my door and turning around to find their next class and when they've got that lost look in their eyes.....and that's what made me tired at the end of the day.  I witnessed so many things happening.  And the super absorbency of my thought life eventually needed to shut down.

But the day worked.  And now the school year is REALLY here.

Whoa

Oh hello, Unhelpful Teacher.  I think today, I might know exactly who you are and what you are all about. 


Tonight was Open House night at school.  It was the first 12 hour day I have done at school in a few months, but not something altogether unfamiliar to me.  I do that a lot in February and March, just to keep things going.   But it was a jolt tonight.  We had meetings and prep and planning and all the rest before Open House.  I am home now, and my mind is totally scrambled.  After weeks of talking to 5 people a day, I am now back to talking to 5 people in one minute.  And usually they all need help.

As I said before, this is Year Six for me.  A lot of the teachers are returning, and it's not a year of giant growth at school.  So we pick up very quickly where we left off.  It's like no time has passed at all, and yet it feels like a long time since certain things have happened.  One teacher came into my room today and said, 'I just keep eating.  It's like I can't figure out what I need to do next.  When to eat, where to go next, how to be here again.' 

Questions and Answers and the Aztecs

No surprise, history is on my mind again this time of year.  And the questions about history are coming back too.  Why?  When?  How?  What if?  Why not?  
In honor of this, I will tell you a story from my life a few years ago.  Back when I was 23.

The first year I was teaching at St. Croix Prep, I had a class period that wanted to discuss (and would have happily kept discussing) the outcomes of ritual sacrifice by Aztec priests.  Specifically, the ritual sacrifice of warriors who were offered to the sun god.   

The question at hand became this....what happened to their heartless bodies? We were covering 'Chapter 24: The Aztecs'.  This is your basic Central Mexico in the 1400s scenario.  And we were discussing the importance of religious ceremonies, post-combat, for this people group. Who and why and how.

'The Point, Gentlemen, Is That They Lived'

Today, with open windows and sweatshirt weather, I curled up on the couch and watched 'Ever After'.  And I was once again struck by how much I love this movie.   First, I am reminded of high school.  But there's more to it than that. 

There's also the beauty of the story.  That da Vinci shows up and eludes to all of his inventions, and that people get upset about class structure and political alliances through marriage.  And there are the elaborate dresses.  And the 90s woman mindset that shows up when, at the end, the main character wields the sword against Le Pieu and saves herself.   (I argue now this is both great and not so great at all.)  And best of all, that half of the time the main characters are talking it is about books.  

This is a very good version of Cinderella.

A Millenial Look at the 20th Century

It is time to come back to the details of history, and knowing this has been on my mind, but the real action of opening a book and reading like a teacher did not come back until today.  I have spent most of my time today learning again about the 20th century. 

I think this back to school business for teachers has its own rhythm.  For some it starts in late July.  For me it starts, really starts, now.  All sorts of teachers are back to finding their groove. 

You've heard me talk about being a generalist and choosing to delve deeper into some things.  But not all things?   

Getting Good

In the spirit of what was said before in 'What 5 Years Have Taught Me' I am continuing to write about life.  What's in front of me, here and now.  Though we tend not to think about this too much, the title of a post like this is truly a significant task in each day.  And the years that take them to new places.  This morning I thought about not only summer, but life in the last year.   And not where I've been going or what I've been doing, but the things I've figured out.

A few years ago, one of my friends used the term 'getting good with yourself'.  Before you do big things that sweep you into the 'shoulds and should nots' of this modern life.  It's such a simple thing to say, but living it, really looking it in the face every once in a while can be heart wrenching.  Good you know, but heart wrenching too.  I believe that you need to face things because they don't go away.  You can live to be 86 years old and some of the crap will still come to you.  You have to go through some of it.  And so.  This is what I know.

What 5 Years Have Taught Me

Last week, I went to Glacier National Park (see above), which one of my favorite places on this planet. (More to come.)  And now I am back.  After all of those miles, toting all of that camping gear, here I sit, grateful to be home, and grateful to have gone on the trip at all.  Not everybody gets to head west and drive into the sunset and go hiking and camping with their little sister for a week.  It was SOOOOO fun.  

Today, right about the time I hit 35 heading north, the non-Montana side of my life came back to me. But it wasn't depressing.  It was good.  Mostly I thought about what the summer has been since I left the classroom in June.  (Or more realistically, when the last kid was picked up by their parents at the airport, post-D.C., at 1 am.  That's when summer got real.) 

Quotes for New Seasons

  Every once in a while I return to the thoughts that are brief. Today is a day like that.   I am thinking about bracing up the inner landscape in preparation for new seasons ahead.  And amid the flurry of details and changing schedules, this always means being someone true.  And seeing the thing right in front of you very well.  And doing something good with it.  Here are the small thoughts in front of me that are once again becoming big today. 


"A man's style is his voice.  Wood minds, wooden voices." - Emerson

"The tragedy of life is not so much what men suffer, but what they miss." - Thomas Carlyle

Crickets Symphonies and Change

All summer long I have been thinking about seasonal trade off.  It's slow in coming, trickling into the day as I live differently.  But after 5 years of teaching, the trade off is clear.  I had a myriad of thoughts come to my again this morning about it, so I'm writing about it here. 

Trade Offs

• Sunscreen instead of perfume. (Lots of sunscreen.)
• Strapless sundresses instead of teacher wear
• Not caring one whit about jewelry instead of wanting to get dolled up every day 
• 'I don't know what time it is right now' instead 'You have 3 more minutes' (on every hour)
• Books about the 'why the humanities?' written by professors (with the summer brain power to actually understand) instead of 7th grade textbooks I know like the back of my hand
• Floaties instead of swivel chairs
• Bewildering writer's block instead of constant internal thoughts about world history and more
• More Augustana, less Rihanna (she helps me grade)
• Miles and miles of driving instead of my little route along the St. Croix to school
• Bare feet as much as possible instead of high heels and flats
• Thoughts about the world I don't share instead of 6 hours of constant talking (hello, tired September voice)
• Big picture dreaming instead of the small moments of intensity (there are many of these in any one's work day, no?)

Deep Down Happy

This summer I have been hidden, a little removed, and far away.  On purpose.  It is the bliss of the teaching life to cease striving in the world of education for a little while.  Soon it returns to me. 

This summer I have had loads of writers block. And I've traveled to see old friends and I've done lots of new things too.  And I've cleaned.  And I've grown up a little more.  And I've faced things squarely that might have been hidden or held residue in the business of the school year.

When you really face yourself in the quiet of a summer day, the real true you sometimes needs to be reckoned with.  I will say that this has been awkward for me...to really think about things I've carried in my mind, the clutter that holds a fog that doesn't need to be there.  The messages I share internally that propel or hinder.  Amidst this, the questioning, the perspective changing, the reckoning, beautifully, there has also been rest. 

In the far away, abstract, summer reaches of my mind, I have seen again that this is growing up. 

Friday Paradox and Surprise

Tonight I am going to tell you a story about a surprising thing that happened to me tonight.  But first, a necessary prologue.

I have recently been making a point to notice what I like about people I encounter in the world. 

Mostly this applies to the new ones, not people I've known for years.  And generally, it catches me by surprise and I like it.  I think it's either how you carry yourself or how the stranger next to you perceives you, but there is a good connection, and you are talking.  I find that I like how this shifts the weight and feel of my world.

Not, however, tonight.

Tonight I met someone who really creeped me out, for a few obvious reasons, and then for some that really seemed vague and indescribable.  I acknowledged the obvious and also paid attention to the other sense that said 'Welcome to Creepsville.'   And I think I'm writing about it so I can quit feeling kind of suffocated.  Or to get my skin to stop crawling.

I guess it starts with the semi-embarrasing admission that I went to go to 'Ice Age: Continental Drift' in theaters.  I saw the previews, thought the jokes were funny, and on a whim, decided to go.

Unthawed

            For a while now I have been talking about July being a time of respite from the world.  Breathing room for the deep cleaning that didn’t happen this spring when my world was everything middle school.  And now it is July and I am back at home, actually with no plans to go anywhere too far as I just learned yesterday that my car needs a major repair.   It is time to buckle down and clean.

            The car situation is disappointing, but whatever, it will get fixed and will work out somehow.  I work with fair car people, and that is always a great relief.  The owner of the shop used to be an engineer with NASA and really likes working with machines, so he explains things really well.  Every time.  But he doesn’t over explain himself….he expects you to have a brain and be following along.  Sometimes when I go to this place I find that I am very grateful for any experience I have with my extended family in Iowa. 

A New Look at an Old Word

Home.  The dear old place.  I have finally returned to Stillwater after two weeks of going wherever the wind took me.  It's very nice to live spontaneously.  I think I'm getting better at it.   But it is now nice to be home.

Here's a story in my life that hints of a lack of spontaneity (and a lot of inner tragedy too).   Five years ago I went to Glacier National Park in Montana, and I was offered a job on the spot at a little cafe overlooking the nicest place I've ever seen in my life.  They needed help, I was there, and I had half of my fellow travelers telling me to take the job, and the other half reminding me of home.  (And my stupid job at the bead store, counting beads all day and listening to Norah Jones and watering the plants because I wasn't good at helping artsy people find their next new inspiration). 

51 Kids and Washington, D.C.

Exceptional happened.


It is a week later (now posted a few weeks after THAT) and I am now in the beginning, again, of life post-D.C.. It is slow in coming to me, as I have forgotten a lot of things that didn't revolve around the trip.  All around me in the apartment is evidence that I have been busy. Nothing is in total shambles, but I have work to do in order to make my apartment seem like a hospitable place to be.   Currently, windows open, rainy weather here, it is a quiet summer shelter for a very tired me. 

'The third time is the charm' is technically true when I consider leading the trip.  I've been to D.C. 4 times in the last few years, but the first time, I got sick.  Really, altogether digustingly sick....I couldn't go to school for four days after the trip.  I had pink eye and maybe some bronchitis?  Certain elements of that trip are a little hazy, but really, the morning we woke up at 3:00 am to meet luggage and parents and kids at school, the pit in my stomach was gone.  

What a relief. 

Lull

Today two really wonderful things happened.  Maybe we could say three wonderful things.  Or maybe as I'm sitting down to write about it, I see the rest of a long line of wonderful stretching out in front of me. 

I finished all grades, all quarters, all year updates.  Finally.  I am done with it. 

Yesterday was such a huge mix of everything all at once...I think I was just partly there amidst the craziness of signing yearbooks and ending it with the crowd.  But today I sat in the quiet, quiet school, finally finishing those last small things at my trusty desk.  And it was the real closure I had been waiting for.

To mark this, I had a dance party in my classroom.  Probably some couldn't imagine me doing this, but I blasted music, and it felt appropriate and good and funny to be dancing like a maniac in the place where I have literally stood to teach all year.   Heather sent me an e-mail that said she imagined me running out of the school throwing paper and screaming, and I suppose this was my version of that kind of joy.

Done and Done

It was another one of those nights where I stayed super late and the custodians swept around me and I kept working.  The next thing, the next thing, the next thing.  I made myself eat, and not completely forget I had a body that needed some care, and I kept repeating things to myself about how the perk of teaching really is the long summer day in July where nothing is time sensitive. 

My good friend, Stacy the English Teacher, came in and helped me sort out of my tired brain when the things I had to organize for Friday just weren't making sense.  She could tell. We've gotten into a pattern of knowing when I need to do something concrete and the abstract side of my mind just won't stop getting in the way.  Yesterday she literally said, 'Is there anything I can do for you in a concrete way that would help you sort anything out?'  And I knew exactly what she was talking about.  And she knew that I knew that she knew.  (Thanks, friend.)

The Very Tired Teacher

T-minus....

4 more days of school
6 more days until the D.C. trip
10 days until my summer break begins


I've been very calm and unaltered about the end of school....something I've deliberately practiced in order to make it to the end and not flake out as a teacher. I HAVE to be diligent about their grades. But today is the last big push. If I can grade like an efficient maniac today, I feel like I'll be golden. I've been living like this....'every minute counts, but I'm still praying and still calm' for a long time, and it seems like I'll never stop living like this.

Closing

I can't believe it's been 20 days since I wrote on this blog.  The hiatus has not been self-imposed.  The schedule I've lived out, both at school and in LIFE in general has kept me away from whatever it is that sends me to type in this white open space that eventually becomes a blog post.  I last wrote about being a part of something very early and very still. 

And I am happy to report that, despite the intensity of the life I'm living, there have been moments for 'very early and very still'.  I'm drinking coffee out of a mug from Molly and the windows are open, and I love spring.  It's nice to live on the third floor, as I've said a thousand times before, because when you go to the window, you first see the green of the trees, and when you really sit down to listen, it's the rush of the breeze that you hear before anything else. 

Every year I find that the most simple things in the spring are the most steadying to me.  Basic please and thank yous, color returning to nature, the creativity of different kinds of flowers, my old worn out desk shoved up to the window, marking a place of inspiration for me.  And despite temporarily intense stressors at school, there is also the magical moment every year when I realize I have planned out lessons to the end of the year, and that they will WORK.  And they will run themselves.  And I need to keep up with them and it will all be ok. 

Early and Still

Yesterday in my life the feeling of of being swept up and rushed along was no longer the order of the day.  There was a sincere and relevant time for things, and it made me feel that the momentum has come back.  My work makes sense again.  

I sent out the big 'D.C. info in May' spiel....the info we need, the timing, the import of it all.  That ship is in motion, and it's relieving that it's not all held by moi any longer.  It's out there for everyone else to navigate.  I find this kind of cozy and relieving...it's their trip after all.  I also made a giant project at the end of the day that took a million years to type out, revise, and structure.  But at the end of it, I said, 'Good job, Jessica.  You're going to use this for 5 years and it's actually not going to fall apart in front of you.' 

It's the happy reality of the 5th year teacher to be able to look at the things you create and anticipate the direction it will take.  

Verve and Dear Life

I'm just going to say it.  I have needed inspiration for a while now.  This season in teaching, this last month, is really tough, and I haven't found my momentum for it.  I find that this is kind of horrible.  What an awkward feeling to try and shake in such a lovely season like spring.   I think any teacher reading this right now might feel it....it's not specific to me.  But it's a lethargic, dull place I want to hold loosely, if at all.  Movement, please. 

I had a few experiences over the weekend where people I knew well said something back to me about myself.  We do not often see ourselves the way others see us.  I was introduced at a bridal shower, in front of a bunch of people I didn't know, as a very inspiring person and teacher.  And I certainly did not feel that way.  I felt sort of schluppy, and very paper-ridden.  Paper-ridden!  What sort of adjective is that for a person?  But right now it's the only one I feel. 

The upswing though, after admitting this feeling (and just a feeling) of a season...I have found this inspiration. 

The Rich Present Things

Is this how God inspired lace?  I think so.

It's a beautiful morning, and now suddenly here is life in the month of May.  I've been a little muddled by the entrance of such a good month....it's been a busy week.  On Tuesday morning, I woke up halfway thinking it was Saturday. (It wasn't!)  All week the kids were off kilter.  Everyone was.  None of the days seemed right.  There was a lot of good in them, but it was all mixed up.   It's as if the rudder of a giant ship has changed course and the rest of the boat is slowly moving with the intended change.   We are almost done with school. 

I woke up this morning from the strangest dream.  For all of the intensity of my life's work this week, the dream I had was nothing well connected to it.  I dreamt I was in my own classroom and someone came in and told me that I had to have a student teacher in the last month of school.  He barreled into class.  And when he came in he was just like someone I worked with a long time ago who openly mocked my style of teaching in front of students.  (How annoying, unprofessional, and traumatizing.)  In my waking hours, I have faced the feeling and figured it out.  And I do not let that style of passive-aggressive insecurity become a part of my conversations, especially in front of students. 

I would just not allow it. 

In Consideration of 1912

Lots of people that I know have talked about 'Downton Abbey' for a while now.  I finally got into it.  And now my head is full of thoughts about the 1910s.  This happens when I watch a historical period film.  I knew it would.  Everything links to every other thing I've ever learned about the time and place.  I just finished teaching the 1910s and WWI, and every year, I find it fascinating.  And 'Downton Abbey' incorporates everything I've talked about from a British perspective.    I am hoping to quell the thoughts in the mind by saying something about them.  

Every year in teaching when my classes transition out of Chapter 27 to a conversation about the 1920s, I breathe a sigh of life.  Internally, though I find this to be a fascinating time, it generally feels like I was wearing a corset the whole time we were there in the timeline of history.  Everything seems sort of tight and gray.  Sometimes when I think of the 1910s, it feels like there is fine soot all over everything and people are either working in factories or being carted around by a footman.  And listening to a waltz on the phonograph.  Installing telephones.  Changing their clothes 5 times a day if they are wealthy, and wearing giant hats just to go to dinner.  And, last of all, having older female relatives with pursed lips giving you advice. MY older female relatives don't have pursed lips or severe frowns.  (What a relief.)  As appealing as the beginning of the 20th century is to me, and as much as it links to so much that is NOW, I believe I would be a radical in that time.

On the Mend

This week I have been sick. And I have to say that I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired. (Lame play on words, but true.) It's boring to not feel that you are a part of your own life. For the past few days I've talked to very few people, and watched lots of movies and sat by myself and not said much. I haven't felt like it. But since certain things are in my nature...wanting to see conversation, people, ideas, stories, beautiful things, surprises, God's handwriting on the day, spontaneity...I have felt that my body has not been cooperating with the soul in me.  Sickness doesn't get rid of seeing life the way we do. It just seems to put it out of order. I have TRIED to go with the flow. But I am sick of it.

And the result is that I have vacillated between being completely relieved that I have time away to breathe better and rest, and then equally as caged and restless. 

Teachers tend to become martyrs about being sick....like no one can live without us and our lesson plans.  I've seen it, and I don't want to be that way.  A few years ago a colleague said to me, 'Don't think you have to be like that' and I believed him.  (I will say that sub plans, good ones, take FOREVER, and you quickly bargain with yourself in the middle of the night about what is really worth it.  Once you get over that, you're good to go.) 

What We Did on Tuesday

What you see here is a picture that was taken yesterday in a very candid moment. This is called 'We are in the last 20 minutes of our field trip for the day, and I technically don't know where many of the students really are.' Why would this be the caption? Becuase we had set them loose into these woods looking for fossils.  With hammers.  And while this looked good and approachable on paper, there was briefly a very real moment of yawning fear in seeing ourselves live out this plan.

At one point, one teacher very comfortably shared, "We must be insane to be doing this."  And that broke the tension of unvoiced fears.  And after that, at least for me, everything was ok.  Kids climb around in the woods all of the time at home, right?  (This is when I feel incredelous about the 'hows' of parenting.)

Heartbeat Stories and Middle Ground

The heartbeat of my life looks different lately.  I have been away from this blog because I have not wanted to ramble, and I knew I would if I started to type.  I have not come up with much in the hiatus, save for the idea that there are signs of age adding life experiences to who I have always been.  Life does this to everyone...this adding of experience to age and coming up with newness.   Sometimes it makes life more difficult and lots of other times, it makes everything very simple. 

Right now my life is more heart thought than head knowledge, even though much of my day spent sharing knowledge and articulating historical analysis.  While both angles need to be managed and used in my life, I see that there is more peace when I live first out of the heart.  It puts everything else together. 

At the Desk By the Window

On the mind on Monday...

"The well of Providence is deep. It's the buckets we bring to it that are small." - Mary Webb

"There are years that ask questions, and years that answer." - Zora Neale Hurston

"...your play needs no excuse. Never excuse." - Shakespeare

Why and How and Goodness

Last night I babysat for Evan and Heather.  It was more time for introversion, and I welcomed it.  Simple things like sitting on a porch, giving a baby a bottle and swaddling him up before bed, reading new books,  watching new movies, and breathing in and out....it helped to clear my mind. 

I left their place with a stack of movies that people have always been suggesting to me (which they own and are generous to lend) and a few books too.  One was Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell.  I have taken time to read it today.

Heather said that she firmly believes that certain things in the Christian life are learned by people at different times.  What would be revolutionary for someone might not hit another in the same way, and you are not better than another if you learn something sooner.  It was her very humble and admirable way of explaining why she was telling me to read the book...but also keep it. 

Right Now

Though it did not feel very glamorous, I did a very good thing for myself by going to bed last night at 9:30.  I hadn't done this for weeks, and I woke up this morning feeling completely refreshed.  I love morning best.  Every spring, when the weather is suddenly perfect again, the first thing I do is pull back the blinds and open all of the windows.  It makes everything feel spacious and open, even though technically the change was very small.  Sometimes I crawl back into bed and listen to the birds and the silence that accompanies them.  It's just the birds that sing at first.  The rest of the day wakes up after them.

In the early morning in town, only a few people are awake.  This morning when I went to the window I saw a bunch of middle aged men run by with flashing lights on their heads for safety.  It made me really happy to see them out for a jog with headlamps.

Connecticut

This week I took a trip in a solitary way to Connecticut.

It was good and reviving for me to do this thing...to get on an airplane by myself and go to a good place to meet friends (and their new baby). Alli and Seth were generous and easy going about having me there to visit, and were very willing to share their baby too. I had so much fun with them.

I had been a robot teacher for the past month, very solitary in my work and mentally worn out. Winter has felt very awkward to me this year, and I am longing for spring.

But when I cut loose from the moorings of my tired life in Stillwater, and went to Connecticut, I woke up again. I paid attention to new things and time felt different again. East Coast timing met Daylight Savings and a new baby's feeding schedule. I did not just stay with Seth and Alli. I actually encountered a lot of people on this trip. That's why I resonated so clearly with what Anne Morrow Lindbergh writes in 'A Gift from the Sea'.

Returning

I've been away from the blog for another little stint, and now I'm back to it again.  The last post I wrote was reveling in snow (see title) and now I'm reveling in spring in Minnesota like everyone else, even if it's early.  REALLY early.  I'm back to the job today after Spring Break, and I am happy to report that I am refreshed.  It wasn't the kind of week where I did a lot of errands and small jobs and got super productive.  I turned off my mind. 

I didn't think about kids, I met new people in another part of the country when visiting friends in Connecticut, and no one called me Miss Christians for a week.  I didn't think about technicalities, and I saw the ocean and good people.  I also got out of a mental funk that was actually really overwhelming at times....something that usually typifies February thoughts for many people I think.  The vacation was good.  Feeling anonymous for once was good.  Encountering different things and not seeing them through the lens of 'I'm a teacher' was good. 

I wrote this giant blog post about my trip to Connecticut, but I just haven't posted it yet.  It is coming, complete with pictures of cute babies and the ocean and the fun things we (Allison, Seth, Grace, and I) did while I was there.  But for now, I will write about a dream I had last night.

Snow, Snow, Snow, Snow, Snow

Think 'White Christmas' singing with this post's title, but maybe change the wording to 'ice'.  Or the Hallelujah chorus singing at top volume.  That's how the science teacher chose to express this on facebook....

Today, blissfully, gratefully, surprisingly, I got news that school had been cancelled. 

I went outside to my screened in porch this morning and stood there in my pajamas and drank hot coffee with real cream and sugar.  I heard the rain falling on the snow (weird) and smelled the fresh, cold air and heard the trucks all over town dropping salt and making things less scary for driving.  (The many hills in Stillwater are NOT to be reckoned with unless there is salt on the road.)  I just stood there and let it all soak in.  It was beautiful. 

What Helps in February

Sometimes this time of year can feel a little trenchy to me. I use this word in a cavalier way, and don't really have any idea what it means to compare my life to actual combat conditions from 100 years ago. But the word trench always comes back in winter right about now. You see the sky but you feel even closer that you are standing in the mud.   It's more about perspective than anything else.

I generally tend to think that beautiful and interesting things are right in front of you.  They go stale if you don't fight to get back the good. And I really felt that last week. My mind and body were not in sync at all (I can't type that word - ever - without thinking of the 90s boy band that spelled it wrong and made it such a cultural reference) and I was going through motions on the outside and living far away in a disorganized way. And that's about all I was doing.