Teaching

Mr. Chips, The Dead Poet Society, Knights Of The South Bronx, and other movies made about great teachers seem more like fables than reality to most of us.  I really never had a teacher who reached out to me and inspired me the way they did their students while I was young, but I know they exist.

My father was one of those men and my friend is one now, teachers who go the extra mile to take the hands of those students ready to shine and pull them along:

Teachers who reach out to their students, not just in class, but at extracurricular activities, on field trips, in small gatherings that nurture the interests of people who are still young enough to be idealistic.

Teachers who stand up for their students no matter how many times they are rebuffed by the administration, or society, or those people who think an education is only about testing and grades and making money.

Teachers who see human beings, bright young minds, and great possibilities,  and are willing to demonstrate the tenacity it takes to bring all these things into fruition are the beacons all teachers should aim for, because teaching is not just a job -- it's a vocation.

Moral turpetude

Over reacting seems to be the norm now.

Any lack of discretion, any variation on perfection is no longer just not tolerated, it is seized and held up to the world for ridicule while demands for not just restitution, but retribution are made.

I do believe that we should be held accountable for our actions, but I find this to be a frightening trend.

It goes beyond common sense and begins to look like the witch hunts of the past when innocent people were tortured and hung, or burned to assuage the discontent of a people.

As corruption reaches higher and higher levels, as terrorists become more and more outrageous,  I think we are striking out in exaggerated moral outrage because we feel so helpless to make changes where they are needed.

Over reacting has never served anyone well.

To know me

Tonight I look at myself.

Not in a mirror, or even in the reflection in my window, but in the space I take up, in the thoughts I think, the curiosity that drives me, the imagination that fuels me, the anger that pulls me down and the joy the allows me to expand.

I see a me as distinct as any great canvas painted by any master in the world. This body I live in is only a tool to help me learn the great lessons that must then supersede it.

The arms that want to hug and hold are my first baby steps to loving.

The need to be loved is only a precursor to knowing how to love because that is the real LOVE.  The freedom to embrace what is without wanting to own it or alter it, but simply to adore it -- is a difficult concept.

Tonight I have a moment of eternity in a breath that sets me free long enough to appreciate how incomprehensible this thing called life is.

A glimpse of something so immense, so awe filled, so perfectly imperfect that I don't even have the words to describe it.

Tonight I am so much more than blood pressure and sugar and muscle and bone and this is a part of me I want to know better.

There's no place like home

The best laid plans . . .
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My sister came to pick up my desk and chair for her grandson, but the desk would not fit in her car, so we put it in my little Honda Fit and headed back to Decatur.

I had been worried about her getting home, but the roads and weather were perfect.  Not a flake of snow, or drop of water marred the drive.

It was an uneventful trip, ending in dinner and conversation and eventually in us unloading everything at her house before I set off for home.

I was returning to my home when I noticed the roads looked like they had been dusted in flour, but traffic was moving right along.

Then, at the first stoplight in Bloomington, I hit my brakes and began a long frightening skid.  I barely stopped in time, so I was a little more cautious after that.

But the weather wasn't through with me yet.  The windshield was spotted with miniscule drops of moisture that slowly became freezing rain and the really fun part of my journey home began.

It took me twenty five minutes to slide across Bloomington, into Normal and finally home.  It was a sheet of ice!

There is no place like home -- on a cold wintery night.

Just a little bit lighter

It seems I am down sizing again.

Just when everyone thought I had reached the minimum in possessions, it turns out there was more to go.

My sister is coming to pick up my desk and chair tomorrow.  Her grandson can use it and that makes me really happy.  She's also taking some clothes back for my ex-sister-in-law and some treats I bought for my grandchildren that we didn't eat. 

So. . . the cabinets are a little lighter, the closet a little roomier and the apartment much nicer to move around in.

It doesn't mean I have become a monk.  I have replaced the treats with fruits and yummy vegetables. I will eventually buy more clothes when I lose more weight and I have my eye open for an interesting lap desk.

So. . . it is only downsizing for a while -- like always.

It's kind of like getting a haircut.  I know it will grow back, but it's just a little bit lighter and that feels so good.

Creative therapy

I am often amazed at the ways ideas come to me.  My creativity is almost like a separate part of me.  It pops up when I least expect it and in ways I don't seem to have a lot of control over.  Either it's there, or it's not.

Of course it's not always good ideas that pop into my head.  I remember long ago when my husband called home and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was rearranging the cabinets.  He had no idea I was taking them off the walls and putting them back in new places, but the end result actually worked!

Today I dozed off and when I woke up I had an idea for a better way to arrange my apartment.  Now the whole thing is only 475 square feet and about a third of that is the kitchen.  I have rearranged it several times in the ten months I've lived here, but this was a brand new way.  So far I really like it.

I am hoping my creativity will reach back into the realm of writing again.  It would be a bit easier on my body if I were moving words around instead of furniture!

Somehow rearranging things makes me feel better.

My hero

Today was my father's birthday.  He would have been 88 years old, although he left this world nearly fifteen years ago.

Probably the most influential person in my entire life, my father was my hero.

The child of the little big man and a southern lady he was barely sixteen when he went to Washington University. He thought he wanted to be a doctor, but the idea of holding the lives of people in his own hands was daunting and he soon became an English major with minors in chemistry and math.

Once proclaimed the most intelligent man the Illinois Superintendent of Education had ever met, to me he was Dad.

Dad, that person who took all the time it needed to set me on the right path in school or life.  Dad, the little boy who wanted to play a violin and was forbidden to do so because he couldn't play baseball and who made sure I played any instrument I wanted. Dad, that man who spoke before hundreds of people all the time, but was basically very shy.

He drove us crazy with his unrelenting zeal for researching things he didn't know.  He drove my mother crazy with the chemicals in the basement that we used to make volcanoes and cleaning fluid and nail polish remover and other less desirable things.

He was a great and beloved teacher whose students and their parents came to his funeral eons after he helped them in a small Midwestern high school.

Sensitive and idealistic, an eternal student and born teacher,  he was the model I wanted to base my own life on and I miss him.

The labyrinth of life

Today is a day for contemplation and healing.

Steaming every hour.  Warm Tea.  Quiet thoughts.

Hoping to recuperate from what I think is a bad reaction to a prescription that crept up slowly so I used it a long time.

I've only been off of it for two days, so it may take a while, but my doctor wants to see me Monday if things don't improve.

I think they're improving.

In a more positive light, I moved my bird feeder and the birds finally discovered it after nearly a month! That's a long time in this Siberian climate where I know food must be scarce.

It's not scarce in here though and I struggle not to overeat.

Such simple basic things, but that seems to be the mainstay of life as I grow older.  If I want to continue on this earthly plain I need to find the healthy path.

Relationships

I think the unfortunate thing many women forget, especially after a divorce from someone they thought they were married to for life, is that what they want is important.

I hear them say, "Guys want this or that" and I wonder if they realize that if they are not what a "guy" wants, then he is not the guy for them.  Trying to be someone you are not is generally not sustainable.

I think one of the reasons marriages often falter during the seventh year, if not before, is that you quit playing a part.

Any human being worth his or her salt has to honor their own inner worth to feel good, so if that true self must be covered up, or sublimated, gussied up, or hidden, that person will feel bad.

And bad feelings eventually spread out and take over.

It's understandable to hear young girls look at guys and say, "Ooh, he's hot!  I'm gonna get him!"

Someone ready to become part of a couple -- a long lasting relationship -- needs to think, "I wonder what he's like on the inside?"

Then she needs to look inside herself.

I can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat their mother or father, by the way they respect others, by the way they do their work, and whether or not they are trustworthy.  If any of those things are questionable then they are not ready for a committed relationship.

And that goes both ways. 

It's okay to want to please the other person and make them happy, but the foundation for the entire relationship is based on mutual respect and trust.  Without that you don't have a prayer.

Gratitude

Chalk up another one for my doctor who called me on the phone herself today!

She may not be a miracle worker, but she doesn't pretend to be god either. 

I have faith in her ability to listen to what I am saying and to care enough to respond in person.  That is rare anymore.

She makes it possible for me to tell her exactly what is going on without fear that she will over react or jump to conclusions.

I am grateful to have found such a wonderful doctor.

Hope

I am feeling very unwise tonight.

My heart is full,  but:

My voice is hoarse.

My ears are ringing.

I am hearing through an echo chamber.

My right ankle feels sprained.

My left big toe cannot stand any pressure on it.

And my wonderful life is hard to enjoy.

I keep telling myself, "this too will pass."

I hope I'm right.

Best wishes

I am feeling the need to write something inspiring, or memorable tonight.

So of course I cannot think of any way to do that.

It seems that the really important moments in life often defy being pinned down.

Real feelings start at point A and branch out in an infinitesimal number of directions.

I am scared, angry, worried, grateful, nostalgic, curious, loving.  All these amazingly strong feelings flow through me and all I can do is let them.

I have no control over what occurs tomorrow except to think good thoughts and try to be as positive a part of the universe as I know how to be.

Doing my very best to be the best I can be in every moment is a monumental and really impossible task because I am only human.

But it is the only way I know to pour as much order and goodness back into the universe as possible.

Silver back

I have reached the age of my majority and that comes with bonuses as well as eye opening consequences.

Retirement and more free time mixes in with aches and pains that can infringe on that time in significant ways.

Wiser decisions combine with fewer choices if I want to stay healthy.

And then there are the undeniable signs of age as friends become the silver backs of our species.

All of these things are note worthy, but not necessarily handicapping. It mostly depends on my ability to be flexible and willing to make changes in order to maintain my quality of life.

The shocks come when a friend I looked to for help and guidance; one who appeared to be the epitome of good health and joie de vivre has a massive heart attack and dies within days.  Someone who ate conscientiously correctly, was very active, and had no real bad habits.

It is proof that we all have a shelf life that cannot be cheated eternally, but we can go while living every second right up until the end.

Imagine

Imagine talking to someone for hours at a time.

Imagine doing this fairly frequently.

It can be one of the richest things I know.

Imagine talking about books and people, ideas and habits, films and trends?

Imagine someone whose is either so much like you, or so open minded that there are no taboo subjects, no need for treading lightly, and no concerns that you will be misunderstood.

It speaks of trust and freedom -- and love so strong and precious that you are never lonely.

Imagine having a relationship like that.

The inner child

I think many people feel that getting old is inevitable -- and it is in most ways.

And it is not all bad.  It is good to become wiser and that only comes with time.

There are people who have always been happy and those who have never been happy and there are those who gradually learn what happiness is -- at its deepest core.

There are those who embrace age like a rare and old wine that only grows better with each passing season.  And there are those who think they will only mold and fall apart like stale bread.

The body may disintegrate, but it is the mind that loves and learns, lives and longs for the things that stir the soul and create the deep rich thoughts that come along with all these things.

It is easier to embrace the ailments of aging if the soul is marinated in love and joy.

So while I am trying to lose weight and exercise, I am also seeking to protect the curiosity and acceptance of an inner child whose self is protected by years of living.

It's the best I can do.

(And it feels pretty darn good.)

Desert or dessert

I don't feel attached to my creative side right now.

There has been some sort of amputation that I can't quite pinpoint.

Whatever it is, the result has left me high and dry in the creative arena.

I think I just need a little time and all will be well.

Sow's ears and purses

Sometimes I wonder how long is too long.

When I really want something I am usually reluctant to give up hope.  I don't always know why something happens, or works, but I do know that sometimes -- it just does.

Lately I have been focused on my bird feeder.  It's one of those clear things that attaches to the window with little suction cups so you can see the birds close up.

I put it up about a month ago thinking that winter, when seeds are hard to find, might be the perfect time to entice birds to come onto my deck and eat.

You might think that is asking a lot, but in good weather house sparrows have no problem at all.  They build nests right up on the inside corner and make that whole side of the deck uninhabitable.

It infuriated me in the beginning, especially because I am the bottom deck in a three story building and even if I run the sparrows off, they just build a story up and their litter still lands on my deck. So, I decided to make the best of a bad situation and enjoy them.

Only it seems that this is too close to me for their comfort.  Of course I have mostly seen crows and geese who are really too big and who I really wouldn't want perching outside on my window sill anyway.  I did see one cardinal, but he didn't stick around long enough to eat, so I wait.

I could rehang the feeder on the outside of the deck with just a few modifications, but I think I'll just wait and in the meantime that extra seed I have in a storage container on my counter top is a good reminder of what ten pounds looks and feels like as I am trying to lose weight.
 

The pessimistic optimist

I am an optimist who always expects the worst from my doctor.

Part of that comes from experience.

Nurse practitioners, afraid of making mistakes, seem to opt for the tried and true without much regard for the person in front of them. I don't know if they lack the education, the experience, or the confidence to do more, but my experience with them has been pretty primitive.

Most of the male doctors I've had seemed to take a paternalistic view that they knew best and I should basically shut up and listen - although they never came right out and said that.

My body seldom does what it is expected to do.  My blood pressure is highest in the morning, lowest in late afternoon.  My temperature is below 96 degrees when I wake up, if  I am well.  I get gout from a particular medicine even though I am a woman -- and the list goes on.

Every time I have had to switch doctor offices, we have to re-invent the wheel.  It can take months before my practitioner catches on. I end up going through batteries of tests whose results vary widely depending on a host of things and that means going on medicines whose side affects are worse than what they are treating me for.

Imagine my relief when my new doctor turned out to be a woman who really listens!  Not only that, but she respects the fact that this is my body and I have a right to make the final decisions about what we do.

I feel like I am in the hands of an intelligent professional and not some worn out robot who lives in fear of being sued.

Optimism

None of us are brand new single celled organisms. 

From conception on we are influenced by our environment. Everything our mother feels, eats, and does, affects our growth.

Then we enter the world and find ourselves at the mercy of a million other things.  How much we are held, loved, talked to, reasoned with, fed, exercised, molds us into the person we are going to be.

The playing field is almost never level. Genes only go so far. Yet some children thrive in spite of their parents and their environment.

Most don't.

It's not a bad thing to focus on the success stories, those who do great things in spite of terrible situations, but it does deflect the focus from those things that might be changed and raise the odds of more children succeeding.

It's up to each of us to do the best we can to give all children a chance, all young people a chance, even young adults a chance since they will be the god being of a new generation of children.

Pollyanna patterns

Bad days.

Everyone has bad days and sometimes they have terrible, horrible no good very bad weeks.

There doesn't seem to be much I can do about either one.

One morning I get out of bed and it's downhill for the next seven days.

It might be longer, but it appears the trend is shifting.  Subtly, but still shifting.

I really can't complain.  I've had a wonderful, awesome, very good, perfect five years.

One week out of 260 is a pretty good ratio.

It's a pattern I'd like to continue.

People who need people

Where do otherwise nice people get the idea that it's okay to take advantage of their friends and family?

I don't mind helping someone out.  I'll even go out of my way to do it, but I do expect the person I'm helping to be cognizant of my worth.

Thinking that people do not mind waiting for me is insane.

My sister has a friend who is always late.  People wait on her everywhere, sometimes for hours.  They sacrifice their vacation time waiting for her to show up. They miss doing what they want to do so she can take advantage of them and indulge her every whim.

She thinks of herself as a free spirit.  I think of her as selfish and egotistical. She gives freely of her money and stuff and yet she ignores basic human dignity. If she likes it, or wants it, or has a yen for it, then it must come to pass -- at anyone and everyone's expense.

I'm sure she would be shocked at the people she has alienated through the years. She thinks of herself as a push over, a real people person, but if she really cared about other people she would give them the respect they deserve.

Unreliable and stressful are the two words that come to mind when I think of her.

I don't understand the people who need that.

Family

The beauty of family is that they are always there.

The problem with family is that they are always there.

Family is there to go with you when you need support, talk to you when you are feeling down, share your joys with you when the occasion arises.

It is also there when you are feeling down, when your head hurts and your blood pressure is soaring and worries are piling up -- times when you think you just want to be left alone.

We suffer through siblings, glad they are there in spite of the fact that they are.

Give me an S!

According to most television shows the stereotypical teen is supposed to be shallow, self serving and concerned only with being the most popular, or -- an absent minded genius who is totally out of touch with the real world.  As if they both grew up in bell jars isolated from reality.

Reality is that the teen years are fraught with insecurity as each one tries to sort out the rules of the world they will eventually live in.  It's a time when rebellion is natural, airs are expected, and it's easy to forget they are still very young fragile souls who are far from fully formed.

In fact, if you are fully grown at such a young age you are probably in for a world of hurt, because you haven't had enough experience to really know what maturity is.

It's different for adults, or it should be.

We know the rules.  Our feet are planted firmly on the ground and we keep our dreams and fantasies safely tucked up in treasure chests that only our very best friends know about.  The sad news is that many of us grew up thinking that exclusivity we deemed necessary at fifteen is a real rut and a necessary one.

Sarcasm still exists, perhaps more knowledgeable, but even more pointed.  Criticism becomes a way of life, anyone not us is wrong. And climbing the ladder seems to be a reality that dictates who will be king of the hill for real now. 

But the truth is that the most successful person can still be the kindest, the most empathetic and when the ladder tips over, he will still be on his way to the top. In fact, he may be the only one really in the fast track because he isn't playing games, he's just doing what's right.  That's something not many people seem to figure out.

But if they do -- watch out, because they are those rare souls who grab the golden ring and never have to let go.

Connections

Sometime in the distant past a woman wrote a novel that became an American classic.  She and I are not related and although I saw the movie, I never read the novel until a few years ago.

Then, yesterday, out of the blue, it was announced that she was releasing another novel. Also written long ago and coming out amid much controversy this summer.

And that announcement has connected her to me through another unlikely set of events that has my best friend being interviewed by media from all over the world.

I feel like Spock playing 3D chess sometimes when I try to think of life and what it means to me.

Life is like a personal ocean of connections.  My appearance, my genes, my thoughts, my actions all emanate out from me and become entangled in those of everyone around me. 

Whatever happens to one of us touches all of us even if we don't know it.

Burn a man alive, or refuse to inoculate your child against measles and you blind people, kill people, bring sorrow and shame into the world.

Feed the hungry, or say a kind word to a needy soul and you raise the spirits and possible good will of more people than you will ever know.

Today I am so excited about a book a woman wrote over 55 years ago.  It touches me profoundly. And yet, I never even knew she existed much of my life and will die without ever meeting her.

Share the good news

There was some kind of game going on a few years ago where people were tracing themselves back to famous people.  Six degrees of separation -- starting with Kevin Bacon.

We like to do that -- hang on to the coattails of those who rise before us and go along for the ride!

Plus it just feels good when those we love are successful.

So when my friend was interviewed by local television, BBC world news,  and a university paper I was ecstatic!

He was somewhat mystified about why they would choose him.

To me it was obvious!  And yet . . .

There were others they could have turned to, but didn't, so it may have been a little bit lucky.

In the end, I was just as happy as he was and so was everyone else who knows him.  That's one of the perks of having good friends.

Growing good

I am encouraged when government, businesses, people in general do something good.

I realize their motives may be less than stellar.  They probably do expect to profit from it in some way, money, votes, power, even just feeling good about themselves.

But that's okay!

Good is still good and it might catch on and spread and grow and someday be as altruistic as the perfectionists in the world want.

Of course there is doing good and there are things that masquerade as it that are really only manipulating or enabling, which is about as bad as it gets.  Enabling is pretty close to evil.  It appears to act out of love and goodwill while sabotaging good works. That is not good.

Simple acts of kindness make people smile and feel good without encouraging bad behavior or hurting them later.  It's not that hard to figure out the difference.

Just run the ball

Our apartment complex ran a contest.  See who can come the closest to the scores on the Super Bowl and get a hundred dollars off next months rent.

Honestly, I didn't know enough about either team to make any kind of logical guess, but I discussed it with my son and sent in a number.

When the game came on I watched intently --

I was really only watching to see how they got to my score!

Now that may sound naive and childlike to you, but I can assure you that I am no child. 

Today I rode my bike, built a snowman and drew a picture.  Then I took some pictures with my camera.  I am very busy!

I am so sad that my team lost the game. If they had just done what I thought -- they would have won!