clarity and wet shoes

my mind is the clearest it has been in a very very long time

I love that I am able to see past the words that come out of people's mouths

I love that I am able to hear deeper

there are many sweet hearts, honest smiles and caring spirits in my work

there are many day-to-day annoyances and selfishness as well

I do not mind it, because anything that seems too perfect would scare me

anything with that veneer I cannot see behind makes me wary

I can accept the realities, because they are REAL; there is no hiding there

I have met a gentle soul there who reminds me of the realities of soul-deep pain, and the bravery it takes to step past that pain to share one's true self in the world. I remind that soul that they are not alone. That though  who they are does not necessarily "match-up" with the society we live in at the moment, the truth is, they are more inspiring, courageous, "better-for-it", when they walk out into the world as they are (excuse me for not sharing even gender here, as I wither at the thought of anyone knowing of whom I am writing). I remind this person that if I met them on the street, I would feel an overwhelming joy. I would be better for even having glimpsed them, as I would say, "Excuse me, can I just tell you how wonderful I think it is that you step out into the world being exactly who you are. You inspire me and fill me with hope for humanity."

I've met these sorts of people.

I'm able to let go of the frivolous notion that I must be perfect to succeed or even to be called "pretty good". 

I'm able to be exactly me, and I feel that in this way, I am more than enough. 

They actually WANT someone who is passionate about teaching children, who is transparent, willing to be REAL, able to let go of inflexibility, walk slower, speak kinder, take more time to resolve, relish the time with these little people...

how, oh how, did I step into this?

Have you ever read Pete the Cat? It is my new favorite thing. Pete LOVES his white shoes, and you sing along, "I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes..." very jazzy and cool, then OH NO! Pete stepped in a large pile of strawberries! Did Pete cry? Goodness no! He just kept walking along, singing his song. Then you sing, "I love my red shoes, I love my red shoes, I love my red shoes..." then OH NO! Pete stepped in a large pile of blueberries! Did Pete cry? Goodness no! He just kept walking along and singing his song. Then you sing, " I love my blue shoes, I love my blue shoes, I love my blue shoes..." (though the artist in me cringes and knows red plus blue is actually purple, I suspend my disbelief for the simplicity of saying blue :)  He steps in mud and then he loves his brown shoes. He steps in water and all the colors wash away and now they are white again, but now they are wet, and he loves his wet shoes!

The end of the picture book actually says that the moral of Pete's story is that no matter what you step in, just keep walking along and singing your song, because it's all good!

I LOVE IT! The kids love it. My own children love it. It makes sense. It is absolutely sensible and right and wonderful and hopeful and healthy. Amazingly simple and beautiful.

And Pete is rather cute, too.

The point, right now, is. I stepped in a few things, that turned into something else than what I'd had. I have cried, but I tried to keep walking along and singing my song. It can be very difficult...can it not?!

I am SO happy that I stepped into this work. I'm so happy that I just kept walking along and singing my song, because some people have heard my song! It turns out our songs are essentially the same, and it sounds rather jazzy and cool, "I love my wet shoes, I love my wet shoes, I love my wet shoes..."

ever light

in that place

of light

where fists are faded

tears, like the tide, can come and go

without desert or hurricane

i am myself

in that place

of light

where eyes are closed

to experiment with sunshine shadows

and soft thoughts

i am myself

in that place

of light

i hear myself before i speak

and think

 of things to say

i am myself

in that place

of ever light

when shine breaks caress shorelines

and sand

 like a lover

mixes with the sea

i am myself

~Katie Estvold~

I hope you dance

what I had to do

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save. 

 

~ Mary Oliver ~

Oh my goodness - there is so much to tell you. I almost didn't tell you, but I owe it to myself to write the truth here.

I had a temporary job. I had to reapply this year and did not get the job. I was absolutely sure I would've gotten it. I did not. If that wasn't devastating enough - in that way that makes you question every good thing you did in that job - not one person from that job called me, or emailed, or have tried to contact me to ask how I've been doing, or how sorry they are, or...I don't know, ANYTHING!

 Second devastation - deep dark sadness.

 Like gnashing of teeth and sack cloth and ashes. I wish I were kidding.

I cried every single day for a month. Most days I could not get out of my bed, or out of my jammies. I did not want to go anywhere, or talk about it to anyone. I had a couple of panic attacks. I hurt my hand punching our cinder block wall. I screamed into my pillow. I mean REALLY REALLY devastated. There is so much you don't know about the other job, and why I would've felt that way. I tried way to hard for people who didn't appreciate, for the most part. I agreed by my silence most of the time. I believe in the education of the whole child. I want to play music in my classroom while we work. I want to be late for library sometimes. I want to keep my kids out 10 more minutes at recess if I  want to. I kissed butt more times than I'd like to admit. I loved the wrong thing. I thought I loved the job, but I just love being with kids.

I am not a Christian, but I say "blessed" and "I'll pray for you". Sadly, that put me into a weird little box that I didn't belong in. 

It is possible you don't understand a word I am saying, or how it all fits in, but you know how hindsight is 20/20? Okay...

Since I knew I didn't have a job there, I had to move my kids to the school in our town, instead. That was one of my husband and I's better decisions. This school looks at our children as whole people. They need consideration, and time and softness. They get that here. 

And can you guess what? I have myself a new job at a place that is just wonderful. I have the chance to be exactly who I am here. To teach according to my beliefs (have you read this? It is also by me). 

I'm having to let go of people I thought were friends. That is hard. I'm still confused about all of that, but I'm doing so much better now. 

The direction of our lives was changed forever, and it seems, for the better.

I play music. I am late to library. I keep kids out longer for recess some days. I have two art periods. i teach real science. I do not live by the fractions on a clock.

I am in a good place for now.