It

One of my classes this semester has me placed with a cooperating teacher so that I may observe his work and teach at least two lessons in the classroom on my own. It's one of the core classes school counseling graduate students must take if they are pursuing certification in IL without already holding a teaching certificate.

Although I have done a lot of teaching, it has never been in a traditional classroom setting for a full year, etc. I find the work incredibly daunting and those who do it well terribly admirable.

In a twist of lucky fate (a blessing, really), I have been placed with an amazing teacher. Sometimes you can watch someone do something and think, "Wow. This person is doing just what he/she was meant to do." They've found their it—whatever that may be.

I felt that way when I saw Ani DiFranco perform live. I felt that way when I saw Dr. Harrawood, one of my profs, share some of her counseling skills in class (she has since moved on to Idaho State... great for them, but very sad for us). I feel that way every time I have a class with Dr. Asner-Self (another prof who is still, thankfully, at SIUC). Or when I read the writings of my fellow Neo-Futurists, or hear my brother playing percussion, or watch my husband working on a play at any stage of the process.

My cooperating teacher displays a similar sort of passion, expertise, and inspired ability in the classroom. And so it's rather wonderful to read about all the things that make a teacher effective—and then see it right there in front of me in action (with middle school students, who can be quite a challenge to reach sometimes). What a gift!

What teachers do is incredibly difficult. And those who are truly excellent at their jobs are one of the greatest assets we have. We entrust quite a bit to them when we send our youth into their care for instruction and molding. Those who honor that trust and give their fullest effort in the hopes of making a positive difference in the lives of their students deserve the very deepest of respect.

If you know what your it is, I salute you. (I envy you.) And I hope it brings you immense joy and fulfillment for a long, long time.

When will the shoe drop?

After the next ice storm?
In the coming six months?
Upon moving to Chicago?
When the next tooth cracks?
At the follow-up eye appointment?
As we put the house up for sale?
During my two exams, three papers, four classes, and multiple assignments?
Once they've tallied unemployment for next month?
While we watch Ari's college fund stocks drop even further?
After I've tried some more to find a job?
When the next person is lost too young?

Near the End

Today is Feb. 1, which means I am 7 days away from my last post... having reached a full year of blogging daily per the task I set for myself.

I think it is timely for a number of reasons, one being my propensity of late to blog about myself. How boring.

This all began in conjunction with a feeling of being called to pursue the UU ministry. A strange and unexpected experience that ultimately resulted in my deciding to put such pursuits on hold for the time being. And, although Andy and I became official members of our local Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, we have not attended services for several months now. I'm not sure why. Again, probably for a number of reasons.

Do I still think I am meant to be a UU minister? I have no idea. I feel so lost some days it's somewhat disheartening. I do believe I am meant to pursue and find a more spiritual path to my life... but whether that is something that becomes a public and/or shared journey is yet to be seen.

In the meantime, I continue to listen each day to the thousands of stories around me and to pray for others in more difficult circumstances than I. What is startling is how many of those stories you will hear when you really start listening for them. When your ears open up to the suffering around you, so does your heart. And for many, action follows short behind.

I am extremely grateful to all those who have made this trek with me and especially for those who have shared their comments, feedback, advice, love, etc. My spiritual awakening was made richer by your participation... and for that, I deeply thank you.

We are all so interconnected. Truly. Sometimes that is an essential thing to remember.

Epiphany #7

I am the only thing standing in my way.

A Day of Mixed Blessings

• We got our shovel back. The woman we had loaned it to told her friend about it - and the friend apparently "forgot" to return it.
• I found out I have no way to get dental care because the one place that takes our state insurance is not taking any new patients. Great, says the lady with half a tooth.
• I only went to school one day this week due to the snow and ice, which was lovely. But this means I have to work into June, which is a total bummer.
• We've been hanging up things that have been up in our attic for 3 years now; rearranging rooms and settling in more. This is ironic since we'll likely be moving in about 7 months.
• I still miss my grandparents every day. I can't tell if it's because I'm living in their house, or if it's because I'm finally letting go of some of the things I had held onto, or if it's because we're getting close to leaving and won't be able to keep it... or maybe all of the above.
• Ari suggested having pancakes for dinner tonight... and she helped me make them. She wanted to wear our matching aprons Nana made. We had a great time, and it helped erase a day of feeling like a bad mother who was struggling to be present.
• I love my husband so much. I wish we had more time together, but I feel insanely lucky to be married to my best friend... someone who can continually surprise me.

Caught

If I could stop the world
in certain moments,
today I would stop
on building a snowman...
laughing in mid-day sun and
wrestling sticks from the dog
as you chased fruitlessly but
happy and elated in your freedom.

I would freeze out imperfections
and lapses of calm or patience.
We could leap over or pause
prior to lost tempers or cyclical
frustrations or even just exhausted
and age-influenced inertia stuck
in bones and joints like
thick cotton stuffing.

Some days I try so hard
and still fall short; reaching
for some imagined ideal
of nurturing, patient perfection.
Neither Cleaver nor Clytemnestra,
just frail, human mommy who
struggles some days to
be present and calm in the chaos.

Push and Shove(l)

With the huge dumping of snow these last two days (huge for this area), nearly everyone on our street has had to dig their cars out from under a thick, white blanket of icy, wet, heavy mess. People keep getting stuck in the street (the city only plowed one lane... and that was only today), and oddly enough there are several folks around us to were caught without a good snow shovel... so we loaned it out a few times.

Unfortunately, the last time we loaned it out, we asked our neighbor to just leave it on the porch. We went up to bed that night and remembered it was still sitting out there, right next to the front door. Andy and I debated as to whether to go down and bring it in... and we ultimately decided to keep snuggled in our warm bed and hope for the best.

Well, this morning it was gone. And I'm of two minds on this one. On the one hand, part of my thought process last night up in bed was that if someone did take it, it was likely because he or she needed it. I mean... you wouldn't just grab a shovel off a porch simply because it's there, right? It would be because you needed one and didn't have one. It's a small thing, and if it was helpful to someone else out there... so be it.

Then again, there is another part of me that feels upset because who in the world walks up onto a front porch and just takes something off of it? We had our flag stolen 2 years ago, and now the shovel. And sometimes I wonder if we should hide the bistro table or the potting materials on the side as well... because apparently nothing is safe.

Luckily, it was not our only one. It was our best one, but we do have another. And at some point, we will be mobile enough to go out and get another, and we'll just keep going... hoping nothing else gets nabbed off our property... and remembering it's all just material possession in the end anyway.