findING a place

Today is one of those days for me. A dark day.

It is one of those days for no particular reason at all, and for every reason in the world.

It has been a gray, rainy, lonely, ragged, tired, heavy, tried-to-pull-myself-up-but couldn't, kind of day.

It is days like this that I must write. Sometimes without really having anything to actually say, but I must say something.

I need someway to move forward. Something concrete to look at. Words. Maybe they aren't really concrete. But they are the something that I need right now.

Words are the something that I need to write or read or hear or speak.

I am an emotional person. I've finally, after many years, embraced this about myself. All of the joy, anger, grief, quietness, anxiety, "blah-ness", empathy, and any other emotion you could possibly think of need some place to go, and today they go here.

They become words.

People need words. It is our words that inspire and move and change us. Words can break us into a thousand bits. The absence of words can do the same. And sometimes that's just it I've noticed. The absence of words can break us to bits. The absence of words can destroy us.

I often wonder why I blog or why does anybody else for that matter, and that's just it. I do it for words. Mine and others.

We need each other. We need words. And although, I will always, always,  value the real life words, of a real life person--flesh and bone and heart and beauty--sitting across from you with the weight of the world or the joy and wonder of it within them, so much more. Somehow, I think we, or at least I, need this. This space. This very odd, public space to give and receive the wonder of words.

So, as I make it through this dark day, that is here for no reason in particular and for every reason in the world, I at least have the quietness, and steadiness of words to see me through.

Thank you for being a part of it.

movING on...

It is this time of year,
that the tall and golden sun flowers bow their great heads, to mourn the end of summer.

quietly and carefully the garden has been turned under in a kind of closing ceremony,
like the fresh and sacred ground of a tomb.

Preparing the soft and giving earth to wait out another winter.

The sweat and wonder of summer has long since left, and we wait.

We wait in the fiery, golden, light of autumn, set against it's lengthened shadows,

deep and mysterious.

We wait in its damp morning fog

Or its gray drizzling mornings.

Our hearts grow in heaviness and awe at the sight of the first frost, cold and unforgiving
and lovely.

The geese call out, harsh and metallic, a warning
and a wanting.

Different days are coming.

It is this time of year, that we celebrate and grieve. We let go, and hold on, and we wait, and remember, the days that are to come.

Student teachING so far.....

So far I am learning reality. I am learning that all the grand things I dreamed of in my class room are a thousand times harder to achieve than I ever dreamed.

I am learning to trust myself. It is easy when you are new (and when you aren't really on the payroll) to second guess yourself. To think that there must be someone else who knows better. Maybe some days they do. Maybe some days they don't. The only way to know is to move forward. I got into this business because I believe I have something to give, and I do.

I am learning to trust my students. They are smart and wonderful and creative when I get out of the way and let them be.

I am learning to not be afraid of my students. 14 year olds, especially in great numbers, are the most formidable group I have yet to cross paths with. And just as creative and smart and wonderful as they can be, they will, to their own demise, try not to be some days. It is my job to accept nothing, absolutely nothing, but their best.

I am learning to let it go. Some days don't go as planned. It doesn't feel okay, but it is. Some plans that I thought would be wonderful--aren't. This is okay to.

I am learning to still, like always, hold on to my idealism with all of my soul. The world will always want to strip us of this. I can't let it. I can't let it take idealism from me or the 110 faces I see everyday for just 50 minutes. I must hold on for dear life...because that's what it is.

I feel I'm doing much more learning than teaching these days. I hope that this is always always so.

havING too much of a good thing...???

This is how life feels right now. Like maybe everything is too good, too wonderful, too strong, and vibrant and alive. The worrying side of me wants to wonder when the bottom will drop out, but surprisingly and wonderfully, that side of me is not winning.

Life is not perfect right now, not even at all but its good. So so good. (Did I mention life is good?)...

I am coming off of a wonderful summer filled with spinning (I bought a wheel!....more on that later), baking, growing tomatoes and what seems like a million other green and lovely summer things, spending time with my wonderful grandma, sweet red wine, fires in the back yard....Just goodness all over.

This week I started my student teaching, well unofficially. My official Kent assigned day is September 4th, but I have a fabulous cooperating teacher who has welcomed me into her room. I've spent the last few days at staff meetings, getting the room ready etc. I've been so impressed with how positive the staff there has been. Its been a refreshing and terrific change in comparison to some schools I've been in through out my experiences. Tomorrow the kids show up, and the real (but good, so so good....like everything else) work begins. I can't wait. I am surprisingly unnervous (yep, I made that word up) and I'm completely excited.

I've started running again, and for the first time in 5 yeas (5!) it doesn't hurt my back. There is lots of walking and panting involved, but lots of smiles too.

So life for now, seems like its too much of a good thing, but its not too much and I love it.  Smiles all around and happy Tuesday everyone!

savING grace

When I needed it most...we went to a good friend's wedding out of town. We laughed, and danced, and celebrated with them. It was a thousand degrees out and we drove 13 hours to get there, but I couldn't have cared less. My heart was so full of joy for them and for all the wonderful people there celebrating with them, that I cried like a total idiot during the toast, because I tried to hold it all in during the ceremony. Nobody cries like that during toasts. Especially ones they aren't even giving. But to be honest, I love that being with people can make my heart feel so so big, it just has to spill over in wonderful, lovely, seemingly endless, tears of shear joy.

When I needed it most, we found friends that we can stay up with and watch a fire dance in the night while our laughter danced right along with it.  Even on week nights, when we should all be in bed like responsible adults. Discovering that we have so much more in common than we thought. "Oh, you stay up at night every now again wondering if you're becoming a serial killer or some other terrible illogical thing but just don't know it yet? Me too!! It must be totally normal".... Even if its just one other person, its nice to find someone whose you're exact kind of crazy.

When I needed it most, we found friends that listened. And rather than give more empty advice, we all just prayed. I say "just", like its no big deal, but really, nothing (absolutely nothing) could have been more freeing.

When I needed it most, good friends, the life long kind, came to visit. Coming from all corners of the globe to laugh and laugh and laugh (okay and maybe eat). To stay up late, talking about life and laughing more. And getting up and drinking coffee (and eating) and talking and laughing still more until we think we could burst (from the laughing that is....er...)

When I needed it most, all the little things in life, that really aren't so little, came crashing down around us in one beautiful mess. Life has seemed so good, I just can't believe this life is really mine. And all when I needed it most.

"Every good and perfect gives comes from above..." James

lettING go...

You start out knitting for yourself.

From the needles comes a scarf,
a hat
someday a sweater.

From your own hands , and the clacking of metal on metal comes warmth to get you through a thousand winters.

It's independence , self sufficiency.
You can stand alone.

Then you discover it.
The joy of knitting for another.

With skill and time
comes a gift.
Something to ease grief, or welcome one into the world,
Something that celebrates or mourns or both.
Something to soften and warm and brighten,
in those long winter months ahead.

Each stitch, a prayer.
The wool moving through your fingers like beads of the rosary.

Holy and sacred. Giving life and goodness.

You started out alone,

and you needed to. Learning to stand on you're own is all a part of it.

But the next part, is watching something you created, something you labored over, something you touched and admired
move from your hands,
into those of another.

becomING one of "those" people....

Over the past few months, I've become one of "those" people.  You know, the coffee snobs, one of those people who requires extra time and equipment just for a cup of coffee.

Careful, it's a slippery slope. It could happen to you.

It started with an inordinate amount of mugs I had collected over the years....

Then, I became a brand snob. My coffee requirements had surpassed anything that Foldger's or Maxwell House could provide...

Then, my sister got me a french press for my birthday (note, the unused coffee pot in the background)....

Then, I got syrups. Yes syrups...it's pathetic...

Next came the milk frother...because unfrothed milk certainly won't due....

As you can see, it's developed into quite the process and quite the mess. I find myself getting up a whole ten minutes earlier (a major accomplishment for me) just for a cup of coffee.

It's all pretty out of hand....but totally worth it. :)

Happy Friday everyone! I hope that you are enjoying whatever your guilty pleasure is today as well!