So lucky

I had a wonderful day today, so many gifts and I feel like I have so little time to record them all... I admit this is partially due to Self-inflicted Holiday Knitting Pressure (SIHKP). Anyway, I really wanted to write about and remember a visit today from a former student, Dave Douglas, who was in my creative writing class when he was a senior and is now almost graduated from Alfred University. Dave is an artist and he came by to show me photos of his work and tell me about what he's doing. For me, as a teacher, this is the most amazing gift. To be able to connect with someone who is doing such interesting and beautiful things, and to have had even a small part in who he is today, is what it's all about. So thanks Dave! If I can figure out how, I will link to his blog so more people can enjoy his work!

Two gifts

I was waiting all day today, wondering what gifts I would receive... It was kind of a busy, stressful day, running around getting ready for the holidays and the week of school before vacation. Anyway, now that I have a moment to myself there are two gifts I want to record here. Gift #1. My friend Amy's post on Facebook today was about hugging your family and telling them that you love them. It's the anniversary of her parents' terrible car accident, and she exemplifies someone who is so strong, hurting, and still giving. I admire her so much and will do whatever she says (...within reason). I hugged my kids and husband tonight. Thank you, Amy. Gift #2 was the beautiful starry night sky. Deedee gave it to me by demanding to be taken out. I had some good clear breaths and feel much better now. Thanks Deedee!

Receiving

I am on day three of The Receiving Project, an experiment in opening myself to guidance from the universe... as new agey as it sounds, I am loving the idea of daily reminders to be aware of and accepting of all the good things that come my way.  Yesterday, my gift was a huge hug from our school social worker, who came down to my office just to tell me that she thinks I'm great.  It was exactly what I needed as I try to fight the good fight and not be overwhelmed by the holiday season!  I'm hoping that it will also encourage me to blog more regularly... we shall see.

Occasional paper for my AP class

I love teaching AP English because it's hard in a good way. The course itself challenges me to think as a writer, the novels we read are so thick and rich (and chocolatey), and the kids who take AP are almost always bright, interesting, and easy to teach because they're good at playing the game of school. They know how to listen and nod when their teachers say smart-sounding things, they are nice to each other, and they are very, very good at having bullshit discussions about literature they haven't actually read. I know this. I've had some great, brilliant classes, some funny classes, some just really nice classes, and some not-incredibly-exciting classes, but I've enjoyed teaching them all. So what's different about this year?

Imagine that you've had one of the worst years of your life. Not only have you witnessed the decline and death of your colleague, but you've also felt responsible for making sure everyone around you is ok. You got in a car accident, and had an emergency root canal, and both your dog and your brother-law had seizures. Also, you had a teacher quit on the first day of school, your whole family had strep throat twice, and your friend's baby was premature. There was an earthquake/tsunami/nuclear meltdown in the place of your birth, where a bunch of your family members still live. This year has been the kind of stressful that makes you laugh hysterically at inappropriate times and question what you could possibly have done to create this karmic whirlpool of freaky terribleness.

Now imagine that also during this year, almost every day, you get to be in a place where people laugh and listen to each other and get all excited about things you love - like books, writing, words -- and not only do you get to hang out there for a solid 55 minutes (except on D day), but it's your job! You get paid to do this! Can you imagine how lucky you would feel?

A combination of horrible circumstances and amazing people has helped me learn and grow in a startling way this year. The crucible of this year -- the heat and the blackness that often seemed to surround me -- has melted away some of the old beliefs I had about life and what is most important. I've seen in this room, that just sitting and listening is the most important part of education. That when we get to know each other in real, authentic ways, we really, really like each other. Sometimes it's good to just close the door for a little while and be in the presence of other kind people. That good conversations make us better writers.
I could go on and on. This has been a year of lessons for me, and I'm looking forward to some downtime this summer so I can reflect on what has happened. But I wanted you to know the significance of your part in my life story. There will be many times in your lives when you wonder what your purpose is or if you even matter. I hope that you can have a fleeting memory of 11th grade English, 2011, and realize that you gave me a gift, just by coming here everyday and being your real selves, that has affected everything that I will do from now on. Thank you Yi, Jessie, Tori, Lindsay with an a, Emily, Jack, Michaela, Hayley, Alycia, Hasher, Alan, Megan, David, Riley, Taylor, Jess, Julie, Amanda, Lindsey with an e, Davana, Rebecca, Carla, and Kevin. Thank you for being the kind of individuals and the kind of people who make me hopeful for the future. If this was Glee, I would now take out a guitar and sing an inspirational song, and you would,all join in, and then the credits would roll. But this is real life, so now we will discuss The Old Man and the Sea instead.

Can't sleep

One of the gifts of this annus horribilis has been insomnia. I meant that sarcastically, but now that I've written it, I'm not so sure. Here I am on the living room couch, reading blogs, thinking about teaching, with my dog keeping me company in the quiet of the night. It's very peaceful. I've always thought that if I can't sleep I should get up and try to figure out the reason why, and then fix it, but I'm actually feeling quite content here right now. Go figure.

Perfectionism

I'm realizing how often I don't write because I can't think of the cleverest, smartest way to say things. And then that thought is lost. So I'm going to try really hard to be really soft with myself. I'm just checking in. Am starting a 5 day juice cleanse tomorrow, so we'll see how that goes! (Just previewed this post and wanted to delete it, but will try to be OPEN and nonjudgmental of myself... Here goes)

Too much sad

It has been so hard to write lately.  It feels like there is just so much sadness in the world right now, although I  am blessed to be safe, and warm, and loved.  Many of my students are struggling with the overwhelming pressure they feel to be perfect teenage girls; the pictures from Japan break my heart (although I am so glad that our family is safe and even has a new baby to celebrate in Tokyo); and most of all, my colleague and fellow teacher is dying.  I went back to find a quote from Virginia Woolf's novel The Waves that I remembered standing out for me when I first read it in college, and now it seems even more true:

By what name are we to call death?  I do not know.  I need a little language such as lovers use, words of one syllable such as children speak when they come into the room and find their mother sewing and pick up some scrap of bright wool, a feather, or a shred of chintz.  I need a howl; a cry.  When the storm crosses the marsh and sweeps over me where I lie in the ditch unregarded I need no words. Nothing neat.  Nothing that comes down with all its feet on the floor.  None of those resonances and lovely echoes  that break and chime from nerve to nerve in our breasts, making wild music, false phrases.  I have done with phrases.
How much better is silence; the coffee-cup, the table.  How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake.  Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee-cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.

Hats for Annemarie

These cute little hats are for my friend Kim's baby -- she came early, so I tried to make a variety of sizes!

The smallest would fit a golf ball, the largest a softball...  they were so fun to make.

How to Complicate Your Life in an Indeterminate Number of Not-So-Easy Steps

For as long as I can remember, I've been interested in how to simplify my life.  I chose Thoreau for my big research paper in high school.  I read books, visit websites, and periodically embark on decluttering programs, cleanses, spiritual studies, and bouts of extreme frustration with the state of my house, body, and mind.  I keep feeling like the perfect designed-just-for- me thing is out there somewhere and it will make creating the life I've always dreamed of easy and natural.  I know that it will take work, but once I find the right path, it will be joyful work.

A lot of friends told me that my forties would be a good decade because I would stop caring so much about what other people thought.  From my thirties, this seemed like kind of a sad, giving-up-the-good -fight attitude, but understandable.  Now I'm in my forties, and I think I'm finally getting it.  Part of "getting it" involves realizing that anyone in their thirties would probably now see me in that sort of tired, but admirable stage of life.  But the difference is that now I really don't care.  

Yesterday I picked up a book from my bookshelf that I remembered being really interesting and inspiring.  The post it flags, highlighting, and writing within the pages certainly supported that memory.  I definitely read it more than once.  The title of the book is How to Simplify Your Life.  It has a lot of really clear interesting information packed into it, covering all the possible areas you might need to simplify, including your environment, your health, your schedule, your attitude, everything.  I opened up the book to what I remembered as my favorite part, a chapter that talked about personality and included a self test (did I mention that I love self tests?) on the enneagram.  I know I'm a four and I wanted to look never some of the descriptions again.  After about five minutes of reading, I put the book aside.  It just wasn't that interesting.

I started thinking about how recently, I had actually made some successful efforts to simplify specific parts of my life.  I really pared down my wardrobe to about 5 pairs of pants, some shirts and sweaters, and a few pairs of shoes that I wear all the time.  I also cut meat and most animal products out of my diet.  I don't know if that's made it less complicated to feed myself, but it has certainly saved me time in terms of figuring out what to eat.  For both of these changes, I had to acknowledge that those areas of my life are some of the least compelling for me.  I'm not especially proud of that, but it's the truth.  And what simplifying those everyday routines has done has helped me allow complexity and complication into my life in the areas that really give me joy.

I have more energy for teaching, making stuff, and being with my kids.  But the clearest and funniest example has to be the dog.  Before we got the dog in July last year, I had a lot of worries about how it was going to affect my life.  I pictured myself standing outside in the freezing cold, begging the dog to poop.  I imagined the influx of dog hair on our clothes and furniture.  I wondered about the noise, smell, mess, etc.  Well, it turns out that all of those fears were totally justified.  The dog is incredibly stubborn, stinky, barks loudly, and I do have primary responsibility for her.  She has complicated my life in ways I hadn't dreamed of.  However, I am totally in love with her, can't imagine life without her.  She's just the kind of slowing-down, hilarious complication that I needed.

So, I'm learning some good stuff in my forties.  I don't think I'll be writing a self-help book anytime soon about the joys of complicating your life, but I do know that I have finally let go of the idea that I will ever have a sleek, minimalist living room, all white walls, black furniture and one perfectly placed flower arrangement.  There aren't usually dogs or kids in those pictures.  Or unfinished knitting projects, or uneven stacks of cheap paperbacks, or dads and their sons playing inappropriately violent xbox games.  I haven't actually thrown out the simplifying book, but I'm on my way.

Finished objects

I've been doing a lot of knitting lately.  Major stress relief, I think it's the soothing repetition.

I made all these tiny mittens as gifts for my friends at school.

 These are socks and a hat for Lloyd (may not fit his ginormous head).

And a hat and fingerless gloves for myself.  Thanks to Zoe for being a model.
Seriously,  knitting keeps me sane.

New year's day

I took a walk down to Mixville park today.  It was so warm, I had my jacket open and no hat or gloves.

update:  I did start this post on 1/1/11, but was called away from my computer and am only getting back to it now.  Two women I work with are dealing with terrible medical situations, and I am trying to help out the best I can.  It certainly puts things in perspective and makes me realize once again how blessed I am to have all the connections and support I do.
What I was going to write about on Saturday was that instead of making resolutions this year, I decided to choose a word to inspire me instead.  After a lot of thought, the word I chose was "open" -- may I be open minded, open hearted, open to all the gifts the universe offers this year.