(W)rite-ing On...

I'd Like to Think I am Choosing the Road Less Taken

2011-05-22T10:29:00.000-07:00

There are only two things you"have to" do in life. You "have to" die and you "have to" live until you die. You make up the rest.

~ Marilyn Grey

Last week I bought a new bike. I hadn't had a bike for the past few years and hadn't missed the activity too much until recently. A couple of my friends from work got bikes this past year and a guy I've been dating has one, and they all seemed really happy to be riding, and it started to inspire me to think about getting one too.

But what kind of bike should I get? New or used? A mountain bike? A cruiser? 10-Speed? Three-speed? No-speed? Foot brakes? Hand brakes? Lots of options.

So last week I got a bug up my butt to buy a bike. A new bike. Decision number one. Tempe Bicycles was advertising a sale so I decided to go there (decision number two). I had a mountain bike last time around - a Trek - which I loved! I bought it when I was living in Chicago, and when you are riding on Chicago roads you might as well be riding on mountain terrain...not because it's hilly, by any means, but because the streets are definitely craggy enough to simulate mountain trails. Hence: thicker, stronger tires are a good thing.

So there I was at Tempe Bicycles looking at all kinds of bikes - mountain bikes, racing bikes, cool-looking-I-don't-know-what kind of bikes, and cruisers. There were so many styles and so many colors and all of the bikes were so crammed together. But I had had a cruiser in mind when I first thought of getting a new bike (my girlfriends at work both have cruisers and I thought them super cute) and I think that idea was sticking with me. So I bee-lined right to the cruisers with all their different colors and styles.

Foot brakes or hand brakes? Three-speeds or no-speeds became my next criteria. I decided on foot brakes (I am not sure why, excatly, because I haven't had a foot-brake bike since I was in elementary school) and a three-speed (it seemed like a good idea with any kind of hill or graded road). Decisions numbers three and four were made.

Onto style and color...So many options! But it wasn't really hard, because once I saw it, I knew the exact bike I wanted: Robin's egg blue body (with a heart design on the bars), lime green inside the tires, and white fenders with a branch/leaf motif with Red Robins perched on it. A total girl bike! The fifth decision made.

Of course, I had to test ride the bike to see if it fit comfortably and rode well, which it did on both counts. And then, well - I had to accessorize! Wicker basket, helmet (which I loathe wearing, but know I'll have to when I take a long ride and have to ride in traffic), Kryptonite lock (and had the bike shop people put an extra safety chain on the seat to ward off potential bike seat thieves).

I love this bike! Just looking at it makes me happy. Riding it makes me happier. I've not had the chance to take it for a long ride yet, but I've taken some good short ones almost every day since I got it and it's such fun. It feels good to let the breeze blow on my face and through my hair. I love the feel of having to hunker down and pedal whenever there's a grade in the road or a small hill in the park, and then there's the joy of just coasting as the road dips or when I descend the hilly path.

I've had the opportunity to explore streets that I have never driven down or walked down before. I rode through areas of Papago Park where I hadn't yet been. And it dawned on me that having this bike has given me a new freedom and more options. It has provided me with a new mode of transportation, another activity to partake in, and has given me an alternative form of exercise. It has also offered me a new way to see places I haven't experienced and to make choices about where I want to go, what I want to do. Shall I turn down this road or that one? Do I want to cruise slowly or ride fast?

I'm sure that in reading all of this, and that in noting the title and reading the opening quote, you are getting that this post isn't really just about my new bike. The bike is super cool and I'm happy to talk it up but what I really wanted to take a closer look at was decisions: choices and options, and to remind myself that I have them, readily, at my disposal. I can make a choice and make another choice and, still again, make another choice. I am not stuck. And, though I know this, I forget this, because I get stuck on seeing things one way. My path seems to narrow and I lose my peripheral vision, and before I know it I forget I have "turning" capabilities.

Thank goodness for friends, for books, for meditation - for the willingness to realize that I have made my vision very small and can re-open to space - to bring me back to reality. To the reality that I have choices about what actions I am going to take and what kind of responses I want to make.

A friend of mine reminded me the other day that "ignorance is bliss," and that that's why being smart and being creative can sometimes feel very overwhelming and difficult. And I remember my professor Richard Brown explaining that "Fantasy is nice, but reality is so much richer." Most people remain ignorant, it's easier. And most all of us, at one time or another, turn to fantasy as an escape (and sometimes, we all have to take a breather and dream). So the question is do I want to live in a fantasy world of what I think I want or live in the real world and work with what I'm given? Do I want to play this game of life passively and play the victim or do I want to meet life on life's terms and make decisions about what I do with what I get? Do I want to be ignorant or do I want to be awake? While it can be challenging, even painful, and though it requires a lot more courage, I'm choosing reality. It may mean pedaling uphill at times, but I can adjust my three-speed accordingly.
By the way, my new bike came with a really cool bell (see above photo). So, look out world: you (and I) never know what street I might turn down Make way! Ring, ring!!

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

Took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

~ Robert Frost

Love and Pain and the Whole Damn Thing

2011-04-10T18:10:00.000-07:00

There was a 1973 film directed by Alan Pakula by the same title that I have "borrowed" for this post. My post has nothing to do with the movie, but the title seems appropriate. In the past two weeks I have experienced the gamut of joy and sorrow, ups and downs, love and pain, and everything in between - and that's just with and amongst my students and the school community where I teach. This morning, as I lay in bed, I was struck by the amount of gratitude I had for all of life - for each moment, for all that I have experienced - for all the gifts that come with happy exuberance, deep grief, or simple contentment. Two weeks ago I attended one of my students' (from last year) Bat Mitzvah - a right of passage for Jewish thirteen year-old girls as they take responsibilty for their personal practice of Judaism and the upholding of Jewish traditions. Though there is a solemnity to this rite of passage, it is thought of as a true celebration and, typically (as with Jamie's) there is a party that follows the ceremony at the synogogue with singing, dancing, mirth and merriment. Yesterday, I participated in another rite of passage: a memorial service. This was for another student of mine, who died last Wednesday. A seventeen year-old girl who died after spending half of her life dealing with Valley Fever and an immune deficiency that made it difficult for her body to fight the fungal infection. I only had a brief opportunity to get to know Rachel, as I have only had her class (11th grade) this semester and Rachel has been out of school for most of it. However, I knew her enough to know that she was a fighter. That she had a thirst for learning and doing her best. And that she was kind. Through her classmates I learned that she was funny, sarcastic, talented, and a true, loyal friend, with an amzing spirit. At the service yesterday, which was held at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I sat bewteen a parent of one of my 12th grade students and one of my senior students. The parent, who sat on my right, has a younger daughter who has severe cerebral palsy, and daily this mother has to deal with not only "what if" but "when" her daughter is going to die. The student, who sat to my left, just started attending AA meetings last week, and has been dealing with depression and calling out for help for quite some time. He had recently experienced the death of one of his cousins, which had hit him extremely hard. Sitting between this student and parent, I realized how much sorrow there is - how much pain each one of us goes through in different ways. And yet there is so much joy there too. A parent who cherishes every moment she has with her daughter and finds bright spots within that and in the knowledge that she also has a wonderful and healthy son. A young man who struggles with drug addiction and depression, and yet is excited to have "made it" through six days clean and sober, with a 24-hour chip in his pocket, a "home group," and an AA sponsor. Hope, faith, connection. I held both their hands at different points in the service. I felt blessed. I felt alive. There was a lot of love in both ceremonies I attended. There was also joy in each of them as well. Though the memorial service was incredibly sad and there was much grief in the room, there were also moments of joy. Joy in the life that had been lived, the lives that had been touched, and the spirit of a young woman who will live on as an inspiration to so many. In my classroom, we begin each class period with a ringing of a mindfulness bell and a bow. I call out the name of the first student on the attendance roster and that student then calls the next, and so on until the last student calls out, "Here!" Thursday's roll call in Rachel's section was incredibly difficult. On Friday I asked the students what they would like to do for the remainder of the semester: take Rachel's name off the list or continue to include her in our attendance ritual. Unanimously, the students said that they wanted to continue to include Rachel. So we will. On Friday, each of the 11th grade sections devoted their drama periods to designing prayer flags for Rachel and her family. I had pre-cut card stock and punched holes in the top and the students used pens and markers and wrote prayers, bible verses, quotes, letters, and some drew pictures to Rachel. We strung yarn through the holes of the cards and hung them on the trees in the courtyard. I was introduced to prayer flags at Naropa University a few years ago. Traditionally, prayer flags are used to promote peace, compassion, strength, and wisdom. The flags do not carry prayers to gods, a common misconception; rather, the Tibetans believe the prayers and mantras will be blown by the wind to spread the good will and compassion into all pervading space. Therefore, prayer flags are thought to bring benefit to all. (Wikipedia) I tweaked the idea of the prayer flags a bit for our purposes. It was my hope that the students could cultivate a bit of healing for themselves, for the school community, for Rachel and her family by creating the flags and then sending their messages out into the "wind" - and into the rain as was the case on Friday night and all day Saturday. Rain is cleansing and clearing and I learned that Rachel loved the rain. It was appropriate then that it rained on the afternoon of her passing and, again, on the day of her memorial. It seemed right that the rain should fall on the prayer flags as well(I took a photo - below - of them today, Sunday, post rain).

This morning, as I sat in bed with my cup of coffee and my journal, I wrote a gratitude list - which I try to do every day any way, but today, it felt different. I was struck by the fact that I can so easily forget what is important (even though I practice focusing on that daily). That I can so easily take for granted each moment. I thought about how lucky I am to have had the opportunity to teach - and learn from - both Jamie and Rachel and all my other students. I thought how fortunate I am to lie in bed for just awhile longer on this Sunday morning, and stretch my body under warm covers and see the sunshine streaming through my window. How grateful I am for my family, my friends, my beautiful dog, for my health, for laughter and a sense of a humor, for my life. Dan Millman, athlete, coach, and professor said, "There are no ordinary moments." And Einstein explained, "There are two ways to live your life - one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle." Today, I chose to look at everything as extraordinary, as a miracle. Once out of bed I ate breakfast mindfully (I adapted this from my experience at Deerpark Monastery last summer, and while I had planned on eating a mindful meal once a week upon my return, I honestly, only do so about once a month). I read a mindful eating meditation and then proceeded to chew my food slowly, tasting every bite, noticing each flavor and texture, and thinking about how this food actually came to be and then came to be on my plate. Then I took my dog, Love, for a long walk. It was a beautiful day: sunny, with blue sky, and a slight breezy chill in the air. While I was writing my thesis I always took an "Awareness Walk" with Love in the mornings - making sure to notice as much as I could and doing my best to observe Love and how she "noticed" the world, doing my best to stay completely present. Leaving my phone at home, I set out to enjoy an Awareness Walk this morning. It was wonderful! Again, I felt blessed to get to see and enjoy the little yellow flowers on a tree, to inhale the air, to feel the wind on my cheeks, to hear the click-clack of Love's nails on the pavement, and to take interest in whatever Love seemed so incredibly curious about under this tree or that rock. To not be anywhere but where I was at that moment. I cried today too. I cried over loss, over fears, over a quote I read. I also laughed. I laughed really hard when I couldn't catch an onion I had taken off the shelf before it landed smack-dab into my coffee cup (probably doesn't sound funny, but in the moment it was pretty hilarious). Each of those moments passed. But I had them. I noticed them. I felt them. Laughter, tears, contentment - Love and pain and the whole damn thing. For all of it, I am grateful.

Mindfulness: Understanding and Acceptance

2011-03-06T09:48:00.000-08:00

That nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first mark of existence. It is the ordinary state of affairs. Everything is in process. Everything—every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate—is always changing, moment to moment.
~ Pema Chödrön

Last night I attended a performance at the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts: The Mystical Arts of Tibet: Sacred Music and Sacred Dance for World Healing. The performance was given by a group of monks from the Drepung Loseling Monastery (currently in exile in Karnataka State, in south India).

The monks who performed have been in residence in Scottsdale all week. They created a sand mandala (below) over the course of five days as a way to transmit positive energy to the environment and healing for the world. Today, the monks will perform a ceremony to disassemble the mandala and sweep the millions of grains of sand into flowing water so that the healing blessings of the mandala can continue into the greater world.

The mandala ceremonies also represent impermanence, and how we can honor that in ourselves and in the world.

I am currently taking a class online entitled Awakening Joy, led by James Baraz (one of the founders of Spirit Rock meditation center in Northern California). The class is a ten-month course with another month of wrap-up and follows Baraz's book of the same title. This month's focus is Mindfulness. In his letter of the month, Baraz explains that one of the four properties of Mindfulness is that "as we pay attention, we begin to see for ourselves that the present moment is constantly changing...we can learn to enjoy the roller coaster ride of life, rather than think we will arrive at some fixed destination."

I always find it auspicious when the Universe places people, words, ideas, and such together for me to see (and hopefully, understand) which direction I would most benefit from placing my focus.

Letting go of expectations - of myself, other people, places and things - is another way of practicing Mindfulness, and accepting impermanence. This morning I was scheduled to attend my sangha meditation group. It only meets once a month on Sunday mornings for three hours. It is not a big commitment, yet I have been so over-committed, that when I got up late this morning and after walking my dog, I just didn't have the energy to go. I want to have the energy. I want to be Super Woman. I think I used to be. But I just can't do it any more.

The expectations I place on myself to do everything are too high. Where I used to be able to say "yes" to everything and jump to, I am no longer able, and maybe, I really don't want to. I am realizing with my packed schedule that I need to have a day where I don't do, I simply be. As I sat in bed this morning practicing an Appreciation-in-the-Moment exercise from my online class, I realized that I need to accept what is about myself. Though I feel guilty for not attending the sangha meeting this morning (as attending is not just for my benefit but for others), I came to the conclusion that I need to accept who I am and where I am, and that that means I need to re-think how I do. I decided next month, I will not schedule anything for the Saturday evening prior to my sangha meeting. That way, I can wake up without feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.

As the serenity prayer says (and as Baraz reminded in his letter): "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

*The photo of the sand mandala above was taken last night at the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts. If you would like more information on Tibetan Healing Mandalas please go to: http://www.asia.si.edu/exhibitions/online/mandala/mandala.htm

Run, Walk, Hiccough - Just Move (or Twitch): It's the Mudivator!

2011-01-02T18:25:00.000-08:00

Universe, forgive me, for I have no wind...It has been 75 days since my last blog post...

Do you see this photo? That's me, being eaten alive by the Mudivator.

Have you heard of the Mudivator? The Mudivator is the antithesis of the Motivator. It doesn't propel or encourage you, it eats you alive, sucking away any desire you have to support your own creativity. It's a slimy, sludgy thing. It does things like cause you to sit on the couch and watch five straight hours of repeats of the first season of Sister Wives, all the while eating Twizzlers and Junior Mints - candy that you don't even like. But it's there! And you must indulge - in both the t.v. and the confections. And do you know why? Because the Mudivator has you in its grasp, the dirty scoundrel! It wants to keep you from doing anything that might be healthy for your body, mind, or soul.

You might be thinking thoughts like, "It's New Year's day. I'm going to start fresh: eat right, meditate, indulge my creativity." But it doesn't matter once the Mudivator pulls you down and pulls you in. Even if you had a great first half of the day - you walked, you had time with friends, you ate relatively healthy, read an article on spirituality - you are not immune.

The first step is the hardest: admit you are powerless over the Mudivator. Once it touches you, you're gone, sistah!

You have to believe there is a power greater than yourself who can restore you to creativity. It might be a simple phone call with a friend who casually says, "I see you haven't written on your blog in awhile."

Next, you have to become willing to sit down at your computer and just write...ANYTHING! No editing. Uh, uh. Just type!

So here I am. Just typing.

Now, my dear friend Jill Badonsky created a muse called Lull. Lull is a muse who is there to help inspire by letting us rest and relax. She is not a big "do-er" - and we all know, us creative go-go-go'ers need down time to rev up and to rejuice. And I have definitely needed some Lull. But the thing is, I have been creating the past few months for others. Well, for me too - yes. But I haven't taken the time to tap into my own creative well, just for me. I need a Lull from creating for others, but I need a Marge (another muse - the "Okidokee, let's get started then" muse) to help me create for me.

I use the excuse of "comfort" - but when it's an excuse, that is when my vulnerability factor (a.k.a. laziness, which is different than Lull) sets in and I make room for the MUDIVATOR! So I find myself languishing on a couch, unmotivated and UNcomfortable.

Thanks to the phone call and the willingness to JUST WRITE! I am starting to feel motivated and, in the process, feeling the freedom of the Mudivator's grasp.

"I'm gonna wash that Mud right out of my hair..." - I'm feeeling more creative already!

Stopping to Smell the Oatmeal

2010-10-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

This food is a gift of the earth, the sky, numerous living beings and much hard work.
May we eat with mindfulness and gratitude so as to be worthy to receive it.

May we recognize and transform our unwholesome mental formations, especially our greed, and learn to eat with moderation.
May we keep our compassion alive by eating in such a way that we reduce the suffering of living beings, preserve our planet and reverse the process of global warming.
We accept this food so that we may nurture our brotherhood and sisterhood, strengthen our sangha and nourish our ideal of serving all beings.

~ Eating Meditation, Deerpark Monastery

This morning I made a bowl of oatmeal. I added banana and apple slices, a few almonds and walnuts as well as a few dried cranberries. I lit some candles, took out a cloth napkin, and read aloud the Eating Meditation above. Slowly and deliberately I ate my breakfast in silence.

I tasted the sweetness of the oatmeal and banana. My teeth and tongue felt the softness of the banana and cereal, as well as the crunchiness of the apple, the nuttiness of the walnuts and almonds, and the chewiness of the cranberries.

It took me twenty minutes to eat the whole bowl. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. Except to be be present and mindful of my meal.

Breakfast was delicious and filling.

I attempted to eat at least one mindful meal a week when I returned from Deerpark Monastery this summer. However, I slacked off after two weeks and have only eaten mindfully maybe two or three times since. It was nice to take the time and engage in a mindful meal this morning.

I started thinking about how any mindful practice automatically seems to induce me to be more mindful in all areas. Following breakfast, I removed a big load of laundry from the dryer. I have been listening to Jack Kornfield's book After the Ecstasy, the Laundry on CD in my car (thanks to my friend, Joan, for passing that along to me). Having just returned from a trip to California which included the opportunity to hear HH the Dalai Lama, enjoy time with some of my oldest and dearest friends, as well as time off work, I would say it was a fairly "ecstatic" trip. Easy to be present, easy to tap into all that is good. At home, life resumes in regularity. Ordinariness.

As I folded my warm, clean clothes this morning, I realized how much I enjoy this simple, ordinary, "regular" chore....well, I enjoy it when I have time and choose not to think about it as a "chore."

As I folded my clothes, I thought about how nice it was to fold them, to take care of these things that are important to my daily life. How grateful I am to have clothes of my choosing, that I can afford, and that I have a washer and dryer in my home to help me keep them clean. I noticed the different patterns in my socks and my underwear (and thought what a funny breed we are to make such "necessities" such fun), I felt the contrast in the differing materials - jeans, T-shirts, bras.

The extraordinary in the ordinary. The beauty in the mundane.

And then my thoughts turned to my students.

Parent-Teacher Conferences begin tomorrow. Every student is different. Each have different needs, motivations, ideas, ways of learning and taking in information. Each come from different families, backgrounds, ways of looking at the world. So do their parents.

Sometimes I forget how extraordinary each of these people are. It's not that I don't see my students as individuals (or their parents), it's just that sometimes I get wrapped up in my needs and my ideas in the course of the day: Am I providing the best information? The right information? Am I teaching the class well? If so-and-so isn't paying attention, what happens to the class as a whole? Not that these are "bad" thoughts to have, it's just that I sometimes forget that each and every student has their own agenda, their own needs, their own own-ness (I am not sure what "own-ness" actually is, but I can't think of a better word right now).

Each student is an extraordinary being. So are each student's parents. In the course of an ordinary day, if I am not paying attention, I can miss that truth.

May I be present for each of my students and their parents. May I listen to each of them deeply. May I speak with only right speech; with attention, care, and compassion. May I share only that which is necessary, helpful, kind, and truthful.

May I stop and TRULY smell the oatmeal!

Becoming Comfortable with Impermanence (Kinda, Sort-of, More-So-Than-I-Used-To-Be)

2010-10-02T08:21:00.000-07:00

One must accept the serenity of the winged life, of ebb and flow, of intermittency.
~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Buddhism acknowledges impermanence as a way of life. Old time members of Alcoholics Anonymous tout (and rely on) the slogan, "this, too, shall pass." Though I have intellectually understood the idea of change - and, of course, have experienced it for over 46 years - emotionally, at times, I have often fought against this idea with a vengeance: holding on to what I [think I] want, how I would like things to be - often leaving deeply embedded nail marks on people, places, things, and situations, as I have, to no avail, refused to let go.

Over the past couple of years, I have started to release my tight grasp, have begun to let go (or, at least, let be), of what I want or how I think things should be and have started to accept people, places, things, and situations as they are right now. Not always. Not in every moment and not in every situation. But definitely much more often.

This past summer and this new school year have given me the opportunity to practice flowing with impermanence on a very conscious level. First, I graduated in June, and while it has been a luxury to have some extra time and to have the pressure of assignments, papers, and deadlines removed, the loss of the intensity, the intellectual, emotional and spiritual challenges, and the loss (albeit, not completely, just daily) of a close community of people who share a common language and goals has left me feeling a bit hollowed.

I also let go of a relationship that I had been hanging onto two years too long. While I am aware that this is actually a positive change, it has been an adjustment.

This current school year has given me the chance to switch teaching hats. I moved from a full-time 6th grade teacher into the role of Drama teacher, where I spend my days teaching both sixth and twelfth grade students. I have missed having a contained classroom, and have struggled with the transition of teaching older students, who are in many instances, "set in their ways."

However, there have been some lovely moments through all of these changes as well. There is a kind of serenity within that I don't recall having before. I am more want to notice what I am feeling, as well as my responses to different people and situations, with an "Isn't that interesting?" perspective rather than a reactive one. I believe that all my years in AA coupled predominantly with my Naropa education and continuing journey in Buddhist practices are helping me to become much more mindful of who I am and what I am doing in the here and now.
Psychotherapist, writer, teacher and co-founding member of Spirit Rock Meditation Center, Sylvia Boorstein says:

Mindfulness is the aware, balanced acceptance of the present experience.
It isn't more complicated than that. It is opening to or receiving the present moment, pleasant or unpleasant, just as it is, without either clinging to it or rejecting it.

Maintaining my personal ritual practices (i.e. daily meditation, awareness walks with my dog, Love - albeit only about once a week now) since graduation has helped immensely to be sure. Shamatha, in particular, has been a very important component - I believe - in my ability to ebb and flow with daily impermanence, as well as with the "bigger" changes that have come my way.
Also, deepening my practice through the time I spent at Deerpark Monastery, continuing my Shambhala Training (I completed my Level 3 Training a few weeks ago and will be taking my Level 4 Training in November), and also beginning to meet with a monthly sangha meditation group have also helped to keep me balanced when life's winds seem to kick up and throw me a bit off course. I "take comfort" in my continuing practice.

My friend, Debbie, snapped the above photo outside a Starbucks store recently and sent it to my cell phone. It made me smile, as I received it while I was at work and the timing could not have been better. I had been ruminating about my classroom rituals. Last year they were such a meaningful part of my class work. This year, they seem to be practiced more along the lines of routine. I have been wondering if it was the way I introduced them....or if it is the way my students have seemed to only semi-embrace them...or perhaps there is something else that has led me to feeling that the rituals we are practicing don't feel sacred like they did in the past.

However, by simply continuing to practice them, I do take comfort in the rituals themselves. It reminds me of Mother Teresa and how she wrote in her diary and confided in her spiritual counselors that she had experienced the loss of her faith and yet she continued to perform service work and prayer. I am also reminded of my acting training where I was encouraged to be present and to "come from where you are" and at the same time, knowing when it is important to rely on technique.

And yet, I know - I really do know - that this, too, shall pass. My classroom rituals will have meaning again. Or perhaps I will let go of some and add anew. And maybe in being present for the fact that my classroom ritual practices feel a bit meaning-less, I can begin to understand what they might mean on a deeper level. I trust "that nothing is static or fixed," as Pema Chödrön reminds us:

Everything is in process. Everything—every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate—is always changing, moment to moment.

And so it is.

Coming From Where I Am, Meeting People Where They Are

2010-08-21T09:11:00.000-07:00

A dandelion never apologizes for itself. ~ Alexandra Shenpen

It's been a few weeks since I last wrote. My plan was to post consistently on this blog - at least once a week - to be delightfully disciplined in chronicling my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, post-thesis. However, as I currently sit at my computer I am thinking of the gentle 12-Step reminder to "plan the plans, not the outcome." And, per usual, the way most things happen in my life are not due to my arrangement of plans, but how I flow with the experiences.

Am I in "flow" now? Hmmm...somewhat. In some ways, I believe I am allowing myself to be and welcoming whatever is yet to come (this is actually an aspiration I created for myself just over a year ago when I left my second summer intensive at Naropa). I would chalk that up to my daily sitting practice, daily readings of all kinds of spiritual materials (books, articles, affirmations), and my willingness - more times than not - to pause and breathe before I allow myself to impulsively react.

That being said, the other "somewhat" here is that so often I feel exhausted. I am not sure if this is simply a part of my "coming down" process from the whole experience of going, going for two straight years: creating a new curriculum, teaching full-time +, attending to my own Masters studies and writing a thesis, or if there is something else going on, such as 105-113 degree days on end while adjusting to a new schedule/new mind-set at work (I am teaching two sections of sixth graders and three sections of twelfth graders drama, as opposed to teaching in a - mostly self-contained sixth grade classroom) this year. Or, perhaps, it's a combination of these things...or even something else (what that would be, I do not know).

So what I am saying is I don't feel quite like I am "joyfully exerting" myself. On the other hand, I am also enjoying my work and my students. I am experiencing paradox. I am hoping for a Parker Palmer insight to install itself into this paragraph. And I am also thinking that a little Pema-ism (as in, Chödrön) is in order here (i.e. "Start where you are.").

So here I am: feeling generous of spirit, wanting to joyfully exert myself, being more patient than usual (but still wanting it all "now" and "my way," don'tcha know), being semi-disciplined (sitting meditation, yes, everything else: here and there), and yet feeling lethargic, numb, and worn out.

I am also noticing my reactions in different situations. I read an article by Noah Levine (founding teacher of the Against the Stream Buddhist Meditation Society) in the September issue of Shambhala Sun where he uses the term "response-ability." That struck a chord in me. When I breathe, pause, and truly listen - to myself (my gut, my heart), and to others - my ability to respond comes from a place of compassion, from a wiser place than "my thinking is right" mind. I have noticed my internal response is reaction: defense sprung from fear. I have noticed when I wait, when I pause, when I remain truly present to the experience of self and others, my ability to respond with an open mind and heart is a much better - and even more practical - way to acknowledge and behave.

I gave my Department Head, Ed, at school two ten-minute plays that I was thinking about using with my Senior students for their semester performances. A few mornings ago Ed said to me in a very serious tone, "Nicky, I'd like to make some time to talk to you about those plays you are considering." Immediately I felt my defenses go up. "What's wrong with the plays?" I thought. "He thinks I make bad choices. He's sorry he thought I'd be a good choice for drama teacher." I walked around feeling agitated all day with these thoughts and feelings.

After school that day, I met with Ed. He told me he really enjoyed the pieces I gave him (though he said, I should cut the expletives and the reference to masturbation - which I was planning to do anyway). He said he just felt like it was his responsibility to let me know that we work in a very, very conservative community and he wanted to be my advocate and make sure I made choices (he said he would never tell me what I should and shouldn't do) that wouldn't cause me to have to deal with negative backlash.

Oh.

Thank you, Ed. And thank you, Universe, for another lesson learned. Pause. Listen.

I was so grateful for that dialogue. The next day I brought in one of the pieces for my students to read. One section had a completely negative response to the piece. One section was split, and the third found it humorous though they didn't quite get all the cultural/theatrical references. I decided to nix that piece. Though I want to challenge my students, I also want to meet them on their terms - where they are.

I have heard from several people who graduated the Naropa program the year before I did, that their year teaching post-graduation was a really difficult one...for a few different reasons. My friend, Joan, theorized that the difficulty may come from something that is actually a "good" thing: we are über-aware, and therefore, our sensitivity to everything is heightened. I have a feeling that I may have a somewhat-difficult year just from all that I noted at the beginning of this post. However, knowing that I can practice the paramitas of patience, generosity, discipline, meditation, joyful exertion, and prajna in order to ride the year with some grace (hopefully) and ease, allows me to believe that this year will unfold as it should and all will be well even with bumps along the way.

Do not fear the winds of adversity. Remember: A kite rises against the wind rather than with it.
~ Author Unknown

Each difficult moment has the potential to open my eyes and open my heart.
~ Myla Kabat-Zinn

I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders.
~ Jewish Proverb

This is where I am. Today.

Happy to be here.

Spirituality Isn't Just Found on a Mountain Top...You Can Find it at Loews

2010-07-31T08:18:00.000-07:00

There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophies. My brain and my heart are my temples; my philosophy is kindness. ~ Dalai Lama

Last week, while shopping at Soul Scape Gift & Bookstore in Encinitas, CA, I bought a stone slab with the above quote etched into it. It is now hanging on a wall in my livingroom.

My understanding of Buddhism is that God - a Higher Power, the Universe, the Divine - exists in the moment...in this moment. The Quakers say that the God in me sees the God in you. And Michael Levin who authored The Complete Idiot's Guide to Jewish Spirituality & Mysticism explains that spirituality is really all about striving to be the best person one can be. Compassion for self and all living beings, authentic connection with all sentient beings, ecology and the environment, feeling true joy and true sorrow and everything in between are all part of what it means to be spiritual.

After attending 12-Step programs for many a year, completing a two-year Masters program at Naropa University this past June, in the midst of taking Shambhala Training (I take my Level Three training next month), and most recently attended a five-day retreat at Deerpark Monastery, I am realizing more and more how each moment offers an opportunity for spiritual growth. How each moment offers me the chance to wake up.

I have studied acting for a major part of my life. Six very important components of acting are: 1) To stay present, 2) To connect to your breath, 3) To be aware - of self, others, space, and the world, 4) To develop compassion for self, others (including your the character you're playing), and the greater world, and 5) To be of service to the playwright, the director, one's fellow actors, and to the audience, 6) To cultivate joyful discipline of one's craft and whatever supports that.

These are the lessons I have found, too, in 12-Step programs, at Naropa, and in all that I have learned so far about Buddhism. Funny that I have to keep learning these lessons over and over. That I need constant reminders (little Mindfulness Bells going off daily). That when the student really is ready the teacher/teachings appear.

While at the retreat at Deerpark, I met a woman who had attended the retreat the previous year when Thich Nhat Hahn was at the Monastery. On our second-to-last day I asked her if she was enjoying the retreat this year as much as last. She replied, "No." Oh, I thought. Wow. "Can you describe why," I asked. She said, "It's just not as spiritual this year. It's fun and everything, but It's just not very spiritual."

Not spiritual?!

I thought everything about the retreat was spiritual. The land, the sky. The silence. The smiles and laughter. The meditation. The monks and nuns. The dharma talks and discussions. Mindful everything. The connections with others.

Hmm...I thought.

That evening, as we gathered for "Family Dinner" (eating just with our dharma discussion /service groups), the woman I had talked to didn't show up. I later heard from someone that she had eaten dinner with someone else. She also didn't attend the "Be In" (a celebration of performances) that evening, our final night at the retreat.

At first I judged her (I suppose, to be honest, I still do). I thought., "She's obviously missed the point. If she thinks spirituality can only be found in a Master Teacher, and can't feel/see that spirituality is right here. It's about being present and showing up." Hmph! (said, self-righteous little ol' me).

Upon a bit more reflection, I thought, "Well, this is that woman's path. She is probably right where she is supposed to be. It's not right of me to judge her on what she says and what she thinks. We don't have to share the same point of view. We had that discussion for a reason. Perhaps more will be revealed to me and to her."

Good thoughts. Though I didn't really buy into them. "Fake it 'til you make it," though (so I've been taught).

I remember when I first started going to 12-Step meetings. I was pretty much agnostic, had never really thought that much about God one way or another (except when I was about ten and read Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret and the main character said her parents had said, "God is a nice idea."). I was told that I needed to find a Higher Power - a power greater than myself.

First, under the guidance of my first sponsor, I used the group as a power greater than myself. Somewhere in my first year I felt the need to believe in "God," so I conjured up some old biblical idea of the man with the long white beard and the staff - a sort of Sistine Chapel-esque type of God. That kinda worked, but after awhile it seemed like a very narrow view of the Divine.

Over the years, my idea of God changed. I don't even know what God is anymore...the Universe? A Divine Force? Anything and everything? A feeling? A sense? God is a three-letter word and it easily rolls of my tongue, but I don't know what God really is. However, the idea of being present, open and alive in every moment makes sense to me. Being kind and compassionate makes sense to me. Having a sense, of curiosity, wonder and awe makes sense to me. Feeling every emotion fully makes sense to me. That is spirituality to me.

But it took me many years to fully come to this. And, so, who am I to judge the woman at the retreat and her path?

Yesterday I went to Loews to purchase some cinder blocks for some bookshelves I was constructing for my apartment. I got one of those big dollys and bought 12 cinder blocks. Though it really took a lot of upper-body strength for me to push that dolly, when the cashier asked me if I needed help, I declined. It actually felt really good to "joyfully exert" myself physically.

However, when I got to my car, an elderly gentleman in a pick-up truck made a U-turn and parked himself right next to my car. His window was open and he said, "I'm going to help you with that."

"Oh, no. That's okay. Thank you," I said.

"No, no," said the man getting out of his truck. "I'm going to do that."

I watched as this man carefully arranged each cinder block into my trunk.

"What's your name?," I asked.

"Paul."

"Hi, Paul," I extended my hand. "I'm Nicky."

"Nice to meet you," he said.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "Thank you so much for your help. That was really great."

"You're welcome," he told me. "Have a nice life."

"You too," I said.

I watched him drive off in his truck. A simple encounter. An act of kindness. That man and I will probably never meet again. But for a few minutes we had a connection. Paul's act of kindness set the stage for the rest of my day. Reminding me to be kind, to smile, to be of help if needed.

No mountain top or Master Teacher required. Kindness - spirituality - can be found in the parking lot of your neighborhood Loews.

Breathing and Smiling

2010-07-27T00:11:00.000-07:00

After a five-day retreat at Deerpark Monastery (http://www.deerparkmonastery.org/) I am enjoying some Buddha-spaciousness. I am grateful for my time at the Monastery, to all the monks, nuns, and the entire community at the retreat. I am breathing. I am smiling. I am enjoying the moment and looking forward to what is yet to come.

Jump Start

2010-07-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

Tradition simply means that we need to end what began well and continue what is worth continuing. ~ Jose Bergamin

Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Understand that the right to choose your own path is a sacred privilege. Use it. Dwell in possibility. ~ Oprah Winfrey

Here I go...

Done...ish

2010-06-01T10:18:00.000-07:00

Thesis written and edited. Written some more and edited some more. Page numbers inserted (after hitting my head against the wall for an hour and a half) as best as I possibly could insert them. The Thesis, in its entirety, emailed to Thesis Instructor and Thesis Advisor by 10:00 A.M. on the due date of June 1, 2010.

Let all that be noted.

For posterity or for whatever. Just let it be noted.

What does one do after one is done with such an endeavor. I feel spent and empty all at the same time.

I have much to do to prepare for my Thesis Presentation on June 25. I also have much to do to finish up my teaching school year (enter grades, break down a set, clean out my classroom and office space, and start planning for fall). Yet, it all pales compared to what I just completed...at the moment.

And yet, what I completed doesn't even feel complete. There was so much I had to leave out - so much research, so many ideas...

Lee Worley always instructs her students to be aware of intensification and Space - to feel both fully. And to make Space our friend. Lee encourages, "notice what you notice." I am noticing it all, I am feeling it all. It's a bit overwhelming at the moment. It's all good. It's all good because I'm present and showing up for it all. I do, however, want to get back in bed and stay there for awhile, covers up. But I can't today. Or tomorrow. But I just might do that next week when I have some time. But by then, I may not want to. So I'll have to see how I'm feeling then.

But for now, I'm done.

Ish.

The Journey, the Wait, and the Weight Lifted

2010-05-16T11:07:00.000-07:00

It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end.
- Ursula K. LeGuin

I completed my thesis. I wrote the last sentence to the last chapter on Thursday evening, May 13 at 9:25 PM.

And though I completed my thesis, it isn't exactly complete. I am awaiting comments from my Thesis Advisor and red marks from my Thesis Reader. I still have to clean up my citations and write my Gratitudes. But, nonetheless, I finished my thesis!

I FINISHED MY THESIS!!!

When I told my mother Friday night, she said she was so happy to hear it because she thought I was, literally, having a nervous breakdown and wouldn't graduate (ahh- she of little faith! - I am joking, of course, as both my mother and father have been my biggest supporters throughout this entire process). However, I was beginning to feel like I was going to have a nervous breakdown and not finish my thesis either! The last few weeks have been grueling.

It's been almost a month since I last posted on this blog. Between teaching and writing this "tome" - and that's what it feels like printed out, holding it in my hands - I haven't had the time or even the desire to write anything more than I have to.

I still have a ton to do: the school year is coming to a close and I have two drama productions to prep for, tests to write, finals to put together, a stack of grading left to do, not to mention doing the re-writes for my thesis when I get my comments back from my Advisor and Reader, and prepping for my Presentation on June 25. At the same time, I truly feel like I can do ANYTHING! Send it my way: I can deal with it!

So, while I am awaiting feedback, a humongous weight has been lifted off my shoulders, my chest, my mind - heck: my whole being!

Thank you to all of my friends, co-workers, and family members who have gone on this journey with me - listened to me bitch, supported me through and through, and who cried tears of joy with me the past few days. This has certainly been one of the most challenging things - and one of the greatest things - I have ever done...and I'm still doing it. But it's wonderful and exhilarating to have hit a milestone along the way.

Analysis and Charting and Organizing - Oh, My!

2010-04-18T01:56:00.001-07:00

Data, that is. Here is my work from this weekend, thus far. My Thesis Advisor helped me devise a plan of breaking down my data for my "Findings" chapter. Charting the data and putting it up on my wall so I could see it all - really get a good visual about the information I collected. I ended up charting my data in somewhat similar, but different ways - depending on what seemed like the best way to go. For example, the data I charted about "Other Teacher Practices" - for their in-class practices, I cut and pasted my already-typed up information. Then I made a column for the commonalities I found. When charting my students' responses, I used general themes that were expressed about each ritual practice. At any rate - I got something done. Something I can work with to begin writing up my data/analysis.

Above: Other teacher data (top: classroom practices; below: personal practices)

Above: Top - In-class rituals charted by how often they are used as well as which "Need" they feed. Bottom - Maslow's "Hierarchy of Needs" pyramid and key.

Above: Top - In-class rituals (in my classroom), with overall/major responses by students to each ritual practice, as well as their imnplications *(referenced also are Maslow's "Needs" and what categories each ritual fulfills: community, connection, and/or compassion). Below - My personal ritual practices outside of the classroom: how often I practice them, the Maslow and "Three C's" connections, and the benefits/impact on teaching these rituals provide.

Space and Abstract

2010-04-14T23:02:00.000-07:00

Having given myself alomost a week off from posting on this here blog, I am reaping the benefits of a little bit more room to explore and write my thesis. While the past week was extraordinarily busy, I managed to get my thesis abstract written, made some headway organizing my data, and had a terrific meeting with my Thesis Advisor this evening, who helped me create a structure for my "Findings" chapter.

I feel a bit more centered with the direction my thesis is moving in. There is definitely more clarity. I tweaked the title a bit - and that helped, and I'm putting more empasis on the connection between Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs than I had before. It is helping everything else fall into place.

Below is a copy of my Thesis Abstract:

Ritual Practices: Pathways to Cultivating Community, Connection, and Compassion (in and out of the classroom)

This thesis explores ritual practices as they are used by the author outside of her classroom and with her students in the classroom. Studies have shown that a sense of safety, well-being, and belonging are essential for learning. To learn deeply, one must take risks, develop a sense of wonder and curiosity, plunge inward and practice self-examination. This paper will examine how ritual practices can serve as pathways to cultivating community, connection, and compassion within teachers and students, fulfilling the basic essential needs of every human being, and subsequently leading to deeper learning and connections between self, others, the environment, and the greater world at large.

It feels good to post tonight. I have to admit I've been jones-ing a bit to write, but I committed to staying focused on the Big Kahuna (a.k.a. the Thesis itself), and that is where my energy belongs.

Whomever reads this: thank you. Thank you for helping me stay accountable to writing. There is a lot on this blog that doesn't have to do with my thesis. However, there is a lot that does, and some of those pieces are part of my data. I am so grateful that I chose this type of journal format. It has been a blessing throughout this process.

Making Room for Buddha

2010-04-08T20:48:00.000-07:00

My thesis advisor told me tonight that she dreamed about me in my green car this past week.

I don't think I've mentioned the green car yet. The color green is representative of Karma energy - wind energy. Karma is action. It is moving, doing. I drive a green car. A green Prius, to be exact. Oh, no - not in the relative world...I drive my little green Prius in my very-full, subjective mind.

My green car transports me and all that I do: all my inner methods that are supposed to help me, like meditating, blogging, Morning Pages, Enso practice, Awareness Walks. Last week, my thesis advisor, Mary, encouraged me to welcome more Buddha energy into my world and into my thesis process. Buddha energy: white. Space.

Tonight Mary asked me if I could drop some of these inner methods off for awhile. She said they could go somehwere fun, like Disneyland. She said if I dropped some of these guys off, I would have room for Buddha in my car. And then my green car would be less green and become a bit more white. She said I didn't have to completely drop these methods...just let 'em go play somewhere else for awhile. She said, I needed to make more room...so I could write my thesis.

Scary.

Who am I without these methods? I've already cut back on my Enso practice and my Morning Pages. If I cut back more, am I doing enough? Will I be lazy? Will my thesis still be "good enough?"

But then I visualized Buddha energy in my car. I could see it. I could feel it. And it made sense. I am overwhelmed between my thesis work and the work I do for my teaching job. I overwhelm myself more by cramming up my little green car with inner methods. What if the inner methods are taking away from the process rather than benefitting it at this point? And what if I let them go - let them out of the car and dropped them off (somewhere safe) - for awhile?

Hmmm...

Okay. Okay...yeah...yes...I can do that. I think. I can let go of some of my inner methods. I've basically let go of Enso and Morning writing already, so, yeah: I can give those up. For now. Awareness Walks? Well, I have to walk my dog anyway...but sometimes I could walk Love in the mornings without being hyper-vigilant about being "aware." Okay. Sometimes I'll take Awareness Walks and sometimes I won't. Meditation? Well - no. I can't give that up. It's uber-grounding and helps me in so many ways - and it's part of my program. So shamatha stays in the car. But what about the blog? Must I blog every day? Right now? In the last six-seven weeks of my thesis, when I will be writing and writing and writing? Oh - oh...o..k..aa...y. I can give up blogging...every day...but I will still blog once or twice a week! Phew!

So, where will all these inner methods go - for awhile? Hmmm...Somewhere fun, Mary encouraged. And you can pick them up in the not-too-distant future, she promised. Well, then...Oh, I know: the Hotel Sofitel in downtown Chicago! 800 thread-count Egyptian sheets, with fluffy white comforters and pillows. My inner methods can jump on the bed, snuggle under the covers, order room service, sleep, watch cable, sleep some more, read any books they want, sleep some more.

Okay. This is starting to feel do-able.

As I hunker down (with a rough draft of Chapters four and five of my thesis due Thursday, April 22, and a full rough draft due May 1), it makes sense to let go a bit, drop off some of those inner methods at the Sofitel, and open up some space in that little green car o'mine.

So I won't be posting tomorrow. That seems odd. Mary said it's like when you're going through a break up. It's really uncomfortable in the beginning. Well, I've been uncomfortable before. Many times. I've lived through it. And, ultimately, the discomfort always changed...always turned into a new kind of comfort. So, here I go...

Space, space, space, space, space...

The Quest

2010-04-07T22:26:00.000-07:00

To be on a quest is nothing more or less than to become an asker of questions.
- Sam Keen

Even if I walk away from my thesis for a whole day, it stays with me. It is always in the back of mind from morniong 'til night. Even during the school day, when I am focused on my students and what we are doing in the moment, my thesis is always looming, asking the questions throughout the day, in that tiney, quiet thesis voice in the back of my mind.

This morning during drama rehearsal, the girls and I choreographed movements for a song in the play called Jackmaker (sung to the tune of Matchmaker from Fiddler on the Roof). I gave them direction, and then they came up with a few better moves. It was a collaborative process, and it was a really nice interchange of give and take.

As we were going back to our classroom (we rehearse outside where we have more space), some of the students were singing the Jackmaker song and a few of the kids were singing another song from the show. It wasn't anything monumental - it was just really nice to see/hear the students enjoying the song and the comraderie that comes with working on a production.

In Language Arts, our discussion turned to peer pressure and conformity - as the theme of individuality v. conformity runs through the book we are currently reading, A Wrinkle in Time. I asked questions, the students asked questions and we had a really thoughtful discussion.

Later in the day, during Social Studies, my students had the option sof working individually, in pairs or small groups to read a packet on ancient Rome and answer specific questions (on paper). I walked around (some were outside, some were in the classroom) and spent some time chatting and asking questions regarding the reading with some of the students. At the end of the period, we all met back in classroom and had an all-class discussion to wind up the reading. The students all had thoughts and feelings to share about the reading, and we also began (we ran out of time) to make comparisons to the book we ae currently reading as our read-aloud book, The Giver.

Throughout the day, my students and I engaged in play, in study, and in discussion. We shared ideas, thoughts, and experiences. We connected in different ways, on different levels.

As I said: this isn't monumental. It is just part of our day to day. And yet I wonder if we are able to have the conversations/discussions we do because of who we are, or because of the atmosphere we have created. Through ritual. And I wonder, if what I am seeing/feeling is seen/felt by my students - which, I think it is, from what they've told me.

Tonight, I typed up answers to questions from the "non-contemplative" questionnaires I received back from some of my fellow colleagues. I also cut/pasted answers from an online survey I conducted with three Naropa graduates. This will be part of my "Findings" chapter in my thesis. I thought about (and asked questions) about the answers I received, how I conducted the surveys, the questions I asked,,,Did I ask enough? Did I use enough teachers? What does this data offer me? What are its implications - if any?

In the musical, Man of La Mancha, Don Quixote tells Aldonza, "Whether I win or lose does not matter." She then asks, "What does?" Don Quixote replies, "Only that I follow the quest."

So every day, I do my best to remain open and aware. I continue to "notice what I notice" (per Lee Worley), and I continue to ask questions...to seek...to quest. I just can't seem to not do that.

Don Quixote sings:

And I know, if I'll only be true
To this glorious Quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest.

And I will be peaceful - I hope - when I am done with my thesis.

Data Collection: The Latest Technology

2010-04-06T21:00:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking about all the information I need to write up in my computer. Some of it is on paper, awaiting to be transferred into my computer. But much is in my head.

When are the Microsoft, IBM, or Apple people gonna invent a port-in-the-head? At this point, shouldn't there be some kind of port in our head so that one could simply stick a flash drive in, gather and transfer the data, and then just stick the flash drive into the computer, and, voila - the data is all on the computer, ready to be copied and pasted into a document?!

I think that this would be an invaluable invention.

And while "they're" at it, don't you think at this point plastic surgery should be advanced enough that no surgery would be required? For example: couldn't "they" just simply invent a contraption that could push belly fat into the butt area (or vice-versa)?! It would be non-invasive, more people would be want to invest in the procedure, and I - well - I would be very happy.

Fat removed. Check.
Thesis done. Check.

Ahh...if it could all be just that simple!

PLAYing Around

2010-04-05T23:12:00.000-07:00

It's late. I can't think of a thing to post this evening that is thesis-oriented nor really awareness-oriented, or even political...except: Grrr...well, don't get me started.

Legislation was approved regarding a bill in Arizona that would require eighth graders to MEMORIZE questions from the U.S. citizenship exam, in order to pass eighth grade. The information wouldn't be taught in class. The questions and answers would be posted on school's websites so that students could MEMORIZE them. Hmmm...Lots of learning and understanding happening there. Here's the website, should you care to see how much farther downhill Arizona can go in terms of education: http://www.eastvalleytribune.com/story/152532.

Anyway - I am about to go to bed and I don't want to go there angry and have icky dreams.

I spent the past few hours working on revising two plays that my students are currently working on in drama. I wrote both plays quite awhile back for my fourth grade students when I taught in a private school just North of Chicago. Currently, I am revising them and adding eight more characters to one of the plays and ten more to the other, so that my students can rehearse them and perform them them as their Drama final in May.

The article above regarding the new education legislation has me angry. I don't want my students - any students - to simply memorize facts, or even lines for a play, simply to memorize them and then forget them. Learning by rote is just fine, if one is using that as a tool to get to the heart of something. For example: it's often quite good to learn your lines by rote, so that when you are in rehearsals, you aren't intoning the line with false emotion. It is so important to make character discoveries and relationship discoveries in the moment, during rehearsals (and, in live theatre - even during performance, albeit in much more subtle ways).

I am not against learning certain facts by rote either. But after the initial memorization, one must go deeper to understand exactly what one learned. What is the significance/meaning of what was memorized. How doe s this information connect with other information? Where does it fall into a bigger picture? If information is simply memorized with no real content behind it, as soon as the information is "spit" back out, it doesn't typically remain in the brain, in the psyche, or in the body. Poof - it goes away.

Though my students are asked to memorize their lines a week after they receive a section (I am giving my students the plays in piecemeal), they are encouraged to get their heads out of their scripts and relate to one another. They need to know what they are actually saying, not simply saying lines because they're there on the page. They need to know what their character's objective is (what the character wants) and stay focused on that. They need to be aware of their bodies on stage.

While I've been "play"ing around this evening, I don't find this new Bill to be anything near funny, and I think it has some very serious implications for Arizona's children and their education.

Awareness Times Two

2010-04-04T12:09:00.000-07:00

My father took a road trip to New Mexico this weekend. On his way, he stopped in Tempe and left me to babysit his dog over the weekend.

Bandit is also a Border Collie. Male. He and Love have spent a great deal of time together both at my home, and mostly at my dad's. Upon their first meeting, it was a bit tentative, especially because Love is so gosh-darn territorial and jealous. Their relationship is a little bit edgy, here and there, but they get along fairly well now. They kiss when they greet each other and, at times, they play together as well.

Walking them is always an interesting excursion - particularly so when only one person is walking them together.

First of all, they are both black and white. Though they have completely different body types, and completely different types of fur and markings, the fact that they share the same color scheme, makes them a very cute match. Second, they have completely different ways of "being" in their worlds: the way they move, how they sniff out certain areas, and even how they take their poos and pees (Bandit, leg up over a bush or tree to pee; Love, squatting daintily...Bandit runs back and forth and back and forth over and over, covering a small track of land in order to ready himself for a poo; Love simply squats as if she is giving birth to a watermelon).

Despite their differences, there are times when they sync up and walk side by side, at a similar pace, and times when they go nose-to-nose to sniff a specific scent. They also seem quite respectful of one another when one wants to stop and sniff out a particular area, and the other seems to care less. One will always wait for the other to finish his or her time with a specific smell, or a scratch against a bush, or piece of lawn, or when each of them does their "business."

Both dogs get super-sonic-excited when they know they are going to go for a walk. Love hops, bounds, and bounces all over the place and Bandit bays and whines - as if they are both going to Doggy Disneyland with handfuls of "E" tickets for the best doggy-rides EVER! I am not kidding. To be a dog: to get that excited about going for a walk, every single time, no matter how many times they've gone out in one day. That's the way to live!

Walking the two at the same time has its complications. They twist up, their leashes get tangled, they walk on opposite sides of poles and pillars. In order to stay vertical, I have to be completely present and aware of my surroundings and what both dogs are doing. It becomes a dance of sorts, and the three of us perform a very intricate pas de trois that can be quite humorous - especially when I take my eyes off of one or the other or the both of them.

Even when my dad and I are together with them, we have to make sure we are giving both dogs equal attention, as they vie for both of ours. Alone, I have to be at the top of my game, making sure that they both get equal treats, equal affection, and equal play time. Just like my students: there is no room for favorites when I am acting "mommy" to both dogs. It's a good lesson on awareness, mindfulness, and being as loving and fair as possible.

When the Student is Ready the Teacher Appears...

2010-04-03T21:12:00.001-07:00

...often in the form of a student. Actually, VERY often in the form of a student - in big ways and small ways, and in reminding ways.

On a posting from January 24, I wrote about the Muse Marge, and channeling my "inner brat." I was feeling like I needed a push, and really didn't want to do my thesis work. Tonight, I have been trying to get through grading papers and prepping some vocabulary for Monday. I have much to do tomorrow on my thesis and have two plays I must work on for my students' drama classes on Monday, as well.

NOT -FEELIN' - IT!

However, I received an email this evening from one of my students who told me she's stressed out and tiredand did I have any suggestions about how she could deal with these feelings in terms of her Rome project (which is due on Thursday, that she has had a month to do). I explained to this student that I could completely relate, and that the only suggestion I could give her at this point was to summon her "inner brat" and say, "So what - I'm gonna do it anyway."

We can pout all we want. We can procrastinate. Dig our heels in, and say "no, no, no!" But the fact is, when it comes down to it: the work has to get done. And it's a "me" job - only I can do my own work, and so I better get bratty and get out there.

And here's the thing: sometimes the only thing you can do is simply do it. And here's the other thing: the only way I can expect my students to get this stuff, is if I get this stuff. So I'm getting it.

Darn it.

And, so what!

It's Good that it's Friday

2010-04-02T18:29:00.000-07:00

And it's really good that I am off work.

Good Friday, the day that Jesus died on the cross, is acknowledged all around the globe by Christians, and for some - mostly Catholics - celebrated in ritual church services, and by abstaining from eating meat. Other sects of Christianity observe in other ways.

Whenever Good Friday rolls around, I can't help but think about the Judas character in the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar belting out:

Did you mean to die like that? Was that a mistake, or
Did you know your messy death would be a record breaker?

I am always intrigued that Jesus' life and death changed the world. I am always amazed that - at least as far as I know - the teachings of Jesus taught love, respect, and care for one's fellow man. That he was the guy who said, "live and let live," and "love your neighbor as yourself," and yet so many people who claim to be "Christians" don't choose to follow those teachings. I am amazed in the same way that I am astounded that there are bigoted Jews, and Jews who treat their neighbors with disrespect and condemnation.

Not that I have a clue of what to do with all that I wrote above. Just thinking "out ;oud" here. Between Today and Passover it's been quite a week of contemplation for me. At any rate, it has been really nice to have a day off from the regular rigamoral, to have an opportunity to think and not just do. It's been good. This Friday.

Here!

2010-04-01T21:01:00.000-07:00

Taking attendance can feel like drudgery, or it can provide a structure that prompts direct recognition between your students and you. This means you acknowledge each other - as you are in that moment – by making a visible and verbal connection. As a result, taking roll leads to two related positive outcomes: you’ll know which students are physically present in your class, and also know who is “really there” – in body and in mind (Schoeberlein, 2009, p. 54).

Being that today is April Fool's Day, and also being that today was the day prior to a three-day weekend, my students were quite giddy and mirthful the whole day through.

At our school, we are required to take attendance twice a day: once, first thing in the morning, and again directly after lunch. Today, I was a couple of minutes late returning from lunch. When I arrived in my classroom, all of my students were standing, quietly, at their desks, ready to take attendance, as is customary...But, wait! - Not one student was standing at his or her correct desk. At first I thought that maybe Tania (Mrs. Hipple) - their math teacher - has rearranged their seats. But then I realized, they had all switched their spots as an April Fool's prank.

"Good one," I quipped. "Now you can all take attendance as if you were the person whose desk you are standing at" (I said this with a laugh and a twinkle - not as a reprimand).

I think I've explained this before - but if you missed it: my students all take attendance with one another. I don't call out all their names, I just call out the first student's name on the list, and he calls off the next, and so on. In this way, everyone is accountable for everyone else. Because this ritual practice is done as a community, taking attendance in this way invokes community and connection.

Because all the students here all the names called out in order two times every day, everyone knows the order "by heart." I wasn't surprised that they were able to run down the attendance list so easily today - however, I was surprised that they were so confident reciting the roll, as the "role" they were playing. Attendance sounded just like it always sounds - but with some "odd" sounding voices in place of the regular ones.

A dash of fun and play was just the kind of thing our ritual called for today.

Here, here!

P.P.S. (Post-Passover Seders)

2010-03-31T20:50:00.000-07:00

Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive...
Edward Abbey

Interestingly, life always seems to take me where I had no idea I wanted to go. Sometimes to uncomfortable places - even scary places - so I can learn something I needed to learn in a way I wouldn't have otherwise. Sometimes to places of incredible grace and joy - a place where I grow and stretch, play and celebrate. And sometimes I am taken to a place of relaxtion and contemplation - joyous in its own way, bittersweet in another, and, most definitely filled with "aha's," and "oh, yeses," and questions.

The last place is where I was the past two evenings: at Passover seders. I am blessed with the good fortune of having met and befriended thoughtful, loving, mirthful friends since I moved to Arizona almost two years ago. I am grateful that a few of them have been Jews, with whom I can share a seder table with.

I am not a religious Jew, but Passover has always been my favorite of the holidays. Perhaps it is because it holds such universal meaning and, within that, an underlying sense of gratitude and hope for a better life for all. Maybe it's also because of the tradition and ritual involved with the seder (which means "order" or "sequence") and the retelling of story that makes me feel connected to my Jewish ancestors and entrusted with a sense of "tikkun olam" - a responsibility to do my part in healing the world. And it also may be that I like this holiday so much because it asks that we ask - that we seek, that we wonder, that we dig a little bit deeper...into our selves and who we are in this world: what our purpose is, and why this night - this Passover night - is different from any other night.

Auspicious...serendipitous...call it what you will - but I find it fascinating that I spent two evenings practicing a time-honored ritual that I have partaken in since childhood, whilst in the middle of my thesis...about ritual! That I took time out from my crazy schedule to just sit, just be, and be a part of something bigger than me, and yet something that connects my past and present, connects me to others, and connects me to the greater world.

I wrote about the "Passover questions" in my paper last week, in trying to get at the essence of what makes something a ritual, "How is this activity different from any other activity? Why is it different and set apart? What is it this activity does that no other activity can do?" The problem was, my thesis advisor said this evening, is I haven't answered them. Aha! And that's why we have thesis advisors: to point us in the direction of asking ourselves more questions...and attempting to answer them...or at least, to go forth and seek the answers...and probably run into some more questions.

Funny, too, that I was thinking this afternoon how nice it was to take time out from my schedule to be fully present at these two special dinners - and my thesis advisor pointed out that what I need in my thesis is a bit more Buddha energy - more space energy - within the paper itself. Like my life, my thesis is cluttered. Lots of good thoughts and ideas, my advisor said, just so many that the essence of the sacred is lost in the busy-ness.

Another co-inky-dink: Before my morning meditation on Sunday, I read the following Zen parable:

A man walking across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger chasing after him. Coming to a cliff, he caught hold of a wild vine and swung himself over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Terrified, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger had come, waiting to eat him. Two mice, one white, one black, little by little began to gnaw away at the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!

This story is about letting go of attachment and being present for everything; acknowledging that the sweetness comes with the challenges and difficulties. That all of life is in just one moment.

I read the parable in Pema Chodron's book, Uncomfortable with Uncertainty. My friend, Miles, who created his own Haggadah (special book we read at the Passover dinner), put that very same parable in the book on Sunday for Monday's seder.

That is one big Dayenu ("it would have been enough") right there!

Why is This Night Different From Last Night?

2010-03-30T22:25:00.000-07:00

This would be my "fifth" Passover question...if there was such a thing!

For those of you unfamiliar with the Passover holiday, one of the things I appreciate about the seder is the idea that we are asked to question - to dig deeper.

The thing is, that tonight - not quite so different from last night - I am extremely tired, full, AND must attend to prepping some work for tomorrow. So, once again, I am only "checking in," simply to say that I was, again, delighted with tonight's dinner - with the Passover seder - and am very grateful to have the opportunity to remember why we celebrate this holiday, to be encouraged to question and to think, and to have the chance to spend another night amongst people who are so caring, generous, and thoughtful.

Dayenu ("It would have been enough")!

Don't Want to Pass Over this Night...

2010-03-29T16:44:00.000-07:00

...but I am going to postpone this evening's post.

Tonight marks the beginning of Passover and I have just returned home from a seder - overstuffed (with really great food) and exhausted. I am far too tired to think about posting, and I really want to give this holiday its due: it's history, meaning, and the implication of the seder as a traditional and timeless ritual.

I will be attending a second seder tomorrw night and, I have no doubt, it will give me more food for fodder.

L'Chaim!

Rhyme & Reason

2010-03-28T20:16:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it is because of my studies through Naropa that I have taken to seeing things with a new eye. Or perhaps it is because I am reading books with my students that I first read as a child, and I have a whole new perspective on the words and the story as I am re-reading the books as an adult. Or, perhaps, it is because I keep searching for the connections between literature and life that I keep finding priceless lessons within the pages. Whatever it is, it is exciting and wonderous, and I am always so thrilled when my students "get it" too (sometimes I point it out, but often they see beyond the black ink as well).

We just finished reading Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth this week, as our read-aloud book during homeroom. In the story, Milo, a boy who finds his life to be a complete bore, happens upon a car and a tollbooth in his bedroom one afternoon, and is whisked away on a grand adventure. With a Humbug and a "Watch" dog as companions, Milo is determined to rescue two captive princesses, Rhyme and Reason, and restore them to their thrones. Along the way, Milo becomes "curiouser and curiouser." After finding the princesses, Milo returns to his bedroom realizing that life isn't boring at all - that it's actually, a wonderous journey where there is much to experience along the way.

Here is an excerpt:

“You may not see it now,” said the Princess of Pure Reason..."but whatever we learn has a purpose and whatever we do affects everything and everyone else, if even in the tiniest way. Why, when a housefly flaps his wings, a breeze goes round the world; when a speck of dust falls to the ground, the entire planet weighs a little more; and when you stamp your foot, the earth moves slightly off its course. Whenever you laugh, gladness spreads like the ripples in a pond; and whenever you’re sad, no one anywhere can be really happy. And it’s much the same thing with knowledge, for whenever you learn something new, the whole world becomes that much richer.”

“And remember, also,” added the Princess of Sweet Rhyme, “that many places you would like to see are just off the map and many things you want to know are just out of sight or a little beyond your reach. But someday you’ll reach them all, for what you learn today, for no reason at all, will help you discover all the wonderful secrets of tomorrow.”

- From The Phantom Tollbooth, p. 233-234

A good reminder, I'd say, about trust, staying present, gratitude and perspective.

Is Procrastination a Ritual? (Revisited)

2010-03-27T17:54:00.000-07:00

Back on January 7, I wrote a very short post in response to this entry title. I stated that I wasn't sure. That I was "waiting to find out."

In order to come to a conclusive answer to this title question, I had to do some experiential research. For almost three months now, I have observed myself procrastinating, and here are my results:

First of all, let me be clear: choosing to go to dinner or a movie or anything recreational isn't what I would deem "procrastinating." It is a conscious choice to do something other than what I really should be doing. Procrastination isn't truly conscious. However, it is a necessity. Let me explain:

I discovered that I practice three different means of procrastination. The first type I have named "productive procrastination." When I practice "productive procrastination," I am definitely procrastinating, but at the same time, I am attending to specific tasks that need to be accomplished at some point. These tasks range from household chores, such as washing the dishes, dusting, vacuuming, and folding laundry to focusing on work-related tasks, such as prepping for classes or grading. While these are worthwhile "to-do's," they are also a means of avoiding what I should be working on: namely, my thesis.

The second type of procrastination in which I engage is of the "couch potato" variety. This is procrastination by way of television, books, magazines, crossword puzzles, or suduko. My brain is "engaged," but I am by no means attending to the work I am supposed to be attending to: namely, my thesis.

The third type of procrastination I have explored is what I have dubbed "white fuzz" procrastination. This is where I completely zone out. I may not even be aware that I am avoiding my work, or not attending to it. I go into the "fuzz." This is where I sit, sometimes for ten minutes, sometimes for an hour, and literally do nothing. I mean nothing. I am not even aware that I am doing nothing. It's a time warp. It is almost as if I am biologically procrastinating. My brain shuts down and sends an all-points bulletin to the rest of my body to stop. Completely. But not to sleep. To "fuzz."

I realize that it seems like the three types of procrastination I mentioned above could be choices, However, in my process, they are not. They are a necessity. They are a part of how I do my work. My brain needs to gear up. It needs a "running start" - even if that running start is "white fuzz." I need a respit built into my work bit.

Some people may not need such a thing. Other people might be conscientiously, consciously focused - able to see a task at hand and go at it. Others might say, "play time," like going to dinner or the movies is their "down time," and when they're done with that, they can get on with their work. However, that just isn't the case with me.

I need to procrastinate. I can't quite "pencil it in," or schedule it. My psyche doesn't work that way. But I do have to account for it. Maybe because when I know I need to go to it and focus, I need the urgency factor: the now-or-never kick to get on it...because I have procrastinated.

It used to be that I was embarrassed to admit that I procrastinate. But I am not embarrassed any longer. I am a procrastinator. See? I said it. "Hi, my name is Nicky, and I am a procrastinator." Admittance is the first step to dealing with this fact. And the fact is, that's who I am. That's what I do. But now - now that I have admitted that it's simply a part of my process, it's simply that: part of my process. And I can say that, shame-free.

And, yes: yes it is a ritual...of sorts. A preliminary ritual. Because it has meaning and value to me. It is how I begin. It is a necessary element of my process.

So if there are any other procrastinators out there who are feeling badly about being one: You are not alone. There is hope. Admit who you are and what you do. Turn your mind around to the idea that there is another way to look at it. Accept that procrastination is simply a part of your process, and go on from there.

Here I go...

Dog Depth Morning

2010-03-26T14:10:00.000-07:00

We all know the phrase "keep your nose to the grindstone," but my dog thinks she needs to keep her nose to the sidewalk.

This morning, during our walk, I watched as Love kept her sense of smell completely focused on the pavement. She was like a hound on the hunt. A scientist on the verge of a great discovery. A detective who had a clue that could lead her to solving the big case she was on. Love moved forward with great purpose, intent on following whatever scent her nose picked up.

I was taken with Love's one-track focus, with her intent, with her ability to stay on task. "I want that kind of focus," I thought. I need that kind of focus.

I have so much to do on my thesis this week, and my focus and my energy are waning. I'm tired. I'm antsy. I'm in that I-just-don't-wanna-do-it-Calgon-take-me-away stage. I want what Love's got. I want that focus. I want that "nose-to-the-sidewalk" mentality.

I'm going to do my best this evening, dog-gone-it, as I attempt to complete the third chapter of my thesis. Who knows? - maybe I'll get a new leash on life tonight!

This is a Test of the Emergency Thesis System

2010-03-25T19:15:00.000-07:00

For the next 24 hours this blog will be under a test.

If this were an actual emergency, I wouldn't be posting this here. I wouldn't instruct you where to go and I wouldn't instruct you what to do.

So relax, because this is only a test.

The blog will be up tomorrow with it's regularly scheduled post of whatever is on the mind (or fingertips) of its blogger.

Over and out.

How Do I Love Them? Let Me Count the Ways...

2010-03-24T19:02:00.000-07:00

Today, I took some time during the school day to simply marvel at my students...simply because they are marvel-ous!

1. They "get" it.

This morning we took our bow, and then called off attendance. The student who has the "attendance" job on our Rota list, rolled his eyes and grunted this morning when it was his turn to take the attendance to the office. I took the opportunity to remind him - and the class - what Rota is about: being part of our community. Rota is about stepping up to the plate and being of service to our classroom and to one another. It's a duty, but it's a privilege. I explained that it's like exercising our opportunity to vote in elections or serving on jury duty. The student who had attendance duty smiled shyly and said, "I understand." When we took attendance again after he lunch, he took the attendance sheet to the office without a peep.

Later today some gossip was flying around. One of the students admitted to the class that she had "assumed" something and shared it with several others. She apologized publicly to the student whom she had wrongly named. Her apology was accepted. We then talked about how harmful even small gossip can be. Lots of heads were nodding and everyone agreed that we need to remember that we are in this together, that we are a "family."

2. They take risks...with enthusiasm!

Both my homeroom and my other sixth grade section have grown in leaps and bounds in drama since August. It is a joy to watch them. It's wonderful to be able to give them direction now too and have them "get" that it's direction, not a "blow" to their character or to their work. My students are in the midst of "auditions" for their final productions in May. They are taking it seriously and having fun at the same time. They are supporting each other's work and one another's courage. Way cool!

3. They take part in rich discussions, and practice depth of inquiry.

I am often floored with what my students bring forth and bring out of one another. And they love it! And I love it. We have discussions sometimes where I have to stop them because we run out of time - and they plead with me to keep going! Today wasn't a "pleading" day, but we had a really good discussion - in both my Language Arts sections, actually, and I just felt so proud of my students and so awed by their thoughtfulness.

4. They make me laugh every single day.

Seriously: I laugh my patooty off with my students! They are hilarious. They are silly. They are so smart and quick at times, they completely take me by surprise. I chuckle, I guffaw, I belly laugh, and I have busted a gut laughing so hard I have cried - and on several occasions.

5. They make me remember my humanity. They humble me.

There is nothing I can get away with with my students. They catch everything. And the things they don't say they see, I catch: when I'm dismissive of what someone has to say because I'm "in a bad mood," or "in a hurry." When I "lose it" because I am being impatient, because my expectations aren't met. When I can see in one of my student's faces that I have hurt their feelings or shamed them - even if I hadn't meant to...because I wasn't mindful enough, not aware enough - when I've put me before them. Oh, those moments feel terrible. But I am so grateful for them because they remind me what I need to be doing. They remind me of my purpose.

There are times when my students practice such care and compassion. Someone does something thoughtful - practices a gesture of kindness - and I get to witness it and be reminded of the fact that it's really that simple, that easy: that it's the small things that often mean the most, that make the biggest impact.

For their Language Arts homework this evening the students are writing a reflection based on a line from Madeleine L'Engle's book A Wrinkle in Time. "Don't you know you're the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time?" (p. 60-61). They were asked to think about what it would feel like if someone told them that. They were also asked to think about how their behavior would warrant someone telling them that - and to look at their current behavior: would it compel someone to tell them that they are "the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time?"

When I first re-read that line aloud to my students, I heard a lot of "ohh's" and saw sweet smiles. The room got fairly quiet when I asked, "Can you imagine if someone told you that?" I could tell that most all of them understood the responsibility and the connection that comes with such a compliment.

I suppose I just gave you five reasons why I love my students. I didn't actually give you any "ways" that I love them. But I do. I love them all in so many ways. I imagine if you want to know how I love them, you'll have to ask them yourself! I'm still counting...

Would a Conservative Consider Contemplation...

2010-03-23T17:53:00.000-07:00

...or simply rush to crush-'em-where-it-counts castration?

I realize that I am not sticking to my thesis. I realize this isn't a political blog. However, I just heard a snippet of a speech Sen. (R) John McCain made on NPR this afternoon, that would have made me laugh, had it not been so ridiculous, bordering on sad, to do so. I also need to get this "stuff" out of my head so I can focus on my thesis.

Pardon my paraphrasing, but first McCain said that the people of his great state of Arizona didn't want this health care bill (signed into law, today, March 23). Really? Senator, I don't believe we've met. I live in your "great state," and I DO want the bill. Further more, regardless if you are a Republican Senator, and regardless if Arizona is basically a RED state, you also represent its BLUE and PURPLE constituents. DID YOU KNOW THAT?!?

Then - and here's the part that really got my goat (where in the world does that expression come from anyway? Is the etymology of that saying old shepard-ese? Back in the day when farmers bartered their animals rather than sold them at auction? But I digress...):
McCain said because the Dems passed this bill, he (and the Republicans) aren't going to budge an inch on anything else this year (especially because they gave yards in this past one, right?).

Well, Senator - good for you! You show those Blue Meanies! You show 'em ...just how great it is that you can act like a five year-old who just got his pail and shovel ripped out of his hands in the sand box. You show 'em how much you really care about America and its people, because - God knows - "showing them" and being "RIGHT" (pun most definitely intended) is way more important than having a thoughtful dialogue and working together to do what's best for as many people as possible.

Oh, and by the way: you're setting a really great example for our children.

I think that's what really got me.

I spend a lot of time talking with my students about the importance of dialogue - of being open-minded to different ideas, opinions, and beliefs. I am constantly encouraging my students to hear all sides of an issue, and once they have enough information (from all sides), make their own opinions, their own choices. And then, I ask them to still remain respectful of other people's decisions, of their choices.

Am I happy the Health Care Bill passed? You betcha! Can I understand some people not being happy with it? Most certainly. Do I believe that there is room for future dialogue on this issue? Absolutely. However, I don't believe there is room for hate. I don't believe there is room to say things that cut off thoughtful discussion. And I most certainly believe that it's important that we realize that we all have to share the sandbox. Oh - and that the big kids have a responsibility to show the little kids how to play fair.

Greetings and Salutations!

2010-03-22T19:47:00.000-07:00

I love the first day back after a school break. It's not that I necessarily want to be back (in fact, another week off would have been great), but I truly love my students this year, and our first day back (even after a long weekend) always feels like...coming home!

This morning three of my homeroom students came to see me at the faculty house, full of hugs and excitement just to be back together and to see me. That is one gosh darn good feeling, I must say. They make me smile and laugh, right off the bat, and remind me why I love my job and how blessed I am to have a job to come back to.

Thankfully, I had done a great deal of planning over the weekend, and was so well-prepared that despite my exhaustion today (and I was exhausted: stayed up far too late, and overslept this morning), things moved along pretty swimmingly.

The weather is perfect right now (though the weather report calls for showers tomorrow), and I feel like we have to take advantage of every minute of it when we can (because - God knows - it's going to be too bloody hot soon to be outdoors). So I planned my whole Language Arts class to be done outside: small groups sitting on plastic table cloths (the students used clipboards as their writing "tables").

I was spent by the end of the day and completely married my couch when I got home, far longer than I planned. Have much to prep for two plays both my drama classes are doing, so I am putting the thesis aside for this evening.

Not much of a thesis post tonight, but I'm happy to get a post in and express some gratitude for the job that has given me so much for my thesis.

Appreciation for the Mundane: Enjoying the Ordinary in an Extraordinary Way

2010-03-21T13:19:00.000-07:00

I am extraordinary, if you'd ever get to know me
I am extraordinary, I am just your ordinary
Average every day sane psycho
Supergoddess
Average every day sane psycho .
- Liz Phair

This morning as I took some laundry out of the dryer and put another load in, I realized how much I actually enjoy doing laundry.

I like the ordinariness of the task.
I appreciate the time and care of simply folding items - wrapping a pair of socks together, folding a pair of jeans once, then twice, preparing them to be hung on a hanger in my closet when I finish folding the rest of the items.
I have come to relish doing this household chore, as well as many others, simply because it is simple. It is repetitiously simple. And in so doing, I feel sense of accomplishment and a feeling that I am taking care - of my environment, my belongings, and myself.

Don't get me wrong - I have always liked a clean house, clean clothes, and, of course, a clean body. However, I would happily put chores (though not showers) aside to do something more fun or more interesting.

Then. "B.T." (Before Thesis).

Now, "D.T." (During Thesis), I have come to appreciate the simplicity of attending to ordinary chores. They have become a pleasure. Even an outlet. They are measurably do-able. They don't require "thought," but I enjoy being mindful of how I am doing them: the folding of the clothing, the warmth of the water as I am washing the dishes, the back and forth motion of the vacuum.

I remember last year when we were studying the paramitas in the "Compassionate Teaching" teaching class, Richard Brown, instructor. Every time we were focusing on a particular paramita, i.e. patience, I found myself going to the extreme of non-patience (completely irritated and annoyed). When we practiced generosity my mind and heart would turn to gluttonous, miserly thoughts and feelings. It felt awful in the midst of it, but it always brought me back to balance and, seemingly, to the essence of each paramita.

Working on my thesis, I often feel the sense of urgency. I must do, I must do, I must do. My head spins in hundreds of different directions, filled with millions of mega-bytes of information, thoughts, and ideas. Even when I finish one thing, it feels like I have not accomplished what I should have accomplished. I carry a sense of the incomplete, the unfinished.

Now, please don't get me wrong: I truly get that this thesis is a process. And, I actually, really like the process. But there is the neurosis that comes with it. And I need that extreme, in my process, in order to do my thesis.

But like while practicing the paramitas, I need the flip-side of my thesis: the mundane. The ordinary. That has become so extraordinary. The laundry, the dishes, the vacuuming, the dusting. The balance.

What I hope to keep, upon completing my thesis, is the glorious thrill of the simple. The ordinary. And how extraordinary it truly is.

Re-Reading: It's Good to Go Back

2010-03-20T18:54:00.000-07:00

Last week I cut and pasted this blog into a Word Document and printed it out. I put the hard copy in a notebook. Today I printed out the five posts since. This evening I started re-reading my posts from the beginning.

Maybe it's because I post daily - because I post what's immediate and right there - I don't remember what I wrote. Once I put it out there, the experience(s) that seemed so important, all those thoughts, or the ideas I had that seemed so "aha!" just seem to dissapate once they are communicated by my fingers on a keyboard into cyberspace.

Upon re-visiting the past experiences, thoughts, and ideas I wrote about, I am struck by the immediacy of many of them. I am struck by the joy, the pain, the exhaustion, the wonder. I am grateful I chose to use blogging as one of my inner methods on this thesis journey. I never would have remembered all of the things I had written, nor had some really rich material to pluck from when the time was right. I also don't think I would have had the energy to go back through and re-type what I had hand-written in my private journal. The beauty of technology: cut and paste.

I have been writing for days now. Feeling like I'm getting nowhere fast, and somewhere slowly. But I am moving. I am writing. I am write where I am supposed to be. And so, off I go, to write on!

"Time, Time..."

2010-03-19T11:32:00.000-07:00

...Time, see what's become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities...
Hang onto your hopes, my friend...

That's an easy thing to say, but if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend
You can build them again

Look around
The grass is high
The fields are ripe
It's the springtime of my life.

- Paul Simon

I feel anxious today. I am on overwhelm. I feel like I have little time.
I have thesis writing, grades to enter, and much work to prep for school next week.
I journaled about all of that this morning before I sat down to meditate.
Of course, when I do the next right thing, the Universe provides.

I sat down on my cushion, lit my incense and candles, and opened to the next bookmarked page in Pema Chodron's book, Comfortable with Uncertainty. Teaching 55: "Start Where You Are (Again and Again)."
Start where you are. This is very important. Tonglen practice (and all meditation practice) is not about later, when you get it all together and you're this person you really respect. You may be the most violent person in the world - that's a fine place to start. That's a very rich place to start - juicy, smelly. You might be the most depressed person in the world, the most addicted person in the world, the most jealous person in the world. You might think that there are no others on the planet who hate themselves as much as you do. All of that is a good place to start. Just where you are - that's the place to start.
What you do for yourself, any gesture of kindness, any gesture of gentleness, any gesture og honesty and clear seeing toward yourself, will affect how you experience your world. What you do for yourself, you're doing for others, and what you do for others, you're doing for yourself. When you exchange yourself for others in the practice of tonglen, it becomes increasingly uncertain what is out there and what is in here (Chodron, 2002, p. 110-111).

Shamatha meditation and lovingkindness practice are gestures of kindness - for myself, and therefore, for others. So I did them both.

Following meditation, I sat down and did an enso practice. Choosing yellow paint, I drew my circle. I used yellow to symbolize Ratna - Earth energy, in the Buddha family. Ratna is grounding. Ratna provides: it is abundant and generous when it is filled with "sane possibilities" (Irini Rockwell). Today is a day when I could use some solid Ratna in my life.

Today, I will trust that I have everything I need to do what I need to do. I will trust the earth beneath my feet and continue to move purposefully forward, doing the next right thing.

Did I Really Need to Write All That?

2010-03-18T19:41:00.000-07:00

I spent I don't know how long writing the following. Perhaps it's in reaction to the media blitz this week on the new government "reforms," which I unlovingly refer to as band-aids - or another way to explain why my thesis is important. However, I'd already written something along these lines, and far-less preachy, awhile back, so I think I'll nix this out of my paper. However, since I have been writing all day long, I figured I'd post it here, and use it - or parts of it - later on, should the need arise.

A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
- Margaret Mead

Though “raising standards,” “rewarding excellence and growth,” and “closing achievement gaps” are on the American government’s current education agenda, there is little discussion about how these check list items will truly benefit our children, their teachers, and the world in which they live. Mainstream, public education has ceased to do its job. Budget cuts, coupled with the “No Child Left Behind” Act and the mindset of “teach to the test,” have failed miserably, allowing students to fall through the cracks and teachers to simply crack up.

While math and science seem to be the main thrust of academic focus these days, language arts and history are given a little more than a nod, while the arts and physical education are being cut right and left. Students’ minds are cut off from their bodies and hearts. Critical thinking, depth of inquiry, and a sense of wonder have been strewn by the wayside, in lieu of rote learning, soon to be forgotten once spewed out on a standardized test form.

“Character building” has become a catch phrase, which seems to simply imply, “don’t be a bully,” but still be the biggest, fastest, and strongest kid on the block. “Think for yourself,” has seemed to take on a more “think of yourself” quality – more me and less them, and doing your “personal best” has given way to a “better than” mentality that leads to unfriendly individualized competition, rather than community support.

While alternative education, such as holistic, integrated, and contemplative philosophies and practices are on the rise, the American government and the public at large, have not caught on to, nor have yet embraced these approaches. Fortunately, some teachers do have autonomy and are able to implement different ways of teaching and learning. Even some teachers who are mandated to teach in a cookie-cutter format are able to bring some more out-of-the-box ideas into their classrooms.

There is no one “right way” to learn. There are no perfect pathways to creating cohesion and community. There are no sure-fire tools that work for each and every person that help them gain a full understanding of self, others, the environment, and the greater world. There is no empathy button that one can push to make one more caring and compassionate. And there is certainly no “one kind of teacher,” nor is there just “one kind of student.” Each teacher must search her soul for what path works best for her; be willing to summon the courage to look within and without and know who she is and how she can be of utmost service to herself, others, and the world; and create the best teaching and learning environment that she can.

To Life!

2010-03-17T20:48:00.000-07:00

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
- Emily Dickinson

I just received a new book from Amazon in the mail yesterday (I know, I know - I need another book like I need a hole in my head): Educating for Wisdom and Compassion: Creating Conditions for Timeless Learning by John (Jack) Miller. I am totally thrilled about it for several reasons. First, because it is so spot on. Second, because it is hands-on useful. Third, because it has some of the most beautifully perfect information to help back up my thesis!

Thank you, thank you, to my dear friend, Debbie, for turning me onto it!!!

Here's a quip:

When it comes to defining time, only the oceanic need apply - the Montaignes or Joyces, Shakespeares or Rousseaus, eastern philosophers or children. They know their now, they know the really wild vibe of the present is this: now is the only time when the moment can meet the eternal - and they know that moment is momentous (Griffiths, 1999, p. 36) (Miller, 2006, p. 4).

The "momentous" can simply be an ordinary moment made extraordinary by perspective, by just being truly present in that moment.

At the beginning of the school year, I give all of my students a brown paper "Welcome Bag" filled with all kinds of things, i.e. candy, play-doh, etc. that serve as symbols - reminders - as to what I'd like them to keep in mind throughout the school year. With the bag, I give them a "key" that explains what each item represents. One of the items in the bag is a highlighter marker. This is to remind my students to see the extraordinary in the ordinary - to note the highlights, regardless if they are big or small, wild and wonderful or plain and simple.

A classroom adage I use with my students is "Look down at your feet." Whenever a student starts asking about something that we might be doing, or might take place in the future (even if the future is that afternoon), and it has nothing to do with what we are doing or what we are talking about, I ask him/her to look down at his/her feet. This is a reminder to "be here now," to stay present for this moment.

Miller says, "In the timeless learning our experience becomes much more immediate. We are not thinking of the past or the future" (Miller, 2006, p. 4).

So when Dickinson wrote "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else," I believe she meant that if we are truly awake to the moment, all we can do is be in that moment - live that moment, and that moment only. There's no room - no time - for the moment before or for the next moment, because the present moment takes all of our time, all of our attention.

And how do we get that? How do we live? From moment to moment. From practice to practice. By using ritual as a pathway.

When Does Ritual Cease Being Ritual? And Other Thoughts for Today...

2010-03-16T10:19:00.000-07:00

When does ritual cease being ritual?

Thought #1:
When it merely becomes routine or - worse - rut.
If the meaning and purpose dwindle, ritual is no longer ritual.
Just like romance, how does one keep the flame burning when it comes to ritual?

Or, Thought #2:

If greater good comes from simply participating in ritual, then is the ritual simply routine (or rut) or is it a service (which indeed has purpose and meaning)?

Mother Teresa lost her faith for fifty years and still kept "acting as if," and her life, and the lives she affected, was full of purpose, care, and meaning - in the name of faith, in the name of service.

This question just popped up for me this morning. I would like to explore it further, but I am going to let it sit for awhile and brew.

Another thought that popped into my head was Tevye's line from Fiddler on the Roof (music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick, book by Joseph Stein), where he says after the opening song. Tradition, "Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as - as a fiddler on the roof!" I was thinking the same could be said for personal and community rituals.

"On the other hand," (as Tevye would say) are rituals really necessary for stability and groundedness ("centering" and balance)? What about the people who don't practice rituals? Are their lives out of whack? Disconnected? Lacking community and compassion?

On the other hand, rituals can help, and do create a sense of connection. They can and do foster compassion. They can and do bond community unity.

More for me to ponder.

This morning, I printed out all of the blog posts I had written thus far. There's a lot of good "stuff," and then, of course there's a lot of not-so-great "stuff." However, as a ritual - one I have attended to almost daily since January 9 - it has been immensely purposeful, meaningful, and practical for my inner work and helping me get clarity in working on my thesis.

I remember hearing Frank M. say at an AA meeting once, "Faith is practical." I think that's true. And I would also say, structure is practical. The structure of this blog has kept me accountable (and, to be sure, so has my ego: "What will they think i f I miss a post?"...My ego being "my readers," the other ego being that I think I have readers who are reading this daily). Accountable, to myself and to my thesis work.

Blogging has also kept me connected: connected to my thesis (especially on days and even weeks when I haven't been able to read, write, or organize much), connected to my thoughts, ideas, and feelings, and connected to community of people who actually do read this thing. Mary Pipher says in her book, Writing to Change the World, "[Blogs] are tangible manifestations of the central fact of the universe: Everything is connected" (p. 221).

Blogging has reminded me to be compassionate, particularly towards myself: when I am tired or under the weather, when I've had a day where I've "tripped up," writing about it allows me to see these things for what they are, and let them go. If I write that I'm tired, bordering on exhausted - I put it down on virtual paper and go get rest. If I'm out of ideas, I write that I'm tapped, or turn my post over to something else (i.e. my min-tribute to George Harrison).

I also have a classroom blog that I use as a communication tool between my parents and students. This blog definitely serves my classroom community and keeps us connected. Daily, I post homwework; Weekly, I post a narrative of what's been going on in our classroom; Whenever I can, I post photos of my students and some of their work (poems, journal entries, art pieces); Whenever necessary, I post announcements. It is through the blog that my parents can always check in to see what is going on in Room 503 (my classroom), my students log on to enjoy photos and check any assignments they may have forgotten to write down, and it is a forum for me to articulate what we have been doing, reflect on what has been going on during the week, and communicate daily with my students' parents. "With blogs, we can build I-thou relationships...Over time, blogs will continue to connect us, teach us empathy, and perhaps even save us from ourselves" (Pipher, 2006, p. 221).

Th-th-that's all for now, folks!

Mission: Hurry Up and Get There!

2010-03-15T10:17:00.000-07:00

That is the title of my Awareness Walk this morning with Love.

What's with the pull? What's up with the forward-focused-can't-stop-for-nothing-no-way-no-how-no-one's-gonna-stop-me-from-getting-where-I'm-going pace, leash, seemingly, at breaking point? And, then, what's up with the I-wasn't-really-going-anywhere-in-particular slow down, allowing the leash to simply swish and sway instead of being pulled taut and tight?

Could this be what I look like, how I think, how I behave? I'm in such a hurry: always trying to get something done. I'm on a mission, a quest. It all seems so important for some reason, and then, some time goes by, and it just really isn't so important any more. It loosens, dissolves, peters out.

What was really nice for me today, was that I didn't have to hurry up and get anywhere. It's my first morning of spring break. I got to walk my dog at 9:00 AM instead of 6:00 AM. The weather is amazingly perfect: warm, with a slight breeze, blue skies, and sunshine. I get to come home and write down my observations and thoughts without trying to remember them and write about them later.

This morning I was able to sit quietly in bed, with my cup of coffee, writing out my Morning Pages. I get to meditate at 10:45 in the morning instead of fitting it in between a walk and a shower and the scramble to get out of the house on time for work. I have the opportunity to sit back and be grateful for time: time to be, to do, to enjoy.

I don't have to hurry today. I'm already there.

What's in a Name?

2010-03-14T13:46:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the title of my thesis. I have tried very hard to be open-minded about my thesis topic and its title, ever since I started tossing the idea around in my head last spring. Part of me has felt resistant to changing it, but for what reasons(s) I am not sure. It's a great topic, to be sure. It's a vast topic, of that I am even more sure.

The other day, this thought came to me as a thesis title: Ritual: a Path to Cultivating Community, Connection, and Compassion (in and out of the classroom). I am drawn to the word "cultivating." I am attracted to the verb, to the consciousness of the doing. Ritual has to do with meaning. It has substance and purpose. It is alive.

Here is how freedictionary.com defines "cultivate":
tr.v. cul·ti·vat·ed, cul·ti·vat·ing, cul·ti·vates
1.
a. To improve and prepare (land), as by plowing or fertilizing, for raising crops; till.
b. To loosen or dig soil around (growing plants).
2. To grow or tend (a plant or crop).
3. To promote the growth of (a biological culture).
4. To nurture; foster.
5. To form and refine, as by education.
6. To seek the acquaintance or goodwill of; make friends with.

The rituals I have incorporated into my personal life, as well as my classroom practices, do "nurture and foster." They do "form and refine." They do help "to seek the aquaintance or goodwill of; [and] "make friends with." Like the definitions that apply to the land and plants - ritual does help to "improve and prepare," "to loosen and to dig," "to grow or tend," and rituals do "promote growth."

The "deeper learning" that I have been referring to in my working title - and exploring in my work - actually seems to fall under the heading of "connection." When one learns deeply, one can connect to material/subject matter, to other, to self, to community, and/or to the greater world.

The cultivation of community (also a form of connection) and compassion (another form of connection, really) has been an integral part of my use of, and exploration of, ritual.

In William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, Juliet wonders:

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
(Act II, sc. ii)

There isn't much in a name, really: we call a table "table," but we could just as well call it "goomba," or give it any other name and it would still remain the same object and serve the same function(s).

Romeo and Juliet could have been called "Earl and Henrietta," and it wouldn't change the story. But, seriously: what sounds better? "Earl and Henrietta" - romantic? Hmmm....me no think so. Therefore, a name is important to some extent. And so is the title of my thesis - if for no other reason to help me and whomever reads it, to be more clear about my exploration of ritual.

I have just given myself some more "food for thought" - especially with the definitions I found for "cultivate." More work for me? No doubt. Exciting none-the-less? You bet.

I Need Some Repose, I Suppose

2010-03-10T17:56:00.001-08:00

Rest when you're weary. Refresh and renew yourself, your body, your mind, your spirit. Then get back to work. ~ Ralph Marston

Funny (ironic, not "ha, ha") that "repose" is one of my students' vocabulary words this month. Mine as well, then, to be sure. So while my students will use it in a sentence on their test tomorrow, I am using it in my blog-post title this evening.

I am completely over-the-top tired. Under-my-desk tired. And, really, just plain, old I-gotta-go-lay-on-my-couch-but-really-should-just-go-to-bed tired!

I think I'm just going to take my cue to chill and stop for today from some that are probably much wiser than me:

Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop. ~ Ovid

The time to relax is when you don't have time for it.
~ Attributed to both Jim Goodwin and Sydney J. Harris

For fast-acting relief, try slowing down. ~ Lily Tomlin

And, so: good night.

Reflecting Back (and Forward) on Ritual and Routine

2010-03-09T19:43:00.000-08:00

Back in January (oh - it does feel like way back, and yet it's been less than two months), I posted about ritual and routine and the differences between the two. In the questionnaire I gave three "non-contemplative" (though, I have a sneaking suspicion they are contemplatives of sorts) teachers at my school, I asked them what they thought the differences were between routine and ritual as well.

Here are their answers:

Teacher A*: A routine is something you do on a regular basis, similar to a habit. A routine provides consistency and discipline. Rituals take what on the outside looks like a routine, but to the individual ties them to a greater purpose or time.

Teacher B: "Routine" is a word or idea without value judgement. It is simply a series of motions that have become, or will become habit. A routine is neither "good" nor "bad." A ritual is a specific thought or action which should serve a purpose. Ritual is more formalized and is usually not just an "accident."

Teacher E: Routine has to do with that which is customary or commonly practiced. A ritual, which one might perceive as a "good" thing can become routine, which probably means it has lost its depth of meaning or transcendance for the practitoner.

"Purpose" and "meaning."

In his book, 36 Tools for Building Spirit in Learning Communities, author R. Bruce Williams says that rituals "point to something meaningful and significant"(p. 122). This is a part of my understanding (and practice) of ritual, and it is clear that this is also true for some of my colleagues.

Of great interest to me was reading about each of my three colleagues' personal morning practices to ready themselves for the school day ahead:

Teacher A: Paryer is part of my morning routine. It involves reading scriptures from the bible. It is my time to center myself and bring peace before beginning a day of taeching.

My routines involve sending all emails personal and school-related prior to leaving home for the day; Preparing my planner for the week/day with any tasks or schedules, personal or professionally-related.

Then I prepare my class schedules for the day or week. I listen to classical or spiritual music while doing all this - and especially while grading student papers.

Teacher B: Each morning I intentionally spend time alone. I have a specific chair in which I sit with my planner, a book, and my journal. I begin with prayer in three categories: "pray for," "thank for," and "forgiveness for." I write those down and give them to God. Then I read Scripture. From there, I plan my day and reflect on putting people before things. Then I read an inspirational work, currently Steven Covey, and then I get ready. Sometimes I review or work on my Personal Mission.

Teacher E: My first thoughts in the morning usually are prayer. Later, I often use a variation on a Quaker prayer that I heard about at a Promise Keeper's conference: palms up (acknowledging God's presence, his provision, love, and guidance); palms down ("please take from me everything that displeases you"); and palms up ("fill me with your Holy Spirit, your love, your truth, and your grace").

While not a ritual, I derive great pleasure from studying the Bible. My current studies are taking me through the sermons of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew.

I would liken my morning rituals and how they help me connect with the present, myself, and a Higher Power - how they set the tone for my day - to what my colleagues do in the morning to ready themselves for the day ahead.

Reading about my colleagues' practices has been insightful, not just in terms of gathering data, but also in terms of getting to know a few of my co-workers a bit better. I was talking to Teacher A after school for awhile today about some of the questions I asked, and she said she would actually really like to know how she could incorporate some ritual into her classes, but wasn't sure how that would bode well with math. I told her I was excited to have the opportunity to speak with her further about that (it's been difficult for everyone to find a date to meet, so she and I will probably meet sometime next week over spring break). What I am mostly excited about is connecting with my colleagues on a deeper level.

Though we may not engage in any rituals together, the topic of ritual, itself, has helped foster a connection between myself and a few of my colleagues. Not so routine, eh?!

*The teachers are labeled Teacher A, B, and E because each letter represents the initial of their first names.

"See Much, Study Much, Suffer Much"

2010-03-08T19:54:00.000-08:00

The unexamined life is not worth living ~ Socrates

Reflection has been a key component for me as far understanding myself and the part I play in the world. Whether I reflect in dialogue, in silent contemplation, or through writing, I have been able to get to know myself better and gain a clearer perspective of who I am, what I think, and how I feel.

My students also seem to be learning about themselves through reflection. Literature has often been a catalyst for my students (and myself), and books, plays, song lyrics, spiritual works, and poetry have all incited thoughtful discussions and insightful writings.

Last week, my students were asked to find two different quotes in Lloyd Alexander's The Book of Three, connect them to a greater "life lesson" of some kind, and write about their own thoughts, feelings and experiences in regards to it.

From one of my students:

On page 155, Taran says, "Medwyn would not say so. In the hills, he spoke of kindness for all creatures; and he told me much about the gwythaints. I think that it's important to bring this one to Caer Dathyl. No one has ever captured a live gwythaint, as far as I know. Who can tell what value it might have?" I think that the life lesson here is that we should show kindness for all humans...We cannot tell what a person is really like just by theirappearance. An example of this is Muslims.

I know quite a lot on the subject of Islam and Muslims since more than half of Indonesia's religion is Islam [this student is Indonesian]. When some people see a Muslim or think of one, they think, "Oh, no! I hope they aren't a terrorist, I hope they won't hurt me!" Well, I think that this is just silly. It is judging someone by their appearance without even meeting them. And for all those people who think that all Muslims are terrorists, I CAN CERTAINLY TELL YOU THEY ARE NOT. In fact, most Muslims are very kind and friendly, I even have some friends in Indonesia that are Muslims and I am sure that they are not terrorists.

So we should all show friendliness and kindness for all humans, of any religion, ethnicity, etc., and not judge what they are like just by their appearance or looking at them right away.

From another student:

"She looks like a wonderful pig" - "It's always nice to see two friends meet again. It's like waking up with the sun shining" (Eilonwy, p. 47).

I think that the life lesson that is trying to be shown in Eilonwy's reference is that when you have something that you are ungrateful for, you only realize how much you appreciate it when it's gone. In reading The Book of Three, I learned more about being grateful and thinking about every little thing that affects your life. This could be friends, pets, or homes. I hope that we can all really take notice of the little things in life, because they all add up in the end to something further than we can understand.

In The Book of Three, Coll says to Taran: "You have been at The Book of Three...that is not hard to guess. Now you know better. Well, that is one of the three foundations of learning: see much, study much, suffer much" (Alexander, p. 10). This quote reminds me of the process of prajna: observation, contemplation, and meditation...or observation + knowledge + experience = wisdom.

In her article, The Sharp Sword of Prajna, Judy Lief explains: Prajna is a Sanskrit word literally meaning "best knowledge," or "best knowing." Prajna is a natural bubbling up of curiosity, doubt and inquisitiveness. It is precise, but at the same time it is playful. The awakening of prajna applies to all aspects of life, down to the tiniest details. Our inquisitive interest encompasses all levels, from the most mundane, such as how do I turn on this computer, up to such profound levels as, what is the nature of reality?

It seems to me that my students are applying their "best knowing" to "all aspects of life," as they delve into The Book of Three and make connections between the story and the language, and themselves and how they view the world.

Lief says:

Another image for prajna is the sun: the sun of prajna is illuminating our world. If we're inquisitive, if we're attentive, a kind of natural illumination happens. There is light shining on the dark corners and a sense of being under the spotlight, totally exposed...there's no corner where the sun of prajna isn't shining. Prajna is like having a sun shining all around, everywhere, never setting.

Reflection has become a ritual in my personal life, as well as my classroom. It takes on different forms all the time, so there is no one way to practice it. It is a ritual on one hand, because it is a constant practice and a conscious practice. It is also a ritual because it's very nature begs the practitioner to look more closely, dig a bit deeper, and learn more about him or herself, others and the greater world. It cultivates deeper learning and serves as a platform for making connections.

In her article, Lief writes: "Usually we think that knowledge means having all the answers, but the quality of prajna is more like having all the questions." So, too, is the way of reflection.

"Wrong-footed, you know, or as if I had three thumbs on one hand..."

2010-03-07T16:22:00.000-08:00

That's about how I feel when I don't do my sitting practice in the morning.

On Friday morning, I woke up late. I had neglected to set up my coffee maker (on a timer) the night before, so I rushed through the process of setting that up, and just as quickly rushed around trying to dress, do my hair and make up, and get my things together for the school day.

With "no time" for meditation, I darted back into the kitchen to grab a cup of joe, and wouldn't you know it - I had forgotten to empty the carafe out from the day before and there was coffee all over my counter! The time it would have taken me to just sit, even for five minutes, would have been worth nixing the coffee. Had I done so, I would have had a bit more peace of mind, and would not have had to clean up a mess that was all due to the fact that my mindfulness had gone out the window, or out the door, and probably somewhere far down the street!

I had to simply laugh at myself. "Really, Nicky? How many times will it take for you to get that starting your day off with meditation - even a shortened practice - renders better results than no practice at all." Hmmm...

In my Language Arts class we are just finishing up Lloyd Alexander's The Book of Three. It's a wonderful book, filled with rich, juicy characters. Eilonwy (pronounced: ih-lawn-wee), a princess, is one of my favorites. She always says what she thinks and how she feels. She most often uses analogies and similes, and though they are often a bit off-the-wall, they tickle me because they are also so right on.

When she first meets Taran, the story's protagonist, Eilonwy asks him his name and then explains, "It makes me feel funny not knowing someone's name. Wrong-footed, you know, or as if I had three thumbs on one hand, if you see what I mean. It's clumsy..." (p. 51). That's preciscely how I feel when I don't attend to my morning meditation. It's a terrific description.

On the other hand, when I attend to my sitting practice on a consistent, daily basis, it does feel like Eilonwy describes in the last chapter of The Book of Three: "You should be glad to be home...It's like remembering where you put something you've been looking for" (p. 184). It feels right. Just like coming home.

How Does One Measure This Stuff?

2010-03-06T16:48:00.000-08:00

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights - in sunsets
In midnights - in cups of coffee
In inches - in miles
In laughter - in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in a life?

How about love?
Measure in love.

~ RENT, Seasons of Love, by Jonathan Larson

I remember when I began working on my thesis, I wondered about how I could "measure" my data. How would I even collect it? I can observe - use my own observations to see and feel how ritual impacts deeper learning and connection. But observation is quite a subjective way of showing data. It's part of the data, but it cannot account for all of it.

Feedback, in the form of discussion, verbal and written interviews, and written reflection (from journal writing and written responses to specific questions) is probably the best form of data. However, unsolicited feedback is the real McCoy.

After a difficult, yet thoughtful and caring discussion in my classroom yesterday, I received an email from a parent today. Her student joined our classroom within just the last month, and I am appreciative that she took the time to share her thoughts. The following is an excerpt from her email:

I hope you're enjoying your weekend. Just wanted to tell you how much [Student J] is enjoying the discussions in class. I picked him up yesterday after school and went to the zoo with his brothers for a couple hours, trying to take in as much of this gorgeous weather as possible. When I asked him about school he told me how great it was to be able to talk about all kinds of things...and everyone's point of view seems to be well listened to and respected, no matter how different they are. I think this is so neat and unusual for a group this age to be able to come together and discuss their differences, but do it in a way where they can come away feeling like they've been heard, maybe challenged, but respected. Thanks for engendering that kind of openness in your classroom. He also shared with me about [Student J2] and the letters and the discussion that ensued and how one girl brought up that this class is a family and needs to function that way....I just think it was all so neat, for lack of a better term! It's great when you ask the question, "anything interesting happen in school today?" and you get such a long and drawn out answer. [Student J] really loves it!

As I posted yesterday, my students are constantly demonstrating compassion. They are reflective and articulate, and, as yesterday's conversation continued, it was really wonderful to step back and watch and listen as many of my students were able to see things from different perspectives and open their hearts even wider as they continued to dialogue.

The "compassion gymnasium" renders results: tipping the scales with deeper learning and connection.

Semi-Random Thoughts on Reflection, Repetition and Compassion

2010-03-05T20:25:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking about how ritual plays a part in reflection, repetition, and compassion and vice-versa. All three components are important parts of my own world, and they play out in my classroom frequently.

I finally wrote up my notes from the Mind Life XIX Conference I attended last November in Washington, D.C., along with several other Naropites. The Conference entitled, Educating World Citizens for the 21st Century: Educators, Scientists, and Contemplatives Dialogue on Cultivating a Healthy Mind, Brain, and Heart. The Conference was composed of four sessions, and HH the Dalai Lama sat in on each one.

I can't remember who said it during the first session of the Conference, but I wrote in my notes:

Compassion = Empathy + Reason

Then I wrote:

In order to increase the growth of national happiness, we need a "compassion gymnasium." It takes mental training and control of the mind to cultivate compassion and loving-kindness. i.e. training for a marathon: you cannot run 26.2 miles if you are not in shape.

In cultures where compassion is built in, they just "get it." But when it's not built in, children need to be taught.

We are just coming up to the end of our third quarter at school next week. I have been marveling at the growth of my students. They are thoughtful, creative and caring souls. They thrive on repetition and the structure it offers. Most of them are capable of reflecting deeply and critically. They demonstrate compassion in ways I would never have expected, and I am awed that they are able to rise to all of it in their sixth grade year. Today, after school, I simply sat at my desk and wept. The tears were of joy, tinged by the suffering that each of my students so bravely - so maturely - dealt with today, and so often demonstrate in their discussions, written work, and actions.

In Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior, Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche explains:

The genuine heart of sadness comes from feeling that your nonexistent heart is full. You would like to spill your heart's blood, give your heart to others. For the warrior, this experience of sad and tender heart is what gives birth to fearlessness. Conventionally, being fearless means that you are not afraid or that, if someone wants to hit you, you will hit him back. However, we are not talking about that street-fighter level of fearlessness. Real fearlessness is the product of tenderness. It comes from letting the world tickle your heart, your raw and beautiful heart. You are willing to open up, without resistance or shyness, and face the world. You are willing to share your heart with others (Trungpa, 1984, p. 32).

My students are warriors.

During the fall semester, I gave my students a piece written by Mother Teresa (we affectionately refer to the piece as "Mother T"). There are nine phrases that make up the piece, and we learned it phrase by phrase - one new one each week. We started with the first phrase and recited each day for a week. Then then students would write a reflection on the phrase - what it meant to them, personally, how they had experienced it in their lives, and often they reflected on how this phrase fell into the world picture. The following week, wee would recite the first two phrases every day, reflect again on the second one, and so on. Here is a copy of the piece:

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.

~ Mother Teresa

*The students were told that if they weren't comfortable with the word "God," they could substitute it for another word, i.e. "good" or "Universe" or not say anything at all.

My students know the entire Mother T piece by heart. Two weeks ago we began re-visiting the piece. I posted "Phrase One" up on the white board for the week. I asked the students to reflect in their journals on the first phrase and how they have incorporated it into their life since we began working on the piece in the fall. This second week, we did the same. Next week, we will do the same again, and so on until the piece runs it's course.

The repetition of reading and verbally saying the piece out loud (and in unison) has helped the students (and myself) learn the piece, so that now, at this point, it seems to be a "part of us." The written reflections (and subsequent discussions), have helped us all think about our thoughts and our actions - has given us pause about how we look at others, ourselves, and how we can make choices about our attitudes and actions.

Saying the Mother T piece out loud, as a group, seems to be a uniting force. The students say it together, and if one falters, the others help get him/her back on track. The voices, in unison, reverberate the message of the piece. To hear twenty-two sixth graders recite this, just about breaks my heart into twenty-two pieces of love (regardless of how sappy that sounds, if you heard them, I have no doubt that you might experience the same).

The practice of speaking the piece daily last fall was more than a practice: it was a ritual. The meaning behind it were the words themselves and what the students got from them. The creation of a unified body of students who were (and still are) creating a cohesive community was enhanced by the words, sounds and reverberations of saying the piece out loud and together. The connections that students have made between themselves and the piece and themselves and the world are clear, as seen in their written reflections, discussions, and actions. Re-visiting the piece now, fortifies those connections.

In the third session of the Mind Life Conference, Matthieu Ricard explained that "Compassion must be cultivated through practice." and Martin Brokenleg offered the literal translation of "child," in his native language (forgive me, I cannot remember what tribe he is from):

"Child" means "One who stands sacred." Brokenleg went on to express what he believed a child's mental and emotional needs are:

- A sense of Belonging: with parents, society, and land
- A sense of Mastery: what a child is capable of doing
- Being responsible for self: good behavior, good thinking
- Generosity: being a part of the world, giving to the world

The Mother T piece and how we practice it in Room 503 (my classroom) seems to provide a platform where all four points above can be cultivated.

I have more thoughts on repetition, reflection, and compassion, and I will continue to write about them in the coming days.

Getting to Know Myself...Not so "Breezy"

2010-03-03T20:32:00.000-08:00

It's a very ancient saying,
But a true and honest thought,
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught...
Haven't you noticed
Suddenly I'm bright and breezy?
Because of all the beautiful and new
Things I'm learning about you
Day by day.

~ Anna, The King and I (lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein)

This morning I re-read last night's post, and I realized that like shamatha, my Awareness Walks with Love help me get more aquainted with myself...more aware of who I am and how I am, and some of it...I don't like so well. It's sort of hard to really look at.

I posted the lyrics above from "Getting to Know You," because when I think of Anna singing them, she seems like such a lovely, kind and patient teacher...everything so easy, despite the fact that she's wearing that dang huge skirt with petticoats in that swealtering heat and teaching students in a language other than her own, all while working under some chauvenistic king.

Like Anna, I learn as much (if not more) from my students as they learn from me. Unlike Anna, getting to know them is not always "breezy," and getting to know me is not always "beautiful." Or, maybe it is beautiful, but it's not always pretty and definitely not always comfortable.

Just as I interpret Love's behavior, I realized that that is what I do with my students - a few in particular. Because they behave a certain way, I decide it's because of this...or because of that...I make judgments. I get angry or irritated because they don't seem to change their behavior to meet my expectations. I often forget to let go of my expectations. My ego gets in the way. I struggle with the idea that I can help my students change (a.k.a. be the way I want them to be), and I struggle with the fact that they sometimes simply are who they are (ak.a. I can be of service in the best way possible, yet that doesn't mean I can always help them).

This morning I sat with these thoughts. They are not comfortable realizations. However, because I am aware of them, I have the opportunity to let them guide me to a better place, for my students - and my own - greater good.

This realization is a form of deeper learning...about myself. This realization helped me make a connection between my thoughts and my behavior. Therefore, I believe, my Awareness Walks with Love, like meditation, are leading me to greater awareness - in the present moment, as well as by helping me become better aquainted with myself...with my thoughts, emotions, and actions.

Noticing What I Notice

2010-03-02T18:18:00.001-08:00

This morning, while I was taking my Awareness Walk with Love, I kept noticing how I notice Love. Quite often I am able to watch her "in the moment" and simply notice what she's doing - simply observing the way she walks, what she stops to sniff, when and where she yanks her leash to get to where she wants to go when she wants to go there...yada, yada....

But this morning, I was distinctly (is that the right word: "distinctly?") aware of how I notice what she does (and when she does it) - and how I often interpret it. An example: At the end of the alleyway closest to McKellips (my street address), is the corner house (at the cross stree), with its backyard up against the alley. Love and the dog who lives in that yard cannot help but have a snarl fest - bordering on a ballistic barking bonanza - every single time we pass by. Every single time...unless I pull Love away from the alley wall as quickly as possible (and somehow, every morning, I forget the other dog is in that yard...or I think that she must be in the house at such an early hour - but, of course, the dog is always in the yard).

So when we pass by this wall to the other dog's backyard, Love just goes all out: she tries to get her snout in one of the fence slats, she barks and snarls and the hair on her back stands on end. I hold tight to her leash, trying with much might to pull her clear of the wall. I don't know what to make of this. Does she really revile this dog - a dog she has never seen? Is her "frenzy" a territorial thing (even though it's really not her territory)? Is the dog a Teabagger (Love's absolutely a liberal, I'm certain)? And this is how it goes every day.

As we wind up our walk, I am pretty sure that Love can sense our jaunt is coming to a close. The reason I believe this is because she will stop to sniff something and she will inspect it like a woman inspecting a pair of her husband's trousers - so sure she is that he has been unfaithful. Love will inspect every nook, every cranny of the trousers (or whatever it is - a bush, a patch of grass, a section of sidewalk) - not because she really wants to inhale its scent, but because she wants to prolong the walk. She knows I must wait - especially in the mornings. She knows it is my discipline - my ritual - to keep my focus on her, to use her as my awareness sherpa. And because she knows this, she dawdles and lags around any given thing, because she CAN! (That was the interpretation part).

It's interesting to me how I can create these ideas about why she does what she does. How quickly my head can whip up ideas that are probably non-existent (and especially, because I think they, so often, have to do with me). So I noticed that I notice things much of the time from my perspective - and a not very objective one at that.

However, I definitely also notice the beauty and the sweetness and the sense of being present and the constant sense of being alive and in tune the way Love is in the world, on her walks: her dainty little feet...the way they touch the ground in a poised trot of sorts; the way she investigates a flower or when her ears lift up and out just a bit whenever a specific sound catches her attention. She is always in the moment - always present for whatever presents itself. She is a gift. She is my teacher. She helps me be aware of what is all around me, and she helps me become aware of what is going on inside me as well.

Love helps me notice, what I notice.

Good Timing!

2010-03-01T20:44:00.001-08:00

A friend of mine receives these bits of wisdom from a source called The Daily Motivator from her brother, via email. She, in turn, passes them on to me and some of her other friends.

One (she usually sends me a few at a time) I received this evening was this:

Embrace discipline

Run away from discipline, and it punishes you. Embrace
discipline, and it enables you to do magnificent things.

You can decide to discipline yourself, or you will surely
and eventually have discipline forced upon you. It is far
better to choose it for yourself, so you can fashion with it
whatever you desire.

You already have the ability to act with self-discipline.
Make use of that ability by making it a constant habit.

Discipline doesn't cost you. It pays, over and over again.
Discipline makes what you already have, more valuable. And
with discipline you can create much more new value.

Do what is in the best interest of everyone involved, even
when it is not comfortable or easy at the moment. Long after
the immediate inconvenience and discomfort are gone, you'll
be enjoying the rewards of choosing to discipline yourself.

Ralph Marston

Amen.

The EYES of March

2010-03-01T16:18:00.000-08:00

This month, I am committing myself to seeing with a new pair of eyes. Especially looking at my thesis with beginner's eye, so that I can approach this phase of the process with clarity, excitement, and wonder. I can also approach it with a wee-bit of wisdom, taking what I know and what I have experienced and using that to guide and serve as well.

My eyes are tired and my mind is jumbled, and yet I know that with gentle discipline, willingness, and an open mind and heart (and a good sense of humor), the task before me is do-able and most definitely do-able well.

MARCHing on...

A Book on a Shelf is Like a Pearl in an Oyster...

2010-02-28T22:30:00.000-08:00

...it just needs someone to crack it open, or someone to take it off its shelf (or someone who points the way to the right book on the shelf...or a quote from a book that you've had on your shelf that you actually put in your bibliography already but didn't realize it had another woppin' big pearl of wisdom in it that you would definitely want)! - Whew!

(BIG BREATH)

What I really mean to say (in a much more straight-forward way) is: One of my classmates sent me a wonderful - a perfectly wonderful - quote that is in a book that I have had (and am already using something from in my thesis) and had no idea that that quote was there...hadn't even read the chapter from which the quote was taken, in years!

Here's the quote:

One of the things we know about rituals is that they carve a pathway into a particular state of mind and body. If they are meaningful to those who do them, ritual actions can create a sacred container, a space that is set apart from the everyday chores and logistical concerns that sometimes threaten to consume us.

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer, What We Ache For: Creativity and the Unfolding of Your Soul

I re-read the whole chapter from which that quote is extracted: Chapter Six, Developing a Creative Practice. It was exactly what I needed to read today! And the quote is absolutely perfect!

I have been doing a lot of thinking about how ritual is different from habit, from routine, and from practice. But that there are days/times when the actual "feeling" - the connection - is sometimes missing. Does the ritual then become simply a practice? I don't think so. It may not be embued with the emotion or the feeling or the spiritual connect that we would like it to be every time we engage in it, yet it is still a structure - a way of doing and being - that serves as an important part of the continuum, the discipline, and the overall connectedness of what the ritual means. "We can't make it happen," says Dreamer, "but we can increase the odds considerably by doing our part and showing up" (Dreamer, 2005, p. 99).

So thanks for connecting up with me, Monica. And thanks for connecting me to that quote, and helping me find my way back to What We Ache For. I believe I just caught me a little pearl of wisdom today. ; )

Survey says...

2010-02-27T14:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had my second lunch meeting with seven of last year's sixth grade students. I had given them a questionnaire to fill out prior to coming for lunch and today I read through them.

The lunch, itself, was just another means of thanking the students for helping me and to give us an opportunity to talk casually about our experiences last year. I think what I got out of it most, is that my students feel a bond having spent a year together (prior to the new seventh graders that have joined them this year), and have an assortment of collected memories that bring them joy.

The group I met with yesterday consisted of six boys and one girl (last year our classroom was made up of 15 boys and one girl). I attempted to probe a bit deeper on the questions I asked on paper, but it was the students' lunch time and it was obvious they needed a break. Allowing them to just toss memories back and forth seemed to be the right thing to do.

I began thinking that, perhaps, we needed a new ritual - an "reunion" of all of the sixth grade students from the inception of its first year at TPJA (Tempe Preparatory Junior Academy). It would be fun to exchange memories of that first year and chart their growth. Last year, at the end of the year, I had put together a photo albumn of our year together. It might be fun to add to that year, after year.

This year, all twenty of last year's sixth graders stayed. I heard one may be leaving this year because her family has moved to North Scottsdale and the commute is tough for her folks. It makes me wonder how many of this year's sixth grade students will remain at TPJA next year.

At any rate, I would have to say that the questionnaires I gave last year's sixth grade students were revealing only to the point that it was evident they didn't take a lot of time "digging deeper" - a phrase that we used again and again last year (I even have a shovel in my classroom that says as much). However, I did get some decent feedback on the rituals we incorporated into our classroom - enough to make me think that ritual can and does lead to deeper learning and connections.

I also feel like each time I gather a new piece of information, I am moving one step forward in my thesis project.

And, We'll Have Fun, Fun, Fun...

2010-02-25T17:21:00.000-08:00

...so said the Beach Boys way back when. And so says I when the going gets tough.

It was a long week this week. I don't know if I was simply extremely tired, or if having a regular five-day work week after coming off a four day work week just felt all the longer...Whatever the case, it's been difficult. I have felt as if I were wading through a swampy bog instead of tip-toe-ing through the tulips (or at least walking my typical walk on pavement).

Last night I simply felt as if today should call for some "lightness." So I planned a day that included all we needed to do - but with a wisp of whimsy and a looser grip than I had - obviously - been holding all week. And, you know what? I had a really good day. And I think my students did too.

Puppet-making in drama - our classroom was a-buzz with creativity, right off the bat. A tribute to George Harrison in Language Arts (gave the students copies of the Here Comes the Sun lyrics and played the song on my CD player), where the students wrote poems and creative stories prompted by either the line"Here comes the sun," or "Sun, sun, sun...here we come," stirred up even more creative juices.

I gave my students a choice in homeroom to listen to our current read-aloud book, The Phantom Tollbooth, or to listen to music and have a quiet time (they chose music, I had a nice respite).

Our last period, Social Studies, the students worked in small groups and had the choice to work outside, if they wished. It was a beautiful day and there's nothing like an afternoon when the sun seems to be shining down warm, and the breeze seems to be just light enough to keep the air a tad cool enough.

Upon returning home, I opened up my school email and found the above picture made of me by one of my students on her iPod. It made me giggle. There's nothin' like a little levity to lighten my self-made brevity!

It may not be ritual. But being present for it surely stems from my ability to be aware. And, as my friend, Brandy, pointed out in our online Thesis Seminar class: "What we study becomes what we live. "

In Honor of George Harrison's Birthday Tomorrow...

2010-02-24T21:17:00.000-08:00

*(Forgive the discursiveness of tonight's post, but I have no specific thoughts to share, and I would like to take up the space expressing some sentimentality and extreme gratitude for this special artist.)

Born in 1943, George was always my favorite Beatle. I am grateful for his music and his beautiful soul.

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right...

As far as I'm concerned, "Here Comes the Sun," simply makes life better. I can't help but smile even when I feel like poo.

Sun, sun, sun, here we come...

All I got to do is to love you
All I got to be is, be happy
All it's got to take is some warmth to make it
Blow Away, Blow Away, Blow Away.

When "Blow Away" came out, my friend Julie Airale and I spent an entire three hours one night, hanging out in her den, lying on the floor, taking turns getting up to replace the needle on the album groove and replaying this song over, and over, and over...I can still hear George's voice: like butter wind in my ears.

Give me love, give me peace on earth, give me light, give me life, keep me free from birth, give me hope, help me cope, with this heavy load, trying to, touch and reach you with, heart and soul.

Those lyrics are one of the most beautiful prayers I know.

Love one another

Those were Harrison's last words.

Good advice.

Thank you, George.

First Questionnaire Received!

2010-02-23T19:32:00.000-08:00

Today I recieved my first "non-contemplative" teacher interview/questionnaire - filled out with some really good information. I was excited to see that Teacher "A" (as I will refer to her here), has her own Inner Methods that she uses before coming to work in the morning, and that she is very clear about the differences between habit and ritual and routine.

What she said:

A habit is something you do on a regular basis. A ritual is something you do that has a greater purpose or meaning behind it. Rituals are done to broaden your purpose in life or tie you to a greater presence in this world. Habits can be done on purpose or done without realizing it.

A routine is something you do on a regular basis, similar to a habit. A routine provides consistency and discipline. Rituals take what on the outside looks like a routine, but to the individual ties them to a greater purpose or time.

Teacher "A" also said that would be interested ("to some extent") in learning about and /or incorporating new ritual methods into her personal life and/or her classroom as a means of helping her students and herself make greater connections and as a means of deeper learning.
She also stated:

I am not sure how or what rituals for a math classcan be done to connect students with something greater in this world. So, finding some ideas would be interesting to me.

Teacher "A" wrote quite a bit ion response to all my questions and I am looking forward to receiving the other two teachers' answers. The four of us will be meeting in the next week and a half to discuss the questionnaire and have a "live" interview.

Pretty cool.

If at First You Don't Succeed...Stick with Coffee

2010-02-22T16:47:00.000-08:00

This morning, things didn't go per my plan last night.

Exhausted, I quasi-slept through three snooze hits on my alarm (one half-hour). Unable to even think about meditation before a cup of coffee, I grabbed one and sip-gulped it down so that at least I could get out with Love for our Awareness Walk. Both the coffee and the walk helped, and I was then able to slide onto my meditation cushion.

However, I was late after that, and there wasn't time to do an enso or set down for three long-hand pages of writing.

Perhaps Michael is right: maybe I am trying to fit too much into my morning. But upon coming home this late afternoon, I found myself exhausted and there's still so much to do. I wrote (which takes me about one half hour). I am also wondering: If I do Morning Pages in the afternoon, are they still Morning Pages or should I call them "Afternoon" or "Evening" Pages? Will the Julia Cameron police come after me for not doing them first thing?

So, what I found today is that I need to be a bit more flexible with myself. Michael also offered the suggestion of doing some kind of meditation/walking or writing while at work. The thing is, I don't have a planning period, and the half hour I do have for lunch is for...well, lunch. And sometimes getting things prepped for the afternoon, if I haven't already.

Bottom line, is I have a fairly grueling schedule. There is more space when I allow for more spaciousness. Meditation seems to work best for me in the morning, so I will just have to let other things move to later times if and when I need to. Major bottom line: coffee is a must! I don't care if I sound like a whacked-out caffeine addict. That's what I need in the morning, and it's the one thing I am just not willing to part with - especially while in the midst of all that I am in the midst with.

Richard Brown once said, "Reality is always richer than having a good time." Well, I am all for reality - definitely. I'm there every day. But my friend and creativity mentor, Jill Badonsky titled her one-woman show, "I Can’t Always Handle Reality, But It’s Really the Only Place to Get a Good Cup of Coffee." And, that about sums it up: the reality is, I need a good cup of coffee to help me jump start my day. It may be one of my best inner methods.

New Beginnings (to My Day)

2010-02-21T22:35:00.000-08:00

I emailed my Meditation Instructor a copy of yesterday's blog post. He offered a few good suggestions.

He asked why I did my Morning Pages first. He also asked if it helped, or possibly hindered, my meditation practice. I do my Morning Pages first, in part, because I (think) that's what Julia Cameron suggested, and second: I get to drink my first cup of coffee while doing so.

It was seeming, too, that the writing was helping me get more chatter out of my head prior to sitting. However, last Wednesday good ol' Sarah P. settled herself in pretty well during my sitting practice, but she did not appear on one sheet of my Morning Pages.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to try something different. Tomorrow I am going to walk my dog first, drink my coffee (I definitely need to drink my coffee), meditate and then write. Just to see what happens.

Telling (on Myself)

2010-02-20T19:42:00.001-08:00

It is a painful thing to look at your own trouble and know that you yourself and no one else has made it. ~ Sophocles

Okay: I've gotta fess up. I missed my morning meditation on both Thursday and Friday morning (and didn't sit later on either day), and on Wednesday, I allowed dumb ol' Sarah Palin to entertain my thoughts for about a good 80 % of my sitting time.

Wanna know what? It affected me big time. Not meditating (and not getting enough z's) made me feel irritable and unreasonable. You wanna know what else? My students noticed it too. I made amends to them Friday for being such a crankster and they all nodded their heads and said, "Yeah, you have been." Reality check. Can't dodge my behavior around sixth graders. I'm lucky they love me anyway (several of them lingered in the classroom and just shot the shimmy with me after school that day).

I also missed my enso practice on Thursday and Friday. My mornings were jumbled from waking up late and not having enough time to squeeze everything in [Note to self: "Squeezing in" spiritual practices sounds a bit oxymoronic...that's just about on par with "I need to hurry up and slow down."].

So, what can I do different? Well, for one, maybe I can write just one long-hand page instead of three when I wake up late, so that I can fit my meditation in (I always write first thing now, so I may have to sacrafice a bit). I imagine being more disciplined during the week and going to bed early enough so that waking up isn't problematic would be most helpful. But is that realistic? Not always.

I'm thinking I took on a lot deciding to do enso daily. Maybe shooting for three or four times during the week might be a more managable amount of time to devote to that practice right now.

I am such an extremist-type person, it's very easy for me to get into that all-or-nothing mentality. I remember complaining to an old sponsor of mine years ago about not having time to work out. She said to me, "Why don't you just go the gym for 10 or 15 minutes?" I responded, "Because that sounds ridiculous." She countered with, "Well, it would be 10 or 15 more minutes than you are doing right now." And she was right. Any little bit does help.

So I am going back to the basics. I am going to take smaller steps. My inner methods are to help me, not to hurt me or punish me. I can reassess. I am doing these things for me, to help me on my journey, and in turn help others. So the question is, how can I be of best possible use to myself? How can I best nourish me, so I can go out and meet my thesis (and my students and all others I come in contact with) at my best?

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

And the Beat Goes On...

2010-02-19T23:06:00.000-08:00

I just got home from one of the most amazing, awe-inspiring performances I have ever seen!

Tonight I went to a performance of TAO, a Japanese Taiko drumming group, who have"worked to free the Taiko from its confines of being the 'successor of Japan's traditional culture' and develop a totally new genre of entertainment" (from the Mesa Arts Center program, 2010).

Pictures and video cannot do this art justice (though you can certainly sneak a peek here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VoirrIDXFw&feature=related ) "It has to be experienced live," touts the voiceover on TAO's website. And it's true. The TAO performers are exquisite in form, balanced, buoyed, and disciplined by a spiritual connection to their art, their instruments, their environment and one another. I left the theatre feeling like a better human being.

Though the energy, vitality, and sheer physical movement and drumming were completely different, the performance brought back memories of our Naropa visit last summer to the Kyudo Dojo in Boulder. The Taiko performers seemed to have complete awareness of both their front and back heart. While their front and back both appeared strong, it was also clear that both front and back sides were soft and open, as well.

It was also evident that the performance left no room for ego, and that though the performance was beyond compare, it was the preparation that was what mattered the most. Watching each drummer prior to them meeting sticks to drum, reminded me of Caroline (the Sensei's wife) engaging in the preparatory ritual before marrying ya (arrow) to yumi (bow).

What was also incredible to witness was how each individual drummer was completely intent on his/her drum and/or choreography, while at the same time, was able to take in the space and the other performers. Each member of the group seemed to have an intuitive sense of who was where on the stage and when, so precise was their internalization of the movement and sound.

In her book, The Sound of Paper, Julia Cameron encourages "artist dates." Though she suggests they be done solo, I think getting out and partaking in any cultural and/or nature-based activity whether solo or partnered i s a wonderful thing. "The Artist Date is a serious tool fo self-discovery...Many...report that it was on an Artist Date that they felt concious contact with the Great Creator. An Artist Date is sacred time" (Cameron, p. 3). Witnessing TAO defintely felt sacred.

Divine inspiration at its best.

It's Nice to Have Parents Who Have a Genuine Interest

2010-02-18T21:39:00.000-08:00

...Like MINE!

Both of my parents have taken a genuine interest in both my teaching and in my Masters work. My dad reads this blog every day (and he read the first draft of my thesis proposal). Today he said to me over the phone, "I would like to know more about the bow." Isn't that cool?

I think, at first, I didn't know how to talk with my parents about Naropa and what I've been doing there in the summers and in our online classes. On one hand, it feels amazingly intimate, and on another, it often sounds totally ludicrous ("uh...well, we spend 15 minutes meditating and then go into an all yellow room and lie down on the floor in this specific position for 45 minutes and then we do 15 minutes of aimless wandering."). However, last fall, beginning my thesis work, something shifted for me, and in the process, my parents have been inquisitive, supportive, and - like I've said - genuinely interested.

Both my mom and dad will be coming to Boulder this summer for my thesis presentation and graduation. I am excited for them to see Boulder and be part of our Naropa experience. When I first thought about them coming to graduation a year and a half ago, I thought: "Oh, no. Probably not necessary to invite them. It's too...odd. They won't get it." But I don't believe that any more. They'll get it. They'll definitely get it.

I feel so fortunate that I am able to share some of this journey of mine with them.

"Aren't we bowing?"

2010-02-17T19:15:00.000-08:00

This was a question one of my students asked me last Friday afternoon.

We had just returned, semi-en masse as an entire school population from the park down the street. Friday morning was "Athletic Field Day" - an all-school event where our entire student body rotated through 12 different sporting activities in groups of students ranging from 6th-12th grades. Gratefully, it is a once-a-year morning-only event (school let out at 12:25 PM). It's a pretty fun day, but seriously exhausting.

At any rate, all of my students had met in our classroom Friday morning at our regular opening time, 8:25 A.M. We bowed in and took attendance as we do daily. Then we made our way down the street - about a block and a half away - to the park for the event.

When the morning activities were finished up at the park, some of the students left/were picked up from the park, while others trailed back to school for pick up, with faculty scattered here and there to keep watch.

Making my way back to my classroom - some of my students had left their things in there - one of my students ran up to me and asked, in an actually fairly-concerned voice: "Aren't we bowing?" I explained that just for today we weren't, as we didn't come back to school as a class and most of our students had already left the campus for the day. "Oh. Okay," she said. As she turned to go, I couldn't help but smile. Bowing has become so much a part of "what we do," that to miss doing it feels odd.

I noticed this afternoon as we took our places to bow out, that this week's Peer Leader waited a bit longer than usual to lead us off. I so appreciated those moments. Every one of my students stood still and quiet. Everyone of them waited until the Peer Leader began leaning over to take her bow to begin theirs. I felt a ripple of pride. I don't want to be prideful, but theer are moments that I feel such awe of my students - how respectful and caring they are...how much of a real community we have become.

I am grateful that my experiences with the bow at Naropa have transferred so beautifully into my experiences in my classroom. I am grateful that my students respond to it so well, and that my administration and my students' parents accept it without question. I am blessed.

Bowing out, respectfully.

Is That a Voice in my Book Bag?

2010-02-16T20:02:00.000-08:00

I jotted today's entry title down the other day as ,"note to self," and then forgot about it...until this morning.

As I was walking into the Faculty Courtyard at work today, a familiar voice started speaking. The voice was coming from inside my book bag. I don't know why this continues to surprise me almost daily. I remind myself of a young child whose face scrunches up in surprise, and then begins to clap with gleee, when - for the 97th-million time - a Jack-in-the-Box pops out of the tin container, after it's been wound to do so (and the child knows the lid is going to boing open and the clown is going to pop up).

Oh - I should fill you in: I've been carrying around a hand-held tape recorder so that whenever I get an idea for my thesis and don't have pen/paper around, or am in a position where I cannot write (when I'm driving, for example), I simply record my thoughts and ideas. I keep the recorder in a pocket inside my book bag. The thing is, whenever the recorder knocks into something, it turns on.

The first time the recorder went off in my bag, it threw me completely off guard. "Where is that voice coming from?...Hey - that's me! Whaaa...?!...Ohhhh! My tape recorder!" Silly me. And then, silly me again a whole bunch of times because I have a totally kick-butt forgetter, and it always takes me a moment when that recorder goes off, to figure out what exactly is going on.

Which brings me to two points...well, three: First, I give myself kudos for buying this handy little device, because though I don't use it a lot, I certainly use it enough that it helps me take some notes that I would plum foget about it if I didn't have it. Second, I really need to make time to begin transcribing my notes onto the computer (or it's going to be a royal pain in her Majesty's arse if I have to do a whole slew at once), and third: though it's a bit of a nuisance when that voice starts talking straight from my bag, I really appreciate the reminder. It's like having an awareness bell that drills me when I least expect it - "Are you thinking about your thesis, sweetie?" it chimes like a faithful clock tower (that doesn't clang at any particular set time).

So, to the voice in my book bag: thank you.

The Circle Game: Enso as a New Inner Method

2010-02-15T11:08:00.000-08:00

We can't return, we can only look, behind from where we came ~ and go round and round and round in the circle game ~ Joni Mitchell

I am so often caught up in what was or what will be, that remaining present, and simply being in the moment is a constant practice for me. I revel in the times that I am in the here and now without even thinking about it, but more often than not, it is with vigilant attention that I am able to be open to any present moment.

In this process of "The Thesis," it is easy for me to think about what I should have done, or what I need to be doing, or what I'm going to do when...I am much more at peace, much more centered when I am able to see the goal (as my thesis advisor encouraged: "picture yourself in June, in Boulder, presenting your thesis") and yet remain present to do the step-by-step work that is in front of me today.

Last summer I purchased Audrey Yoshiko Seo's book, Enso: Zen Circles of Enlightenment, as well as two special brushes and some paint. My intent: to incorporate enso practice into my daily life. Yesterday, Sunday, February 14, I still had not picked up book or brush. Inspired to "center" myself and refocus my attention after an amazingly busy week, as well as with the incentive of this week's Thesis Seminar discussion topic, I picked up my "tools" and made a beginning.

I re-read the Forward in Seo's book. I set up my art pad, paint, and brush. I pulled out my Enso hand-out from Alexandra's Aesthetics class, and took my position on the floor. I spent three minutes in meditation prior to lifting my brush. I then brought my awareness to the brush itself: feeling first the bristles, and then the wooden handle. I then dipped the brush in my black paint-water mixture and carefully smoothed the paint on the bristles into a tip.

Placing my left hand, palm flat on my art pad, I inhaled as I lifted my right hand above the paper, brush held between my thumb and fingers. As I set the brush down on paper, I allowed it to linger for a moment, before exhaling and sweeping my brush clock-wise from the lower left corner and around, and finally off the paper.

I allowed my breath to move in and out of my body as I sat quietly with my brush in hand. After a few moments, I returned the brush to its resting spot on a paper towel to the right of my art pad. I sat quietly, attending to my breath as my eyes took in the circle I had just made. No judgement. It was simply a circle, created moments prior.

"[Enso] is a direct expression of thusness or this-moment-as-it-is...it is believed that the character of the artist is fully exposed in how she or he draws an enso...Some artists practice drawing an enso daily as a spiritual exercise" (John Daido Loori, in the Foreward to Seo's book, 2006).

I have posted a photo of my first enso above. The text reads: "To start in the middle is to have beginner's mind." My prayer for the day: to remain open, to begin anew, and as Pema Chodron says, "To start where you are."

Greek Fest: A Community of Learners

2010-02-13T16:40:00.000-08:00

I went back this morning and re-read Roshi Joan Halifax's essay, Learning as Initiation: Not-knowing, Bearing Witness, and Healing. This essay was the impetus for my thesis. Though I've read it over many times, I always seem to find new pieces of it that I hadn't read the way I had before.

I specifically picked up the essay this morning because the other day during our Greek Fest at school, I had a couple of moments where I felt like my students and I experienced "bearing witness."

Halifax explains (per the second phase of Roshi Bernie Glassman's "Peacemaker Order") that "...'bearing witness'...emphasizes being fully present to the suffering and joy in oneself and the world." Later in her essay she says, "we realize that the relative and the absolute are interdependent. Samsara and nirvana are one. We also realize that intellectual or emotional reactions are not an absolute...that this present moment will pass..."

On Thursday morning, each of my students presented an oral, memorized mythology story where the character they had researched was the "star" of the story. Some of my students did an incredible job of really bringing the story to life, using costumes, props, "coloring their words," bringing characters to life, and connecting with their audience (the rest of the class). Other students did a fairly good job, while other students struggled. However, all of the students shared a story and, therefore, we were all able to support one another in a shared endeavor. We also had the opportunity to hear the interconnectedness of the ancient Greek myths, and therefore, make connections amongst ourselves.

One of my students attempted to start his story twice, but by the time he got to the third line, he "went up" on his lines (forgot the words). This particular student has a tendency to get frustrated with himself when he doesn't do something "right," or "well enough." We (his classmates and I) all watched as he balled his fists tightly by his sides, tightly closed his eyes (to keep from crying) and looked up to the ceiling (maybe so we wouldn't "see"). He stood like that for quite a few moments.

As gently as I could I said, "[His name], imagine that I have just told you about my weekend. Then imagine you went and told somebidy else exactly what I said. That's what you're doing here. You are simply re-telling a story. A story that you know really well." He relaxed a bit. After a few moments, this student, quietly began to tell his story. There were no bells and whistles, no really expressive moments, but he got through the entire story. His classmates cheered.

Later, during our second round of stories, one of the girls was telling her tale about Artemis, and how she lost her love, Orion. She choked up and stopped, because she couldn't go on. At firs, I was unclear if she couldn't remember the story or she was simply moved by it. Three of the other female students jumped out of their seats and went to hug her. I let this go on for a few moments and then asked the other girls to sit. I asked the student telling the story to continue, if she could. She did. When she finished her story, she too, received a round of cheers and applause.

"Bearing witness" ...being fully present for all of it: the joy and the sorrow, the challenge and the triumph. I think that happened on Thursday.

Besides the story-telling, my students teamed up with the other Sixth Grade section for a team game of Greek Trivial Pursuit, Crazy Olympics, and also had the opportunity to dine on Greek food (served with the help of classroom parents), and watch one another's "three-actor" plays (in ancient Greece, there were never more than three actors in a play, so for a week in drama the students tripled up to create plays based on a theme, and gave their final performance at Greek Fest).

Though Greek Fest wasn't an actual "rite of passage," it bore many of its elements: it was an opportunity for "students to learn through their own experiences, by creating specific educational settings where learners can really 'take the plunge'; by helping them touch the mythic imagination; helping them nurture wisdom and compassion through not-knowing and bearing witness" (Halifax, 1999, p. 179).

What Greek Fest most certainly supported was a "community of learners." Each of us learned from one another and alongside one another. We listened, we shared, and we celebrated all that we had learned previous to that day, and, in the process, learned some more.

Notes to Self

2010-02-12T20:22:00.000-08:00

*Bearing Witness

*Community of Learners

*"Aren't we bowing?"

*Is that my voice in my book bag?

Another long day. Just got home from dinner with my dad.
Will post much-o tomorrow.

Greeked Out!

2010-02-11T20:49:00.000-08:00

Well, not really...but I am pretty pooped from today. I have so much to share about today, but I am tuckered out. Along with Greek Fest, today is my birthday. I can't think of a much better day. My students (and parents) celebrated with me, our Greek Festival was terrific in so many different ways, and my father came to visit me from California this evening.

Today "took the cake" - along with being presented with one (made by one of my "moms" - see photos above) - as far as birthdays go.

I am blessed.

Celebration: Greek Fest

2010-02-10T16:53:00.000-08:00

“Celebrations weave our hearts and souls into a shared destiny” (Bolman & Deal, 1995, p. 96). In some magical way, ceremonies and celebrations that are well carried out build meaning and significance into the life of a group, organization, or community (Williams, 2006, p. 124).

Both sixth grade sections (at Tempe Prep Junior Academy, where I teach) have spent the past month immersed in ancient Greece in their Social Studies, Language Arts and Drama classes. Today their mythology scrapbooks were due: a four-week project where each student had to research one specific character from Greek mythology, and following specific guidelines and criteria, create a "scrapbook" of information about him/her.

This was a big deal assignment.

This afternoon, the students exchanged scrapbooks with one another so that they could share what they had all accomplished. It was quiet in the room, as each student looked through the others' books. It was clear they were excited about sharing their work with their peers and seeing what everyone else had done.

Following the "viewings," each student then had to go through a check list and write a critique/reflection of his/her own work.

Tomorrow, we are having a celebration of our ancient Greek unit with "Greek Fest." For part of the morning, students will be presenting oral stories about the mythology character they studied. The students will also be split into four teams - the Giants, the Olympians, the Titans, and the Half-Bloods (the last team name is based on the modern-day Percy Jackson series, which we've been reading during homeroom) - to play Trivial Pursuit, the ancient Greek version, and for a 6th grade-twist on the Olympics. The students will also be performing "Three-actor plays," and feasting on Greek food for lunch.

Tomorrow will bring together pieces of what we have been exploring for the last 30 + days, in the spirit of play, in the guise of fun, and in an atmosphere of mirth. The students are really excited about the festivities, and after all the hard work they've put in (and they put in a lot of hard work), I have no doubt that some much needed merriment is in order!

Because the students have so much background information to bring with them tomorrow, Greek Fest - though light-hearted in spirit - will be packed with a great deal of significance and understanding. Like the Greeks, the sixth graders will have the opportunity to celebrate the "Good Life," - the balance of academics and play, of seriousness and silliness, and the beauty of participating as full-fledged citizens of TPJA's sixth grade class.

Williams, R. Bruce. (2006). 36 tools for building spirit in learning communities. Thousand Oaks: Corwin Press.

More on Meditation

2010-02-09T20:26:00.000-08:00

This morning I got in a lovingkindness (LK) practice. I hadn't done that all week and what I noticed this morning, is how open I felt after the practice.

It felt like I "shifted" somehow while I was sitting, extending my thoughts. Especially when I was sending LK to a neutral person. There was more space - more heart space, so that when I shifted LK to a very specific person who I am struggling with, I felt a bit more open-hearted to this person.

The person I struggle with is a colleague at work, and this morning I took the LK on the cushion with me. When I saw him - first thing as I walked into the faculty house today - I felt less "snarly." That was a really nice feeling...a really nice "lift."

Small steps. Short post. Hopeful progress.

The Other, Myself

2010-02-08T21:22:00.000-08:00

This morning as I sat down on my cushion, I thought about some of the suggestions I took in during my Shambhala I training last fall. I recalled Bill Bothwell encouraging us to sit with reverence - that our cushion was our throne. I also remember him talking about the Dedication of Merit - practicing it before, as well as after meditating.

I thought about how when I allow my mind to dance off in discursive thinking, I am not practicing reverence of my meditation time. Nor am I being of benefit to anyone (myself or others) by allowing my thoughts to run off like wild horses (as the Sakyong explains).

Each time my mind began to wander today, I did my best to bring my awareness back to my breath, knowing that each moment could serve others, and that this sitting practice was not for my benefit alone. I have a responsibility to "sit up" and "show up" for The Other.

In class, over the past few weeks, I am noticing my students as they perform the task of "Peer Leader," and how they take such care in ringing the Mindfulness Bell. They patiently wait until the entire class is ready to take part in the silence/stillness practice. They are poised. They take their job seriously, knowing that it is for their peers that they hold this charge.

In Other I see Myself. In Myself, I show up for Other.

Simple Intensity, Coupled with Improvisational Urgency

2010-02-07T20:00:00.000-08:00

Tonight I spent some time looking over some of the papers I wrote from my first summer at Naropa. While there are only a couple that I can "pull" from to use in my thesis work, I was awed a bit by my writing.

That first summer we wrote a lot - a lot more than the second summer, and with little time. We also had quite a bit of reading, as I recall, and being that it was the first summer and our introduction to Naropa, it was intense. It was the intensity, however, and the urgency to meet deadlines that - I believe - kept me more present to the work at hand. I have a feeling that's why my papers were so clear...and so raw.

I'm wondering how I can bring some of that intensity, some of that raw-ness and some of that urgency to the draft writing of my thesis...

Two things I thought of utilizing: the Wisdom Energies (which have been encouraged all along) and the paramitas. I remember last Spring in Richard Brown's Compassionate Teaching class, how much the paramitas impacted me. I recall that I seemed to always practice the opposite of each to their full-blown counter-parts in order to really understand the true meaning of each of them (I don't know that that is a necessity for most people, it just seemed to be my experience all the time).

At any rate, with the work I've done this weekend, I am thinking I need to keep both the paramitas and the Energies in clear sight of me while I work. I also think I need to add an element of urgency to my writing.

I have a creative writing book that encourages writing with the assistance of a timer. I think that might be a good exercise for me for awhile. Just set the timer for a small amount of time: 10 - 15 minutes, and write furiously, and see what comes. It may produce some terrific results...and, if not, well, at least I will have given my right hand some good exercise!

Keeping it Real

2010-02-06T18:20:00.000-08:00

We ache to touch intimately what is real, to find the marriage of meaning and matter in our lives and in the world. We ache to feel and express the fire of being fully alive.
~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

As I lay in bed this morning after writing my Morning Pages, I reached over to snuggle with Love (my dog), as she lay at the end of my bed. I relish this time of the morning - whether it is a weekday or a weekend. When I commune with my dog, I "touch intimately what is real." Her name says it all: she is a bundle of love in the purest sense of the word. It's that simple.

Meeting with my co-teacher, Meghan, at school this morning, we made plans for our classes' big upcoming event this Thursday: Greek Fest. We divvyed up who was going to do what/buy what and exactly what our plan was for the day. We noted some other transitions on our calendar for the rest of the semester and we chatted a bit about our personal lives. Meghan and I have led extraordinarily different lives, but our bond, even after just six months is strong, respectful and loving. And we laugh our butts off. We are alive.

This afternoon, I rode on the back of a Harley up to a town called Carefree, just North of Scottsdale. Though I wore a helmet, the feeling of being open to the elements and simply enjoying the ride reminded me of my connection to the present, my connection to the world...meaning.

This evening I put a twist on a Julia Cameron exercise from her book, The Sound of Paper. I pasted magazine images and words into an art journal that I have kept tucked away for so very long (the last entry was 2008). To just sit and create. To be present for matter and meaning. To express - to be "fully alive"...

These things that nurture my soul, nurture my thesis. They inspire, ground, and feed me. They keep it real.

"Reality is always richer than having a good time" - R. Brown
*(Though you can certainly have a good time in reality).

Connecting the Dots

2010-02-05T21:59:00.001-08:00

Who we are and the environment we create in class are at least as important as the teaching skills we possess. ~ Rachael Kessler

This morning I woke up on time. I wrote my three long-hand written Morning Pages. I made my way out the door with Love and had time for a good walk-about and was able to attend to my Awareness Walk. I did not have to rush to my cushion. I had time to meditate. And I had a whole rush of ideas and a sense within my mind and body that the thing that really tickled me to the core about my thesis subject was the connection of me to my students.

Ritual serves as a conduit for this connection. I feel alive and connected and am constantly learning about me and my relatonship to my self, others, and the world through my personal rituals. I want my students to have similar experiences. To feel alive...to feel connected - even when alone - to simply feel...and to notice - to be aware - and to want to be even more aware...to want to know, to want to seek, to want to imagine, to want to create, to want to simply be.

On the last day of our session at Naropa last summer I wrote the following aspiration:

I aspire to...
Let go.
Let it be.
And welcome whatever is yet to come.

When I actually do this, I find that I get exactly what I need.

Last night I received feedback from my thesis advisor. I received thoughtful, provocative questions. I received encouraging suggestions. I received an objective view that I simply didn't have - a new pair of eyes who could see through some of my murk to a clear path of movement.

This morning with these questions and ideas dropping in, I allowed them to linger in my mind and rest in my body. "You might want to organize this...into two headings...Is your thesis about teachers in general or about you? If it is about you..get even more specific...I think personal is better...What is the difference between practice and ritual?...What is your connection to these rituals in regards to your thesis? Make this connection more clear..."

It is about my connection. It is personal. I rambled into my hand-held tape recorder this morning.

Connections abounded today in my classroom. From small sweet gestures and silly vocal and physical warm-ups, to the greater collective quiet reverence that comes when we ring the mindfulness bell.

A new book I received three days ago from Amazon, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice by Catherine Bell discusses ritual and practice and the distinctions of both. I just read that tonight. Auspicious that I did so right after Mary asked that question.

Sadly, Rachael Kessler passed away last week. However, the news of her passing prompted me to visit the PassageWorks (Kessler founded the organization in mid-1980's) website. There I found three articles that are completely helpful to me in my thesis work.

The Universe, God - the great powers of the world - are conspiring. The dots are being connected.

Thoughts on Thursday

2010-02-04T20:25:00.000-08:00

Went to bed far, far too late last night (and missed posting here on the blog. S**t! I'm not perfect!) and woke up with a feeling reminiscent of a hangover, sans the alcohol. I overslept and upon awakening, I did have a feeling I was back in the "old days." Ugh.

No Morning Pages. No Awareness Walk. No Meditation. No Shower. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh, and ugh!

My day went surprisingly well, despite.

Tonight I received feedback from my thesis advisor, Mary. I am so grateful for that right now. I so very much need an outside perspective. Someone objective. And someone who can offer me suggestions and questions and ideas on how to really get specific with my work. I am so "in" it, that I can't see my work clearly - even when I step away from it for a bit and come back to it.

Tomorrow night I am going to read over Mary's words again with my thesis proposal in hand, and then make notes and chart my path.

Now, I'm going to get some sleep.

Are You Now or Have You Ever...

2010-02-02T19:35:00.000-08:00

...incorporated ritual into your classroom, consciously or sub-consciously?

I didn't realize how difficult coming up with "good" interview questions would be! Every time I try to come up with one I feel so...so...boring, so pedestrian. I keep hearing myself encouraging my students, "Dig deeper!"

Part of me wants to say, "Well, I can't dig deeper. I can't do this. I don't even know why I'm doing these interviews anyway" (pout, stomp foot, cross arms)!

I have no doubt that some of my students say the same things to themselves when I ask them to create discussion questions. How can I expect my students to think critically if I'm not willing to do the same? How can I expect them to keep trying, to keep digging, to make re-writes, if I don't keep on keeping on?

Right now I am a little stuck (mostly in my thinking). I also have been before - but I got un-stuck too. There's that little bit of wiggle room that always appears...a loosening...and then typically a clearing, and then a path to walk on.

Sometimes you dig...sometimes you widdle...and sometimes you walk away...

...and come back later.

It's That Time of the Month...

2010-02-01T18:45:00.000-08:00

...In my classroom (not the other time of the month you're thinking about).

At the beginning of each month I pass out two hand-outs. One is called the "Monthly" and the other is our class Rota schedule for the coming month.

"Monthly's" offer information about the new month we are about to embark on. Obviously, today being February 1, the Monthly was entitled February (from the Latin words februarius mensis - meaning month of purification).

The first paragraph is all about the origins of the month, why it has the name it has, how many days are in the month, etc.

Next, the month's flower and gemstone are listed (February's is the violet and the amethyst, respectively), followed by a listing of variously registered National holidays (i.e. "Return your shopping cart to the grocery store month," or "National cherry month," or "Black History Month").

Then, specific holidays of the month are explained: When they are and what they celebrate/honor. For example, February 2 is Ground Hog Day, while the third Monday of the month is Presidents' Day (this year, February 15).

Sometimes I incorporate the name of the month or the holidays into our school work. Last month we did an art project inspired by Janus (the Roman god of doorways and new beginnings), for whom January is named. We also spent a good deal of time learning about Martin Luther King, Jr. and writing poems inspired by his "I Have a Dream" speech. It also happened to be National Letter Writing Month and my students had the opportunity to write letters.

Some months we don't use the "Monthly" at all, except to acknowledge the passage of one month and welcome in the next.

The Rota schedule is the job schedule for Room 503 (my homeroom). I borrowed this idea from the Naropa summer intensive. Rota is an especially British term. It is "a list of person's acting, or duties to be done, in rotation" (Oxford Illustrated Dictionary, 1998). My students are each responsible for a particular job every other week. "Peer Leader" is the first job on the rotation. The Peer Leader leads the opening and closing bow every day. They also ring the mindfulness bell at the beginning of each new subject period. The "Attendance" person brings the attendance sheets in the morning and the afternoon to the Main Office. The "Homework Scribe" is another job on the schedule. This person's job is to make sure that the Science homework (students go across the hall for Science) gets written on our classroom whiteboard upon return to our classroom. Other jobs included are "Supply Table," "Duster," and "Recycling" (a couple of people team up to do the last two).

Rota fits into our classroom philosophy O.T.O. (Other Than Ourselves). It is about pitching in and taking care of our classroom and one another. Rota gives each student a chance to step up and be a part of our classroom community in a specific way every other week. It fosters awareness and responsibility.

When both the Rota schedule and the "Monthly" are passed out to the students each month, there is always a bit of excitement about who has what job when, and what kind of "holidays" will be coming up in the next 28-31 days. There is a hint in the air of new beginnings, as we leave the old month behind.

It is where the Kyu and the Jo meet and greet: The Kyu being the "rapid conclusion," while the Jo serves as a good, "orderly beginning" (Jo, Ha - an intensification, or a breaking away, Kyu...Naropa speak).

There are Days Off and Then There are Off Days

2010-01-31T21:27:00.001-08:00

Today I took a day off from my thesis. I did nothing except some inner methods this morning.

Last week I had a couple of "off" days. Writing was laborious. Focus was nowhere to be found.

The difference between a day off and an off day is choice. Choosing to take a day "away from" is a whole different ball game then having a day that "gets away."

Tomorrow night I have a thesis "date." My thesis and I are going to spend some intimate time together. Because I have chosen to do so.

Today was today. And in the spirit of Scarlett O'Hara, "Tomorrow is another day."

Dog Day Mornings

2010-01-31T10:28:00.000-08:00

I posted a week or two ago about my morning awareness walks with Love (my pup...my eight and half-year-old pup), and how our morning walks are one of my inner methods while I am engaged in the thesis process. Well...

Yesterday I picked up a copy of Science of the Mind magazine. I don't know much about Science of the Mind - but the issue had two clips on the cover of articles that would be found inside: "Living Mindfully," read one, and the other stated, "Animals Teach the Power of Now." It turns out that Science of the Mind followers incorporate many of the same philosophies as Quakers do and as Buddhists do.

The article that struck me most was entitled Animal Spirits by Barry Ebert. Ebert discusses the collaboration between Patrick McDonnell (Mutts cartoonist) and Eckhart Tolle (author) on a book that honors animals - especially pets - entitled Guardians of Being. McDonnell says that one of the reasons he and Tolle chose the title they did for their book was because "animals show us how to stop thinking and just be" (Ebert, 2010, p. 19). That's one of the main reasons why I appreciate my time with Love on our morning walks. Because I stop thinking and just be where Love is. I get to see and feel and hear and sense the extraordinary in the ordinary - without doing anything but being.

As I continue on my journey throughout this thesis process, I am constantly awed by the sources that come my way just by being open. I don't even have to search them out most times, they simply show up. In the movie Field of Dreams, Kevin Costner is told, "If you build it they will come." In the reality that is my life, I have found that "If I'm open, they [resources, inspiration] will come."

And so they have. And so they will.

*I posted this last night (Saturday) but, unfortunately, I posted it to my Room 503 Blog by accident. Oops!

The Nature of Paradox or As the Tables Turn

2010-01-29T14:23:00.000-08:00

Today, in an attempt to guide my students on their way to successful writing, we made sandwiches in Language Arts. Well, two students made sandwiches while the rest of the class watched.*

"Sandwiches," you ask?! "How do sandwiches and writing have any correlation whatsoever?"

I'm glad you asked.

I actually borrowed and tweaked the idea from Erin Gruwell's The Freedom Writers Diary Teacher's Guide. To help her students understand what "ingredients" make up good writing, she used sandwiches as a metaphor. It's a good metaphor.

So I had two students come up to the front of the class and join me at a table I had set up. One half of the table was covered with a pretty blue-patterned table cloth, the other was bare. The tablecloth side contained a real plate, a cloth napkin, and a real knife. These were flanked by two candles (which I allowed the students to light), condiments, two kinds of deli meats, two kinds of cheeses, lettuce and tomato. The uncovered half of the table had a paper plate and paper napkin and a package of Oscar Mayer turkey.

Each student was given two slices of bread. The student at the uncovered half of the table received white bread. The student at the covered half of the table received 12-Grain. They were then both asked to make a sandwich using the ingredients on their half of the table.

I imagine that you can imagine both sides' outcomes.

After cutting both sandwiches in half, exposing the "insides" of each, I had the students hold their sandwiches up for the rest of the class to see. "Which one looks more inviting?,"I asked. "Which one has more colors? Tell me what you know about bread...What are the characteristics of a tomato? What do you think of when you think of lettuce?"

Following this discussion, I passed out menus. And here, you need a little bit of background information:

For the past few weeks we have been studying ancient Greece in Social Studies and concurrently we have been reading Greek mythology in Language Arts. We have also read some of Aesop's Fables and, last week, my students wrote their own fables.

The menus I passed out were for a fictitious Language Arts restaurant called Aesop's Tables (est. 2009, with my first class of sixth graders). At Aesop's Tables patrons can begin with "Starters." Highly recommended is a slice of bread, also known as the introduction. On a sandwich, the bread is the first thing your mouth tastes, so you want it to be good. The same is true of the opening paragraph in your writing.

After "Starters" we move onto the "Fixings" - everything in between: the meat, the body of the piece (characters and events); the cheese, which enriches the writing (themes and images), tomatoes, the specific and juicy details (adjectives, adjectives!), and the lettuce - which gives the piece a crisp, clean writing style (grammar, punctuation - structure). The Piece de Resistance: "Desert," of course! The second piece of bread: the conclusion.

I then explained to my students that we were going to use their newly written fables as a foundation to begin our writing. Most all of my students have been taught how to write paragraphs before, however, not many of them really learned how. Like everything, writing is a process. And herein lies the paradox.

I am a teacher. However I am a student. That is very clear. I teach sixth grade at a charter school in Tempe, Arizona. I am also a graduate student at Naropa University, located in Boulder, Colorado. But while I am teaching, I am also learning - from my students, from myself - I am always making new discoveries, always seeing things I didn't see before, or understanding things from a new and different perspective. This happens daily. Some days are more, "Wow! I could've had a V-8!" than others. Today was a "Wow! I could've had a V-8!" day.

Last night I completed the second draft of my thesis proposal. Today, I offered my students a beginning lesson in writing, but I really think the person who could benefit from that lesson most - at least right now - is me! I'm all fired up about re-looking at and re-thinking the writing of my thesis project. And that's a good thing. But I am going to wait one more day to look at it again. Just like today gave me a new perspective, I believe having another day away from what I finished last night, might be more beneficial. Distance and space often allow one to look more closely and see more clearly. But that is a paradox for another day.

*I brought doughnut holes for all of the students, by the way. If you are an elementary or middle school teacher, you know that you cannot bring food into a classroom unless you feed the masses. If you don't, they start rioting (if you do not teach middle school or elementary school - I am not kidding!).

I Propose...To Not Write More This Evening

2010-01-28T20:49:00.000-08:00

I just completed a second draft of my thesis proposal.

I have no idea if it's "good" or not, but I have deemed it "good enough" for now. I did a lot of work revamping my second chapter, the "Literature Review," which I had done incorrectly the first time. I think the chapter could use some more tweaking: a bit more organization and probably a bit more support to give it better structure. But on the whole, I think it's in good shape.

I had my first "phone meeting" with my thesis advisor, Mary, this evening and feel happy to have established a "live" conection. She was very supportive and gave me some good suggestions. One of which, was to visualize me in June...in Boulder...giving my thesis presentation. I'm definitely taking that suggestion.

At the Expo for the P.F. Chang's Marathon/Half-Marathon I participated in two weeks ago, I got a fortune cookie. I taped my fortune to the outside of my datebook which stands up in a basket on my desk at home and reads: "Obstacles are what you see when you take your eyes off the goal." So I will be keeping the visual of me presenting my thesis at the forefront of my mind.

I'd like to write on, but I am going to write off the rest of the evening. For tonight, my work is done.

Incorporating New Practices

2010-01-27T17:01:00.000-08:00

I received a book by Julia Cameron from my friend, Joan, the other day. The book is called The Sound of Paper. I have Cameron's book The Artist's Way, but haven't read it for some time. In the beginning of The Sound of Paper, Cameron has a section entitled, "In Your Backpack." She emphasizes three essentials for working with the book. One of them is "Morning Pages."

"Morning Pages" are a tool Cameron has touted throughout her career. I never really took heed to them, but upon reading the reasons why this time around, I decided to give them a shot. The author writes:

Morning Pages prioritize our day. They render us present to the moment. They introduce us to an unsuspected inner strength and agility. They draw to our attention those areas of our life that need our focus. Both our weaknesses and our strengths will be greatly revealed. Problems will be exposed, and solutions suggested (Cameron, 2004, p. 2).

Cameron encourages writing three long-hand pages upon awakening. I have now utilized this practice for the past four days. I am finding that I appreciate the simple discipline of it. I also think it is helping me empty out some of what's rattling around in my brain prior to my sitting practice. Not that my brain isn't still active during shamatha, but it seems to be a little less busy.

In her book Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg explains that writing itself can be a kind of meditation practice, if utilized in that way. Currently, it feels reflective and contemplative, but not quite meditative to me. But I get what she means.

Michael, my meditation instructor, also offered up another practice. In Sakyong Mipham's Turning the Mind Into an Ally he offers eight-step instructions for Contemplative Meditation practice. It can be found in the back of the book on p. 227, Appendix C. I practiced this last night and had a good sitting practice with my breath, focusing on an intention, allowing images come up to support that intention, and then letting them go and returning to breath. It seems a good tool to use prior to sitting down with my thesis project.

Today, I listened to my body. I am worn out. I stayed home from work. I napped a lot. Practiced my inner methods. Caught up on reading I had assigned my students, but I myself hadn't gotten to, did a bit of prep, and dabbled with my thesis. Then I napped some more. And some more. A much needed day of rest.

Reading Lines and Other Connections

2010-01-26T21:08:00.001-08:00

Anyone up for an improvisational let's-make-connections lesson plan?

Objectives: To support a friend; To give students an opportunity to practice letter writing; To encourage reflection of a daily ritual

Amount of time needed: Three quarters of a class period = 45 minutes.

Directions:

Step 1: Discuss communication modes in present day America, with the main two being email and text messages: Sound bytes. Offer an example.

Step 2: Ask how many students have written a hand-written letter in their life time? How many in the past month? Have they received a letter in the mail? What's the difference between receiving a hand-written letter and an email? How does it feel?

Step 3: Explain that January is National Letter Writing Month. Discuss how to open a letter (salutation). Discuss the differences between a personal letter and a business correspondence.

Step 4: Bring up O.T.O. (Other Than Ourselves, our classroom philosophy). Explain that, as a class, the students\ have the opportunity to help someone out.

Step 5: Explain that a fellow classmate in your grad school program has just changed her thesis idea. Explain that she is going to explore reading aloud to students in the classroom. Ask the students in your class if they would help your friend by writing her a letter about their experiences being read aloud to (because you read aloud to your students for almost a half-hour every day in homeroom). Ask your students to share their experiences so that maybe they can serve as data for your friend (and think to yourself, "or at least put a smile on her face").

Step 6: Give students stationary with hand prints on it and explain that they are offering "helping hands" to your friend.

Step 7: Realize that you have a connection to your fellow classmate in grad school, and now your students do as well - even though they have never met. Continue to realize that your students now have the opportunity to take what they have gotten from their read aloud time, and offer their experiences up to another. Realize, as well, that your thesis topic of ritual has a connection to your friend's new topic. Realize that as your students are writing these letters, they are engaged in self-reflection. Note that that is one of the sub-topics in your own study.

Step 8: Make a MAJOR NOTE about the connections you just drew and that everything you did with your students in that class period today, and what you wrote above, is all connected.

Step 9: Think about James Cameron's Golden Globe's speech:

Avatar asks us to see that everything is connected, all human beings to each other, and us to the Earth.

Step 10: Notice that you were able to offer a lesson on writing, an opportunity for service, time and space for reflection, and that you just got yourself some fodder for your own thesis as well as created an offering for a friend.

Allow lesson plan to linger.

Student Feedback Tells Me There is a Connection

2010-01-25T15:27:00.000-08:00

I received an email from one of my students in response to a posting I had written on this blog. This particular student had asked if she could read my blog (she saw it one day at school), and I had given her the URL. I wasn't aware that she was continuing to read it. Here is what she wrote:

Wow Ms.Pitman, I really loved what you put about the universe giving you the message to speak to the highest within people. that was really encouraging for me, It made me think about how i can be really disrespectful to my friends and family, because I'm realizing that they are people too, with feelings and convictions, once I realize that, it is easier to follow the golden rule and do unto others as you would have them do unto you. i dont know if this was really the message you were trying to communicate to your blog readers but i sure got something out of it, Thanks!

There's also another thing, Ive been thinking alot lately about my future, what will i be, will I marry?. I also think about humankind's destiny and truth. i ask myself questions like, what is really true? (And a more recent one) is the right choice always the best? So I'm thinking that we should organize a club sorta thing for the sixth grade, which is kind of like humane letters, we discuss issues of past and future, we give our intake, we discuss books, but a very deep level. anyone can join. I would looooove to do this( being the nerd I am). Anyway, maybe you should think about it.

Here's the thing: this student is - quite obviously - a deep thinker. She is insightful, creative, and thinks in ways that are seemingly beyond her sixth grade years (by the way - she did, indeed, give me her permission to post her email here, sans her name). But for a student to be able to express herself to me in the way she does (and there have been other incidences where we have had conversations ranging from religion to personal family matters) - that tells me that she and I, as teacher and student and as person to person, have established a connection.

My sense is that this student feels safe enough to trust me with her very personal thoughts and feelings, and that tells me that our classroom atmosphere, created by the students and myself, is providing a forum for those connections to happen.

To follow up, I talked with the above student today, and we are going to see what we can do to put together a discussion group that meets, perhaps, just one time per month. But I love the idea that she is enthused about starting something like this. Some of the dicsussions we have in Language Arts [my homeroom class] would go well past the hour allotted if they could. I have no doubt that some of my other students would be interested in a group where they could exchange ideas on a myriad of subjects.

With this connection, my sense is that deeper learning is indeed happening. A sense of wonder is being nurtured and depth of inquiry is being explored.

On Friday, after school, I was talking to a Parent/Board member out in the courtyard. I saw a male student from the other sixth grade class waiting to talk to me. When I was done with the parent, I turned and asked the student what I could do for him.

This particular student is taller than me (I'm 5'5") and is a bit gangly. As I stood with him in the courtyard last Friday afternoon, he stood with his hands in his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other, unable to look me in the eye. He said, "Well, I just wanted to say that I really like your methods." (I had no idea what he was referring to exactly - what I teach? How I teach? - but I didn't want to ask him because he seemed pretty uncomfortable as it was).

He went on: "And my family likes your methods. There's five of us in our house and we all agree: we like your methods." (Methods? I thought. What does he really mean by that? And he keeps using that word!) "Even my brother likes your methods," he continued. "We were talking about them last night, and...we were wondering if...maybe...maybe you would be willing to have a conversation with us about your...your methods."

I said, " ______, thank you so much for letting me know that. I would be happy to have a conversation sometime with you and your family." I squeezed his shoulder. He then patted mine, and said, "Well, good. Good. And have a good weekend."

I am still not sure what this student meant by "methods," but I was tickled that he would tell me, and I believe he was quite brave to let me know. I also figured, something is happening here: some kind of connection.

Both of the above interactions are - to me - worth noting because this means that some kind of emotional, as well as intellectual, connection is being made between (at least a few of) the students and myself. And, I would like to think it has a great deal to do with the rituals we practice in the classroom.

Marge, Where are You? And Where IS my Inner Brat?!

2010-01-24T18:46:00.000-08:00

My creativity mentor, Jill Badonsky (check her out at http://www.themuseisin.com/, and you can check out her blog based on her way cool book, The Awe-manac, over to the left, below "Blog List"), wrote a book entitled The Nine Modern Day Muses (and a Bodyguard): 10 Guides to Creative Inspiration for Artists, Poets, Lovers, and Other Mortals Wanting to Live a Dazzling Existence. In her book she updated the nine muses from ancient Greece, to aid us 21st Century mortals in breaking through insecurities, procrastination, and other things that block our creative powers and abilities.

One of the muses she created was Marge (based on the Frances McDormand character in the movie Fargo), muse of Okay-Now-Let's-Get-Started. Jill gives four very good reasons for when it would be best to "summon" Marge, one being when "You are overwhelmed with the task before you - you feel immobilized, frozen, inert, and not quite sure where to start, so you reconsider starting at all" (Badonsky, p. 218).

Well, here's the deal: I am in the midst of re-working my thesis Literature Review, and I've started, but now I'm "inert." I am not reconsidering starting over, but I am considering stopping, and I really need to push through and carry on for a bit more this evening, so that I complete what I need to for this week's deadline. I thought, that if perhaps, I took a break and reached into my bag of tricks for some inspiration, I might be able to get myself back on track.

Here's the thing: I know that I don't have to do some bang-up stellar job this evening. I merely have to put fingers to keyboard and get something out. In the Marge chapter, Jill quotes Woody Allen: "Eighty percent of success is showing up." And I can do that...if I just get out of my own darn way.

The thing is, that inert feeling is really my whiny, rebel baby saying, "But I don't wanna!" In which case, Jill has offered up Bea Silly, the muse of Play, Laughter, and Dance. And do you know what Bea Silly would have me do? She'd have me do a little two-step, Cha-Cha-Cha, a 190 degree twirl ('cause it's always good to twirl to your own set of degrees), channel my inner brat and say, "So what, I'm doing it anyway!"

It's hard to remember all my tools when I am stuck in the muck. But just taking a break and going back to the basics is like getting a little nudge, a little nectar and ambrosia power boost. So I'm off to "show up" for my thesis. If I don't post tomorrow, you'll know I twirled right off my axis!

Can Outer Work Affect Inner Mind?

2010-01-23T20:01:00.000-08:00

My desk/office space is in my second bedroom. Ever since the middle of Winter break, that room (and my desk) have been filled with clutter: student projects and assignments (due to working on student evaluations), my own school projects and assignments, and various bills, paperwork, books - you name it, it was probably in my second bedroom!

I have felt overwhelmed having to swim through stacks of "stuff" to get to my desk. My dog has probably felt the same, as "her bed" has been cluttered with piles, and she has had to wade through the stacks to even get to it.

After weeks of feeling helpless about my state of messiness and clutter, I finally got off my duff and did something about it. Basically, it looks like I just rearranged my piles and put them in the dining area (I am still sans a dining room table and chairs, six months after moving into this place). But, really, I did throw a ton of stuff out, organized what was left, and even found proper places to put things away.

All the things I moved into the dining room area are things I need to bring back to work, anyway, so my plan is to move a bit of the mountain at a time, to school with me every day this coming week. Five manageable hills sounds more do-able than one massive mountain.

I have a pile now of all my thesis books, papers, etc. next to my desk, and I believe this week I'll go purchase a file cabinet to organize these things so that they will be easily accessible as I need them over the next few months.

I already feel better being able to see the floor of my second bedroom, the bed made and tidy - sans papers - and my desk completely clutter-free. I am, therefore, assuming that my mind is already much more open to focusing on all that I need to be putting my energy towards.

I attended a writer's conference in San Francisco about four years ago, and I remember listening to two different writers dialoguing about the ways they work best, including how they arrange and like their writing space. One of the women said that she needs her desk to be absolutely free of anything other than her computer, while the other said that she works best amongst an array of books, papers, and assorted what-elses. She barely had elbow room and said she couldn't write otherwise.

While I was pleased to hear that I wasn't alone (being the pile horse I am), I relished the idea of being a Spartan writer, like the first woman. However, I think I function best as a bit in between the two. I can't have a complete tabula rasa of a work space, but I certainly have learned that clutter muddles me up, and so I can no longer work - or at least I can't work well - with an array of...of everything in my space.

Lee Worley once said, "Make space your friend." I don't know that she had an office space in mind, but I'd like to think that my mind will be a better friend to me (and I to it) with more space in my office.

Some Forward Movement and A couple of Steps Back

2010-01-22T21:36:00.000-08:00

Today I had lunch with eleven of my students from last year. I had invited them earlier in the week, telling them I wanted to talk to them about what I am doing for my thesis...and that I'd supply lunch (food is definitely the way to 7th grade boys' - and one girl -hearts).

Over pizza, I explained to the students what I was doing and that I would really like to get at least six volunteers to meet with me and discuss their experiences and also respond to a questionaire about their experiences in my classroom last year. I think I got about eight students who are willing to work with me. Next week I will give them permission slips for themselves and their parents to sign.

It was really nice to hang out with my old students. I don't get too much of a chance to connect with them this year and it was nice to sit in our classroom and "stroll down memory lane." We laughed a lot and I feel good that I have laid out that groundwork for this particular part of my thesis exploration.

On a completely different note, I have skipped my morning meditation the past two days as I have either overslept or had to leave the house super early. It was evident this morning that I had missed my meditation. I had a first-thing snap at two of my students. Not that they didn't deserve a bit of a "reminder" about their behavior, but I got pretty irritated, pretty quickly. It may not have been due to missing my meditation - it simply could have been that I was over-tired, or that I wasn't being mindful of what was going on in my head and body at that moment, a combination of the two, or something else. However, it is worth looking at that I missed two days in a row of meditation and that my eating has been off.

Healthy, mindful eating and meditation are both important components of my inner methods as I continue working on my thesis. I need to recommit myself to both. I know they will only help me in this endeavor.

Mi Perspective, Su Perspective? I Wonder...

2010-01-21T22:12:00.000-08:00

I have been noticing over the past few days (well, really, I have noticed here and there over the entire school year, but notably over the past few days), that my homeroom class and the other sixth grade class I teach (Language Arts and Drama) are very different in their demeanor, as a group.

Somehow, my homeroom seems more cohesive. They seems more flexible and more willing to take risks. I noticed this particularly when we had an impromptu improv session during social studies the other day, when both classes happened to be together for a film, and the projector wasn't working properly. My students seemed excited - it was actually their idea- and jumped in and had a blast. The other class seemed to hold back, but for a few (mind you, so did a few in my homeroom), and didn't seem quite as engaged, even as audience members (my homeroom students were).

There is a rhythm with my homeroom students that I don't seem to encounter with the other class. I wonder if Meghan, the other sixth grade teacher has the reverse experience. I wonder if I feel a sense of "ownership" with my homeroom - a more familial connection - and so I experience those students differently than the other class. I imagine, in a way, it's like a parent with their own child(ren): their kids are the best kids. I wonder if a complete outsider came in and observed me with both classes and Meghan with both classes what they would see.

I wonder mostly, if the rituals we do in my homeroom affect the atmosphere. Though I practice certain rituals with the other class, my homeroom has "more" - and they are designed to create community (i.e. the bow, how we take attendance, ROTA). But even in our language arts tea discussions (which happen in both classes), my homeroom students seems much more engaged.

I have to note I have language arts with homeroom 2nd period, and I have language arts with the other class, in the afternoon, 4th period. That may account for why there's a difference right there. But somehow, I don't think that's all.

At any rate, I was noticing. And wondering.

The Mindfulness Bell

2010-01-20T19:08:00.000-08:00

Today I am grateful for the mindfulness bell we use in our classroom. Before we begin each subject, the peer leader of the week comes up to my desk and rings the mindfulness bell.

I like how each peer leader waits (now) until the whole class settles down and notices what is about to happen. Sometimes they don't. I try to just focus my attention on that student (or students) who are still moving around, or have their attention elsewhere, until they look at me and realize they need to stop what they are doing and get quiet.

For just a few moments the class sits. Often I use that moment to refocus myself. I breathe. I remember that I am here to be of service. I remember to be present. Other times, the moments go by and before I know it, the reverberation of the bell has faded away and I realize I wasn't even conscious of what I was thinking, except that I certainly wasn't present. And, that's the moment too: a reminder that I can become present right now.

I don't know that every student in my classroom appreciates the bell, but I know that some definitely do, and that is enough. If not for them, I'm glad it's there for me...to remember to be there for them.

Medi-WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY?!-tation

2010-01-19T15:55:00.000-08:00

This morning as I sat for my customary meditation time, I had one of those experiences where my mind wandered off...many times. Not that that's so unusal, but noticing my thoughts today was...Well, not so much the noticing part, but noticing how I was thinking.

My thoughts today were sort of interestingly different. First I was thinking about an aquaintance of mine who just had a baby a month and a half ago. The baby's father relapsed (he had - supposedly - been sober for awhile) just before the baby was born. Anyway, the gist is, I was thinking about this friend of mine has been up and down a similar road before, and here she was again...

And I caught myself and labeled it "thinking," and went back to my breath.

Then I thought about how I use thoughts like the one above as a distraction from self. If shamatha is about becoming better aquainted with self, then I am spending time trying to deflect from myself by focusing on "other."

But then I labeled that thought thinking and returned to my breath. Mindful of the inhale and following it all the way out through the exhale.

Then, I started thinking about my students, and a note I received from The Universe (I get these daily in my email, here it is...);

*Whenever conferring with another, Nicky, either face to face or across the miles, whether a human being, departed spirit, or sentient tree, always speak to the highest within them.

Makes such a difference.

Amen,
The Universe

And I started thinking about how sometimes I don't "speak to the highest within them," and then...

I labeled that "thinking" and came back to my breath.

And on and on it went.

Then I had the thought that when I think those kind of thoughts I justify them as "okay" or "better thoughts to have" because I am thinking about my students, and how I can be of best use. And then I thought, but I am not being of "best use" because my practice is to empty my mind...to let thoughts roll in and roll out, not to massage them and engage with them.

And then I labeled THAT "thinking" and then my alarm went off to end my meditation session.

Today I felt fuzzy and grumpy. And I couldn't tell if it was because of my practice this morning, if my mind and body were still worn out from the 1/2 marathon on Sunday, if it was the rainy, gray weather, a combination of all of them, or "just one of those days." Whatever it was, it was. But I am aware of it. I'm noticing it. Sometimes I have to let that be enough.

*http://www.tut.com

Student Poem

2010-01-18T19:20:00.000-08:00

I received the following just prior to Winter Break:

Oh, geez, what can I say? Ms. Pitman you rock.
I now know the definition of "objective" and "mock."
Reading those books was really fun,
And now I'm so sad that we are done.
I will remember the things we learned in class 503,
And I will always keep them close to me.
Learning Hamlet was a really hard thing to do,
But somehow some way, we all pulled through.
I love the peace and serenity you created in our class,
And of course, adding a bit of sass.
We couldn't have done anything without you,
Like knowing an onomatopoeia is like saying "moo."
Over break I'll try not to forget,
The things you have taught me since we met.

So I am thinking that this poem is feedback of sorts (and this student is not in my homeroom - I have her for Drama and Language Arts). It indicates that repetition is important. That she is "getting" a sense of "peace and serenity" from our ritual of ringing the mindfulness bell at the beginning of Language Arts class and/or from our breath work and self-check in at the beginning of Drama.

Is this measurable evidence? Does it bear any scientific merit? Is emotional feedback an appropriate way to gage how well ritual plays a role in deeper learning and connection?

Morning Walk

2010-01-18T06:54:00.000-08:00

For sometime now, I have been calling my morning walks with my dog, Love, my "awareness walks." I do my best to keep my focus on her and notice what she notices, and how she notices, and what she does.

Yesterday morning (and, admittedly some other mornings) I woke up later than I needed to and did a "rush job" walking her. Didn't spend a lick being aware - except to be aware of the little time I had to get to where I was going (a half-marathon). This morning, I had time. But it had started to rain.

First, I thought that Love and I would just walk around our apartment complex (grass lawns and sidewalk paths) because I didn't want to be out in the rain. But then I thought I had better make sure she has a good walk now, as later it may be raining harder. I also had to be honest with myself: I was simply not in the mood to walk. I wanted to put it off. I didn't feel like being present and aware. I wanted to crawl back in bed.

But that little voice, that little reasonable Karma voice jumped in and said, "Nicky, this is what you committed to doing. Stick with your commitments. Stay the course. You will be happier if you do." So, off we went.

Walking through the alley way, I listened to Love's little nails clicking against the pavement. She seemed to pay no attention to the rain drops as they lightly fell on her head and back. If we had a backyard and I opened the door to let her out, Love would choose to stay inside. She does not like the rain...Unless she is being taken for a walk. Then the rain doesn't seem to bother her at all. Interesting.

Love has a tendency to want to walk across the street from our complex, and the second we hit the sidewalk (my unit sits about 1/2 a block back from the street), she strains to cross the street. Today, that was okay, but somedays there are cars coming and I have to really work to hold her back. I always wonder why Love prefers the other side. When we walk back towards the house, she is fine with being on "our side." Hmmm...

As we continued to walk, I watched Love stop and sniff at some things: really taking her time to check them out, while with others, they simply got a "quickie." Often she will stop in the same places as usual and spend time with them. Other times she will ignore those places all together and I wonder if there is a rhyme or reason to this.

As our walk progressed, so did the rain. And I began to enjoy it. Early morning, with my dog, fresh rain, cleaning out the old, bringing in the new. I like that for 20 minutes, I was able to get out of my own way and let Love have hers. I am grateful that I could focus on Love, our neighborhood, the weather. Where as in meditation when I drift off/spin out/ "think", I bring myself back to my breath, during our morning walks, I bring my attention back to Love. For just that time, I don't "worry" about what I have to do next or what just happened beforehand.

It's a good practice for me.

Buddha Energy + Shiny Object Syndrome and "Every Little Thing is Gonna be All Right"

2010-01-17T18:28:00.000-08:00

Feeling the neurosis side of Buddha energy...that paralysis that comes from overwhelm. All the while I have that Karma neurosis going...as in, starting one thing and then dropping it for another...dropping it for the something that looks or seems "more important" or "better."

Right now books are very much part of my "shiny object" obsession. I recently purchased a book called Brain Rules (by John Medina), after attending a workshop at the NSTA (National Science Teachers Association conference). One of the things Medina discusses is that multi-tasking is a myth. Though we can walk and talk at the same time, to truly give our attention - our awareness - to more than one thing truly isn't possible (he cites the study of talking on a cell phone while driving as an example of us humans not truly being able to multi-task).

One of the pieces I was actually looking at in Brain Rules was a chapter that included the idea of repetition as a means of learning. Just prior to his chapter on repetition, however, Medina points out research that suggests that emotional experiences stay with us memory-wise longer than simply intellectual ones. That it is the gist - the bigger picture - rather than the details that we store in our long-term memory.

Medina cites John Bransford who edited How People Learn, and says, "[Experts'] knowledge is not simply a list of facts and formulas that are relevant to their domain; instead, their knowledge is organized around core concepts or 'big ideas' that guide their thinking about their domains" (Medina, 2008, p. 85).

So that got me thinking about the emotional aspect of ritual - the connecting aspect, especially as it relates to community creation and interconnectedness. Something I'd like to explore (as well as how repetition of the ritual plays a role in term sof deeper connection, deeper learning: prajna).

But of course, then, I want to explore five million other things at the same time. Shocked?

The thing is: as much as I feel the paralysis of overwhelm, and as much as I know that I easily distract because I want to explore so many things, what I really know is that this is part of my process. The paralysis will lift, I will become more able to hone in and focus on what I need to, when I need to, and like Bob Marley once sang, "every little thing will be all right."

Thoughts on Saturday...oh, and what happened to Friday?

2010-01-16T18:53:00.000-08:00

Missed posting yesterday and have little to post today. Preparing for half-marathon walk tomorrow and need a day (especially since I was up early this A.M. in order to get downtown to the Expo to get my race number and t-shirt).

Though I need to focus on my thesis, I also need some down time.

Last night was a terrific springboard to this final semester. I spent the evening with Debbie at her house, swapping books, articles, thoughts and yummy food. We both agreed how fortunate we are to have one another so close by, to be able to share time and experiences (i.e. Shambhala training, book signings, and meals).

Last night Debbie introduced me to one of her inner methods - drawing exercises from a mandala book/CD. We worked with black paper and white pencils, going from light to dark. Though I actually took a little nap break (I was exhausted from my week), I relished the exercise. It was relaxing and meditative (photo of my drawing above). Best part: being invited to share in Debbie's practice with her. Her excitement was so lovely and joyous, and it gave me an opportunity to experience what is working for her.

At the end of the evening, we were going over the Thesis syllabus: Holy S***! I told her, "I have to go. I have to go home and work on my thesis!!" I left feeling exhilarated and anxious.

Tomorrow evening: the (Thesis) games (really) begin!

Season Tickets

2010-01-14T22:31:00.000-08:00

Though not truly a ritual (nor a habit or routine), my colleague, Lori, and I have season tickets to the Southwest Shakespeare Company.

Every month and a half or so we get the opportunity to meet up around five or five-thirty in the evening, have dinner together, and then go see a play - something that always seems like "there's no time to fit that in." Having season tickets makes us fit it in. And that's a good thing.

It's a change-up...something different. Lori and I don't spend time outside of school together otherwise, and this year we spend little time in the office together as I haven't got a planning period. So having dinner and talking "shop" as well as taling about things more personal is a really lovely way to connect. It also gives us a chance to engage in something other than work and school. It's something out of our daily routines and something we both enjoy.

Though the production of Julius Caesar we saw this evening pretty much bit the big one (we left at intermission - we were also both tired and intermission wasn't until 9:00 PM), it was still great to just get out of the daily routine.

I don't want to go so far as to deem going to a dinner and a show a ritual. But it is something Lori and I do special together. We do it according to when we have tickets. And it's always dinner (typically somewhere different each time) and then the theatre.

At any rate, I hadn't written yet today, and I'm too tired to explore anything else in depth, and not everyday am I going to be able to write about something profound and/or insightful. So this is it.

That's the ticket!

Ritual, Routine, Habit

2010-01-13T16:10:00.000-08:00

We often do things out of habit (see definition below).

We "get into the routine of things" and become so accustomed to our routines we often do them as if we were simply programmed to do so - like a coffee maker set to begin brewing before the morning wake up alarm.

But do these habits and routines have meaning? Do they help us connect to something or someone in the world? An idea? Does my habit of folding up my toilet paper into squares have some kind of meaning beyond the fact that I like my toilet paper in a neat square? Or that it gives my hands something to do while I'm taking a pee? I don't even realize I'm folding it half of the time. Does my routine drive to work have a particular meaning? Do brushing my teeth and showering (unless I am mindfully doing so - which, let's face it: I am not truly that mindful every morning) connect me to my teeth? My shower? To the water I use?

If I look at these in a mandala sort of way - yes: everything I do is connected. But in a mindful way? In a way in which I am ultimately aware? In ways that bring meaning to my life?

I don't think so.

However, ritual (which can become routine), is different. "Rituals are simple. They might be words. They might be actions. They point to something meaningful and significant"(Williams, p. 122). The mainstream definition(s) offered by freedictionary.com don't really explain ritual to it's fullest...they scratch the surface, making it sound much more similar to "routine" or even "habit."

Rituals can aid in creating a firm sense of group identity. Humans have used rituals to create social bonds and even to nourish interpersonal relationships (AbsoluteAstronomy.com © 2009. http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/topics/Ritual).

Here's an interesting observation. Yesterday, at the end of school before bowing out, I asked my students to express one thing that they were grateful for (I do this with them once a week to once every two weeks). Five of my students said that being in our classroom with their friends was what they were grateful for.

This morning, I was 20 minutes late to class (so was my co, Meghan, as we were in a meeting with our Headmaster and two parents). When I realized how late were were - five minutes into class - I was fortunate enough that when I stuck my head out of our Headmaster's office, one of my parents happened to be standing there and I asked if she could help Meghan and I by checking on our students and letting them know we'd be there as soon as possible.

When I arrived in my classroom, Jill was sitting up on one of the desks, two students were up in front of the room in the middle of a "Freeze" scene (an improv game - we have drama first period), and the rest of the class was actively engaged as audience members. I stood inside at the door just watching.

I let the students continue on for fifteen more minutes. First, because they were so engaged, and secondly, because I was awed by how much more skilled they have become at the game over the past few months. They were thoughtful, quick on their feet, and hilarious! When I finally did stop them, I told them how pleased I was to see them in right action and joked that they didn't even need me around at all.

They proceeded to tell me that Clare (this week's peer leader) led them in our opening bow, they'd taken attendance (which we do by me calling off the first person's name on the roll sheet, and then they call off the next and so on - so in that way, everyone is aware of who is here and who is not, and everyone is accountable for everyone else), and Clare had rung the mindfulness bell to kick off Drama. and Jamie (another student) had led physical and vocal warm-ups. Jill (the parent) just nodded and smiled at me. And then I said to my class, "You really don't need me!" And I felt quite proud and thrilled.

I emailed Jill this afternoon to thank her for her help. When she emailed me back she noted, I was so impressed at how [the students] stayed on task even though you weren't there-it shows the maturity of your students (email, 1/13/10)!

My students wanted to practice our daily rituals. Regardless if I was there or not, they have something that connects them - something that bonds them together. Our rituals have some kind of meaning for them. Even if it is just "routine" for some of them, it's what we do. It's what makes us members of Room 503. The rituals offer a sense of belonging. And so maybe there is a responsibility factor in carrying them out that goes with that.

Whew! Okay. I'm going to leave this for now and come back to it and see what I glean from it then.

All I Nose...

2010-01-12T19:32:00.000-08:00

...is that I've got a really bad cold, and if it weren't for the fact that sub-plans take way too long to write - and that I had too much new stuff to introduce today - I would have taken the day off from work.

Because not walking the dog is not an option, and sleeping in today was a necessity, I opted to for go my personal journal writing and morning reading and meditation. I am irked that I missed my meditation because my track record has been so good and I know that it really is a touchstone for my day. But something had to give.

Got a Facebook tip from Missy: The Soul of Education (Rachel Kessler) has a section on initiation. Funny that I'd found something else in the Kessler book that I had looked at and for some reason neglected to see the chapter on initiation. Thank God other people's awareness is up when mine's not.

Letting everything else go for the day now. I feel like crap. As Scarlett O'Hara said, "Tomorrow is another day."

And so it is...

Contemplating: Habit & Ritual

2010-01-11T13:07:00.000-08:00

Joan commented on my Saturday post:
Nicky, what's the difference between a personal ritual and a habit? or is there one? could seeing a habit (good or bad) as a ritual of one's choosing help in creating/maintaining healthy ones and ridding oneself of unhealthy ones? I wonder!

These are great questions. I hadn't thought about this before - the differences and/or similarities between habit and ritual - and I'm grateful Joan brought it up (thanks, Joan). I haven't had much time to really sit down and think about it but my students are off working independently on some Social Studies questions, so I took a moment to look up what The Free Dictionary defined as habit:

n.
1.
a. A recurrent, often unconscious pattern of behavior that is acquired through frequent repetition.
b. An established disposition of the mind or character.
2. Customary manner or practice: a person of ascetic habits.
3. An addiction, especially to a narcotic drug.

Just noting the first definition, I would have to say the difference between habit and ritual is awareness and meaning. A habit may not necessarily have either - i.e. nail biting. I have so much more to contemplate with this and want to take more time to explore all of Joan's questions but I had a moment and wanted to get just a quick jot down.

Back to School

2010-01-11T05:16:00.000-08:00

Just a quickie...

Thesis Seminar II begins today. I just got online to check what we have in store this week. This is a short week. Mostly getting reaquainted and organized. I downloaded the syllabus and will print that and Genet's introduction out at work.

Genet's introduction was wonderful: warm and full of excitement...tempered by the reality of it all and what we really need to do to stay on top of everything. I am feeling a bit of anxiety. My stomach is turning around and around like a bunch of ensos got thrown into a washing machine: five colored circles churning around cacophonously (is that a word/) in my belly.

Anyway...good reminders from Genet with regards to how we are going to feel/think/behave throughout the process and how our "job" is to find some balance with them...

Throughout this process, you will find the middle way between these extremes:
• being too self-reliant versus too dependent;
• being arrogant versus being helpless;
• being excessively compulsive versus unduly lazy.

Hmmm...she must've gone through this before! ; )

The Question of Imposed or Chosen Rituals...

2010-01-10T05:54:00.000-08:00

...just came to mind as I was up walking my poor dog at freakin' 6:15 AM - she has some kind of stomach bug. I was completely annoyed with her because she woke me up three times to go out in the middle of the night! I went to bed late and planned to be up by 7:00 to get to a friends by 8:00 to walk 11 freakin' miles as a training walk for next week's half marathon. I am tired! But when I realized this fourth time my pup wasn't feeling well...I felt pretty bad.

Nonetheless, it is in the moments I don't think I can possibly think about anything when thoughts come to me. And while I was walking Love, I started thinking about the narrative evaluations we just had to write over the winter break on our students.

While this is an "imposed" ritual - it is part of my job, one of the things that is part of what we do at Tempe Prep at this time of year, every year - it is also a vehicle for connection. It is a formal way of writing down what I observe about each of my students, and therefore, as I dwell, ruminate, and try to find ways to best describe what I "see" and have experienced, I am making a deeper connection with myself and the student. I am contemplating and then communicating in a very thoughtful way what I believe to be true about each student I teach.

This narrative then is read by the student's parent(s) and often by the student. For the most part, I don't get much feedback from parents. However, once in awhile I do. When the narrative points out a student's difficulties, sometimes I hear back from an irrate parent who feels that their child was treated unfairly, or from a parent who is extremely concerned about what to do. If the evaluation is mostly positive, it is rare I hear back at all, though sometimes I get a "thank you" - and don't get me wrong: sometimes I get a "thank you" on a not-so-hot evaluation (it just depends on the parent). But the thanks or the worry or the anger aren't the point. The point is that a connection has been made. And hopefully, the parent(s) and their student will have a conversation about the evaluation and another connection will be made in that way too.

An email from a parent to my co-teacher and I:

Ladies!

My husband and I just had an opportunity to read your thoughtful and perceptive comments about [Student].

Boy, do you guys have her pegged.

[Student] has always done well in school...but never before has she LOVED school like she does now. Even Math! I can not begin to tell you how blessed we feel that: #1. She got into TPA, and #2. That she has you both as her teachers.

Nicky, if she could overcome her fear of failing, or looking silly, (which does, I agree, come from a fierce streak of perfectionism), I know she would be a much happier kid. Opinionated...refusing to look at things from another's perspective...if we could nip that in the bud, her family would not be exhausted from arguing with her about every little thing!:-) Of course, she won't hear it from us.

We thank you for all that you both do to motivate and encourage her. You are the best!

I wouldn't choose to write a narrative on my break. But I get whay it's important to write them. I appreciate the ritual of it.

Then I started thinking, I choose the rituals I perform prior to going to work every day: journaling, meditating, taking what I've deemed an "awareness walk" with my dog. I also choose the rituals that go on in my classroom - our opening/closing bow, tea parties that culminate books we've read in Language Arts, vocal and physical warm-ups in Drama....etc. However, while I choose them, these rituals are imposed on my students. My students don't get a choice in most of the rituals they are asked to participate in. Yet they seem to learn from them and make connections with themselves, their peers, me, our classroom work, and to the greater world at large.

So what can I glean from this question? I hadn't thought about it before this morning. I imagine I will be exploring this one a bit more. Just wanted to make sure I got this down before I go on that crazy walk and then come home and crawl back into bed.

New Beginnings...

2010-01-09T13:55:00.000-08:00

...are awfully (as in awful) wonderful (to me). They invoke feelings of terror and dread, often presenting themselves in the form or paralysis and/or procrastination (see prior entry). They also elicit feelings of joyful anticipation, giddy excitement often supported by inner-super hero powers (meaning, I picture myself wearing my own personal Wonder Woman get-up and wielding a don't-mess-with-me rope) knowing I can handle anything that comes my way: "World, watch out - here I come!"

I have put off writing an entry for two days, and I can not put it off any longer. I have committed myself to completing this M.A. program, and the only way to do that is to write my thesis. One of the things that I know will serve me best in this process is writing...journaling - my thoughts, feelings, ideas, and experiences. While my original thought was to do it on paper - particularly because it so tactile, so authentic, I realized that I needed to formally commit to this practice and hold myself accountable. I figured if I "published" this, knowing one or two or even three people may read it as I navigate my way through this journey, it will keep me accountable to posting daily. I also had a great "aha" about writing in blog form: I can cut and paste what I wrote, if I want to use it in my thesis (good idea, no?!).

Interestingly, as I am beginning the thesis process, a new year has begun for all of us, and that also means a new semester at school for both myself and my students. Monday (January 4) was our first day back and while I spent most of the week pulling magic out of my butt (I didn't have much time to prep over break because I was working on long, narrative student evaluations for the last five days of my vacation), the atmosphere of my classroom and the things that were happening in there were...well, magical!

One of the coolest things for me, happened in the first few moments of our very first day back. Every morning at the beginning of the day and each afternoon before we leave school, my students and I bow to one another. We have done this since day one of the school year. We do it as a mindfulness practice, reminding ourselves to respect ourselves, one another, our classroom space, and the work we do in it. On Monday, there was a buzz of excitement in the air, and my students all seemed happy to be back at school and with one another. When the time came to take our opening bow, the room feel completely silent as everyone prepared to place their hands on their upper thighs. We bowed, and when we came back up almost every single person in the room - including me - was smiling. We were together again. We were a community.

During our Drama class, first period (and third, with my other section of 6th graders), we "kissed" 2009 goodbye. I explained to the class what it meant to "kiss something goodbye," and quoted the words from A Chorus Line: "Kiss today goodbye, and point me toward tomorrow." I gave each student a Hershey's Kiss, and encouraged each of them to make a quasi-lay-up with it - throwing it into a wastebasket as they said the words, "I kiss goodbye to _______" whatever it was they wanted to leave behind from last year (for those that couldn't think of anything, I asked that they simply say,"Goodbye to 2009"). One of my students journaled, "It was really nice to yell off what we wanted to say goodbye to and get it off our chest."

In Language Arts, I passed out the January Monthly (I give the students hand-outs at the beginning of every month that explains the origins of the month, its gemstone, its flower, how many days it has, and the holidays and special observance days of the month. Sometimes we incorporate what's on the "Monthly," sometimes we don't). January was named after the Roman god, Janus, god of doorways and new beginnings. Janus is most often depicted with two faces: one looking into the past, the other towards the future.

As a segue into the new semester, I had the students work in pairs to create two Janus-like pictures. Each student was given a piece of drawing paper and asked to fold it in half width-wise. Next the students were instructed to pencil-sketch a profile of a face looking towards the past, starting from the fold in the paper. They then had to exchange their paper with another student, without showing them what they had drawn (so they handed the paper to another student with the blank side up). Upon receiving the blank-sided paper, the students were then asked to pencil-sketch a profile looking towards the future. Two more exchanges were made so that each student could add to their picture(s) with color and detail. Then each student brought their original picture home and was asked to complete both sides as homework. They were encouraged to add more color, detail, and to even add items that would make the picture 3-dimensional.

One student wrote about the experience with the Janus pictures from this perspective: "I had a great time doing this because the picture represented a person's expression when they looked into the past: sad, wistful, or angry, and when they looked into the future: happy, excited, or elated. This picture reminded me of what we talked about on New Year's Eve. My parents had invited our friend (their friend as well) to talk to everyone at our party about what we should look forward to and back on this new year. He said we should look back on the sins or mistakes we made in the past year and ask God to help us not make the same mistakes over again this year. Our friend also told us that even though we think that we can conceal our sins from others, God knows and He wants us to confess our sins to Him so that we can start a new beginning."

Uh...wow.

I allotted some extra time at the end of our first day back to toast the New Year. I brought in sparkling grape juice and party blowers. Each student was given a cup of juice and blower, and asked to get quiet for a moment and think about an aspiration they would like to make for themselves in this new semester. We then raised our glasses in a toast, yelled out our aspirations at the same time, and drank our juice and blew our horns. From another student journal: "I really enjoyed the first day (kissing 2009 goodbye and saying hello to 2010) because I made a goal to get awesome grades. It helps when I'm doing homework and I'm tired and I wanna go to bed to think of my goal for 2010."

We completed our day, with a bow, and our daily chant: tapping the palms of our hands on our desks twice, and saying: "And so it is," meaning: we have done all we can do today. What's done is done. Tomorrow we will start anew. As the students leave the classroom I call off to them, "Go make the world a better place." On Monday, it felt like we already had.

This last week I also had my students "wrap up 2009" by symbolically wrapping up their journals from last semester in wrapping paper. I will put them away and return them to the students at the end of the school year. I remember when I did that last year what fun it was for my kids to re-read their reflections from the first semester and note their own growth throughout the second.

Like my own feelings about beginnings (as mentioned above), Janus is, and of himself, a paradox: the past and the future all in one. Because we are beginning our unit on ancient Greece next Monday, I gave the students a list of Greek root words to keep in their binder for reference and I gave them their first vocabulary word of the semester: paradox. Besides looking up the word in the dictionary, and then writing the definition down in their own words (as we always do), I also asked them to research paradoxes and to bring in three examples. The students really seemed to enjoy this and we spent some time working through what the differences are between paradoxes and oxymorons and play on words.

At any rate, the word paradox seemed appropriate for me. A good reminder of how there are so many sides to everything. That life isn't black and white. I'm not. My students aren't. And neither is my thesis or the process of writing it.

Is Procrastination a Ritual?

2010-01-07T22:58:00.000-08:00

I am not sure. I am waiting to find out.