Giving all of anything is Quite a commitment Particularly when There is no way Of knowing what Time will be required All of me All of my love All of my time All of my days Whether part of a Cross-my-heart promise Or the title of A favorite song Life does not tell us How many days remain A definitive number Is found only in The days passed Never to return So, I settle on today This hour, this moment Right this second That is all there is And I must choose To give all or nothing
On the inside
I am still a child
Finding her way in this
Asking the same
Where do I belong?
What is my purpose?
What happens next?
On the outside
Rumbling rolls of thunder
The rhythm of the rain-
Right where you are
Exactly what you’re doing
One day at a time
That blanket the
Cares of adulthood
In warm affection
Clouds become smiles
Rain-an arm around a shoulder
I suppose that child
Will always be there
Some days filled
Other days listening
For answers that
Continually fill with
Only one purpose-
To be spilled right
Back out again
We are in our fourth week of school-during a pandemic, attempting to social distance, everyone wearing masks, etc. School, unlike anything we have experienced before.
Today, during my fifth-grade class, I had this sudden urge to see their faces. At the end of music class, I reminded them about the importance of wearing masks. Then I told them I missed seeing their faces, and we would be taking a quick mask break.
I explained that we would take our masks off, then I would count down from five to zero, and we would put them back on.
Those five seconds felt like walking out into the sunshine. Smiles everywhere! Then I heard a student shout, “Mrs. Morris!” As if he had just recognized me!
As we put our masks back on, I started to tear up. “You look like you’re about to cry,” another student said. “I am,” I admitted. “And now my glasses are fogging up! How am I supposed to read you guys a book?”
We all laughed. I choked back my tears and made it through a few pages before it was time to go.
Wow! Four weeks in and today, it feels like we saw each other for the first time. I had forgotten the power of a smile. And multiplied by twenty, well, there is nothing quite like it.
This one, spur-of-the-minute decision changed the trajectory of my whole day. Yes, the masks were still there. But for a few seconds in each class, I saw sweet faces. And those sweet faces have no idea how much they helped this struggling teacher. ❤
Although I prefer to spend time in the mountains, the ocean also fascinates me. Waves come in many forms, each with its own purpose and level of intensity. We can learn so much just from observing.
Sometimes the waves are gentle, barely lapping at the sand on the beach. With little force, this wave flows over my feet, body unwavering. Sometimes the swells are playful. Just strong enough to cause the body to sway back and forth.
Other times, the waves are fierce. Swells so high, they knock over everything in their path. No point in resisting. An impossible fight.
Life feels that way sometimes.
Maybe it is a wave of emotions brought on by exhaustion. The kind of tired that knocks me off my feet. Such was the case last Friday. After finishing the third week of school, I had nothing left. I felt like waves were overtaking me. No choice but to give in to the tears already flowing, and then sleep.
Saturday morning was different. The storm had passed. Moments to relax and enjoy my morning cup of coffee were like gentle waves ushering in the day. Later, there was time for reflection to reveal the positives from the previous week.
Both waves were necessary. Sometimes rest does not come until I stop fighting and give in. Only then will I experience peaceful, renewing rest. The kind of rest that prepares me for whatever is in store.
Here’s to a new week! And all the waves it may bring-fierce, fun, or gentle.
Not out loud-
Like a baby
With heavy eyes
Unable to give
Up the fight
Unable to accept
The balance of
Strength and calm
If only the
Giving in for
A few brief
If only the
And settle into
The strong arms
Simply holding her
Tight enough to
If only I
And rest in
Weight of trust
Given to limits
Wished away in
A rush to meet
Until years later
When the reality
Of limits became
Life and death
Each new loss
To the past
Each new life
A hope for
In limited supply
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I’ve looked around enough to know
That you’re the one I want to go
Through time with
Social distancing guidelines do not allow for hugs in most situations. And compared to my typical teacher hug routine, I would guess I’m about 90% successful at school. Although honestly, it feels more like missed opportunities than successes.
One day last week, there was an opportunity I’m glad I did not miss.
Music class is supposed to be fun and engaging. At least, that is my plan. And when I cannot seem to get a student interested, engaged, connecting-it is frustrating. Last week I had one of those kiddos.
In our first class together, there was constant disruption. This student showed no desire to participate. No matter what I tried, he was determined to get out of the room.
The next time I came to this class, something was different. I have no idea what had happened before my arrival, but my friend was sitting there ready for music.
Now, several reminders and redirections were needed, but there was also participation! And he made it through the entire lesson. Even though it was a small step, I counted it a success.
Later in the day, I walked past the same class heading out to recess. I caught the eye of my friend. “You did a great job in music today. I am really proud of you,” I said. He stepped out of line and sheepishly reached one arm out to give me a hug. His reach was hesitant, his eyes looking down.
Needless to say, social distancing guidelines flew right out the window.
This was a big step, and a hug I could not refuse. ❤
This Labor Day weekend, I am looking forward to an extra day of rest following the two first weeks of school. I need to relax and take care of myself. Part of that care includes time with family.
That is one of my first thoughts when it comes to holidays-who is coming and who is going.
This time, Gart and I are staying put. Though not always the case, a welcomed choice this weekend. Even after our recent extended time here, we need to be home. Sleep in our own bed, sit outside in our own backyard…welcoming the ones who are coming.
On this Saturday morning, the house is quiet. Our youngest, the last one at home, is at a friend’s. Our daughter, who recently moved out, is traveling. Our oldest and his wife will be here this afternoon.
Witnessing my kids at this age causes me to reflect on my own younger days. Days when I was the one always coming and going. Days when my Mom and Dad were the ones staying put.
It’s a funny thing, seeing myself through my parents’ eyes. Waiting patiently to hear about a friend, that recent trip, or to actually be together in person.
These are the moments that remind of the beauty of life-moments of growth and understanding. Realizing what a privilege it is to be the one staying put. To be the one watching and waiting, experiencing all the comings and goings from my front door.
Last school year, I had a sweet group of fourth-graders. They liked to call me “Grandma.” I did not mind it one bit. It was funny and endearing. And it allowed for connections that otherwise might not have happened. The Grandma Connection
Fast forward to this new school year. Those sweet friends are all scattered. Some opting for virtual. Others no longer in my music class. I imagine some have also moved. But there’s one I still get to see.
This particular friend, now a big fifth-grader, has been a little withdrawn these first two weeks of school. I haven’t had much luck getting him to participate in music. But sometimes it takes time to get back in the routine of school, so I hadn’t given it much thought.
Today forced the issue. When I entered the classroom, my friend was sitting at the back, head down, hood on. And when other classmates were getting out laptops for an activity, he didn’t budge. I tried getting him to go, but he was not moving.
Once the other students were logged in and exploring their music activities, I made my way to the back of the room.
Me: Remember what you called me last year?
Student: Shakes head no.
Me: Yes, you do. You called me Grandma.
Student: Shakes head.
Me: That means you can always talk to me. Ok?
Student: Shakes head again.
Me: (Patting his head) Love you, Bud.
I was sitting in my room eating lunch a few hours later when this friend showed up at the door. Carrying his lunch tray, hood off, smiling behind that face mask. He walked over and gave me a hug, assuring me that he was ok.
What a relief! Many moments tested my patience today. And some of my reactions could have been better. I am thankful that this one, at least, worked its way to a positive.
I guess this means Grandma’s back! 😉
I seem to need the same reminder over and over these days. My husband would agree. 😉 What reminder? Stop worrying about things that are out of your control. Focus on what is in front of you today.
Sounds easy enough. And yet, I continue to struggle. I am beginning to recognize it more quickly, so I suppose that is progress. Or maybe, it is just part of life. Either way, here is a little reminder for me. And anyone else who might need one. ❤
A stiff neck
It travels on
To the heart
On my face-
The solution is
Also within me
A cleansing breath
In and out
A full circle