Little Scraps of Magic

On With the Dance!

  "We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance."

Japapnese proverb...

When we were at the beach 2 weekends ago, they closed off Main Street for a block party.  A live band kept things stomping, and the people took to the streets.  No one cared what they looked like...and, to put it kindly, there were no would be contestants for "So, You Think You Can Dance." But, boy were they having fun!  My husband kindly offered that nearly everyone had a beer in their hands. I countered with the fact that he was on the sidelines "watching." Guess who was having more fun?  Not that I'm condoning drinking. Not by any means. I grew up with many an alcoholic in the extended family. These guys were just a bit "loose limbed."

So, why do we care so much about what others think? When do we lose that wild inhibitation we had as kids? You know...the stuff that lets us dance down the aisles of the supermarkert to the muzack being piped through the store?

Patti DIgh writes: "I have come to believe our loss of spontaniety is more about judgement than control.  To the extent that I am willing to sit in the judgement of other people, I myself am being judged.  If I stop judging other people, I free myself from being judged, and I can dance!

Easier said than done, huh?  But, we're losing out on so much until we do. And, life's just too short as it is.  Why give up on some of the joy that's out there to grab?

Not so long ago my sixth graders found themselves determning the mean, median, and mode for length of CD tracks. I had grabbed the data off of a cd by "The Puppini Sisters." They begged to be allowed to hear it. I wasn't sure; this is a cd of 40's type music! And, yes, would they judge me as being totally out of it? But, I relented, and I put it on during their test. And, as I watched, toes began tapping.  Pencils kept time on the desk as they pondered the problems. Periodically, one would turn around and just grin at me. And, after the last test, they began to hum along. Trust me, hearing several sixth grade boys harmonize to 40's music is worth every penny.

My wish for all of you is that you find some time soon to dance!

 

"People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.  But I think the real miracle is to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child - our own two eyes.  All is a miracle."

                                                                             - Thich Nhat Hanh

In her book, Life is a Verb, Patti Digh asks this question:

"What is your touchstone, your talisman, small wonder that you carry with you into the world?....hold it safe, keep it company, swing it on your swing, sleep with it under your pillow. Let it remind you of finding wonder in our world, share it with others..."

I have carried all sorts of things: small shells so worn by the sea that they're translucent, multicolored grains of sand, pictuers of my childern when they were small, a small silver angel.

The angel is my mother. She received it from her "chem angel," a wonderful woman who herself had breast cancer, and now took the time to write to my mother, send her cards of encouragement, funny little stuffed animals, and the like as mom battled breast cancer.  I found this little angel when we were cleaning out mom's things after she had died.

Carrying her was taking a bit of my mother with me, a piece of her to hold on to.

I have a beautiful young girl in my class whose mother is now battling breast cancer. I think that I'm going to pass this angel on to her.  I like to think of my mother as taking care of her.  I know that my mother would do it; she knows how much a young child needs her own mother. What ever may happen, I know that my mother, an angel herself now, will give this mother what she needs..the grace to deal with what's coming her way.

When we will all realize just how precious this one short life is? We fret and fuss about such insignificant things. We waste way too much time.  We don't realize what we have.

I know I  do, no matter how much I try not to do so.

Phil and I were out and about today, and we stopped in one of my favorite stores, "Crate and Barrel." I love to wander through its bottom levels, looking at all the table settings. They're a feast of color and imagination.

I deliberately ignored most of my other favorite stores in the area; if I had wandered into them, I would have just gotten agitated with what I couldn't have, none of which I would have even known existed if I didn't enter the store! So, we left in a fairly good frame of mind, other than being a bit cranky from the humidity.

And, then I saw her. An elderly woman bundled up despite the humidity, all of her belongings stuffed into an ancient grocery cart, waiting to cross the road. She was gone from view in an instant, but she's still etched in my memory.

What a reality check. I have enough. I have an abundance, not only of things, but of friends, family, and exciting new opportunities knocking at my door.

So, I'll pass my angel along to where she's needed the most. And, I'll pray for the woman who haunts my dreams.

Intensity: Say Yes

I am still mulling over, reading and reading pages from Patti Digh's book, Life is a Verb.  There is so much food for thought, so much that gives me a good, healthy reality check about what's really important in my life.

Last weekend we were blessed with an invitation from my brother, Michael. He had gone to Chincoteague to celebrate his 50th birthday, and he wanted family around him. He rented a small cottage, the cost on him.

I love Chincoteague.  It's a barrier isalnd off Virginia's coastline, and it's about 2 miles by 7  miles. You can't help but slow down. There's Chincoteague time and there's real world time! 

One of my favorite spots to haunt is the Main Street Coffee house, which is the most wonderful mix of coffee, books. jewelry, journals, plates, vases, art, etc. And, oh my, the shoes!!! I found the most wonderful pair of funky black shoes. THey looked great on my feet and were beyond comfortable. I wanted those shoes. I pined for those shoes. I sulked, because, quite simply, I could not afford those shoes.  If I hadn't had several other pairs of shoes, wonderful in and of themselves, I could have made a case for those shoes. When it came right down to it, I just couldn't, so now I'm home, and there still there.  I think I heard them crying as I left. We were meant to be together, those shoes and I.

I have more than enough. I need to clean out things and donate them to someone who will use them.  I'm working on this.  It's not easy. I am every susceptible to quirky and funky. Throw in some color, and I'm lost!

In Patti's book there is a quote from Natalie Goldberg that says it all: " Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life." 

I'll leave you with a few of mine:

Cloudy gray days at the shore... 

Used book stores housing quirky cats...

 

Store windows holding treasures to make me smile...

 

Communing with the local ducks, who are more than content with bread crumbs...

 

and, that sunflower bread, pictured above, which came from here:

 

So, no shoes, but life's pretty darn good after all, don't you think?

Duck Envy!

  It's a sad, sad day when you envy a duck. But, I do. I really, really do.

Look at these guys. Basking in the sun, all hunkered down, dozing and dreaming.

I have "duck envy."

See the guy back in the upper left corner. His head is tucked under his wing. He looks blissful. A few bread crumbs tossed his way. A drink from a slowly leaking outside tap. Time in the sun to dream. Contentment.

All is well here, although, I would give a great deal to doze in the sun. I need to sleep, relax, rest.  Nothing major, just so much to do and a decided lack of time in which to do it. Phil's working major hours; it's the end of the military fiscal year. This too shall pass, but in the meantime, we're two zombies passing in the night.

More tomorrow or the day after. A bit of art to share, even more pictures. Celebrations of birthdays and family.

Talk to you soon!

Just Plugging Along

  What a week this is proving to be; I am completely and utterly exhausted.  We have had meetings before school, after school, during school, etc. We have an all afternoon meeting on Friday. They're all needed and necessary, but I've not been able to get anything done. I'm at school by 6:45 am just to get papers run off. I bring home hours of correcting. Last night, I just wanted to sit and cry out of complete exhaustion. So, today, I left 75 tests sitting on my desk. I sat myself in the middle of my bed and journaled this page. The background and images were put in place some time ago. I just wrote and wrote, and it offered a sort of therapy and relaxation I desperately needed. I knew that if I didn't take at least one evening for me, I'd be cranky and irritable with the kids. They don't deserve that. I don't deserve that. In a sense, I'll pay. Those darn tests will need to be squeezed in somehow tomorrow, and tomorrow night's "Back to School." Somehow, it will all work out... I HOPE!

I do get to go to the beach this weekend...Yeah! My brother invited Phil and I down; he's paying. We'll treat him to dinner since he's turning 50 next week. How cool is that?

Phil is working long hours since the military's fiscal year ends on October 1, and he's part of the finance group. By next weekend it will be 12 hour shifts and sheer madnes, so the timing is great. I'll need to take along the laptop to work on lesson plans and a few other things, but that's okay. The trade off is well worth it!

You may not hear from me until Monday or so.  Take care, everyone!

Let It Be.

  Okay, I lied. Kind of. Sort of. Remember that page that I said I ripped out last week? Well, I did. But, I only ripped out the right side of the spread. On the back of the left side was another journal entry that I didn't want to toss. I full intended to glue the left side to another page in the atlas and just hide it. But the next morning found me sort of liking it. So, I deicded to play with it a bit, just to see what might happen. This is the result, and I like it.  So, why did it work this time? There's a few reasons, I think.

One, I just played. I glued down the image I had saved from the part I trashed. Part of someone's else's blog was still playing in my head...about being a seeker. So, I copied that much and added my own thoughts. I had some very cool word stamps sitting on my art table, and I decided to try to use them.

I smudged on some neopaque crayons and created a border, but that was rather bland. So, I stamped on the "Late Night Thoughts." I liked it even more and decided to let well enough alone. So, I just journaled.

Reason two connects with reason one. I didn't force the page into being something it wasn't meant to be. If you focus on my background, complete with flowers, no less, you can see clearly that it was NOT meant to be a page about chaos. No way. And, you think that I would have been able to see that as well. Apparently not.

This time I let my "muse" take over. I went with the flow. I just "let it be." (Are you humming the Beatles tune along with me here?)

Let it be. What a good lesson on so many levels. We force people into molds to suit our purposes. We try to make ourselves someone we are not. This doesn't mean that we can't change. Or that my art will never change. No, it will evolve and grow. I will, as well. At least, that 's what I'm aiming for!

So, a resurrected page, saved from the brush full of gel meant to glue it down and to hide it from view.

A page I considered failure at one point turns out to be one that I love.

Some things are just not meant to be forced.

Life Is A Verb

  I have always love Patti Digh's blog, so when her book came out a few weeks ago, I grabbed the first chance to buy it! You need to do the same; you really do! I fell asleep last night lost in her pages; so much of what she says about living our lives mindfully resonates with me. Included in the book are wonderful journaling ideas; enought to make me really think about what it is that I want my life to be and enough journal fodder for a very long time, indeed!

I've always loved to write,and I've always loved art. The words are as important as the art when I write. For a good time, I wondered if I were journaling "wrong." So many others seemed to focus on the art. There were words, but they didn't seem as if they were going to spill and tumble off the page like mine. Or, entries seemed to be mostly words, with little art. Yet, I couldn't stop; I NEEDED to write, and my pages NEEDED color and images.

The beginning of Patti's book explores why we need to write.  She talks about losing someone to Alzheimers and of someone else who dies young.  A sentence fairly lept off the page and has been tumbling about in my mind ever since.  A journal page resulted:

As I read it, I couldn't help but think about my mother, and how I wish that I had taken the time to really know her as another woman. Mom didn't leave much behind in written form, so I've forever lost my chance. I'm hoping that either my own children, or maybe one day, my grandchldren, will peruse my journals and learn about me.  After all, I am part of them! 

I had prepped the background for this page yesterday, before  I knew what story it would tell. I added Patti's quote this morning, and then found this image, part of card I had bought early last spring.  How perfect a fit!

Anyway, go check out Patti's blog here:

http://37days.typepad.com/37days/

and go out and buy her book!

September 11, 2001, 9:37 a.m.

So much to remember...

The intercom crackled, "Code Red." I looked up startled; we had practiced "Code Reds" often, but never with the students. Without missing a beat, I walked over and quietly locked the door. I smiled at my third graders, told them we were okay, and we kept on going. I began to hear sirens.

A knock on the door...I  walked over to verify that it was a staff member, and I cracked it open a bit. She whispered, "The Pentagon's been hit." Keep the door locked unless it's a staff member.

My heart sunk. Phil was at work there, and no one knew much of anything.

Parents began to arrive. Staff members came to our rooms, picked up the child, and escorted him or her to the office and waiting parents.

Our librarian circulated periodically and updated us. The Pentagon was in flames. All phone lines were down.

We did math. We did reading. Eventually, we brought the kids together, and quietly told them what was happening. Children sobbed; many had parents there. We prayed as a school and then returned to locked classrooms and waited for parents to arrive, rejoicing with each and every reunion. I rocked some of  my kids and read stories. I wondered if I was widowed.

A knock on the door; I opened it to Phil. He couldn't get to the car, and he couldn't call. He had walked from the Pentagon to my school. I hugged him and kissed him and didn't care a whit that it was unprofessional behavior.

Eventually the building emptied and Phil and I caught a ride with a friend. We drove home through utterly silent and empty streets, only broken by the sounds of more sirens. Neighbors waited to see if we were okay and the phone began to ring with calls from friends and family.

My husband lost 2 close friends. A child I had taught lost his father. The next day I watched my husband return to work in a still burning building. I phoned friends to touch base. I mourned for some who were lost.

I'm mostly writing this for me. THere is a need to remember so that I know how blessed I am. A September blue sky still makes me pause and wonder if the day's beauty will be marred. I carry a slight uneasiness with me throughout the day.

This is not my usual posting for "Thankful Thursday." I can't begin to tell you though how grateful I am.

Hello, Fall!

 Mz Humidity took a hike today! ( I started with Mr. Humidity, but I figured if anyone was hot and bothered, it would be a menopausal woman!) AHEM....I digress! So, open windows, turned off ac, relaxed me.

Sixth graders make me smile. We've been working on where to take surveys, that the idea is  to get a good mix of people. Well, they KINDA got it. 

Question: Should you take a survey on favorite types of music at a retirement home?  What they should have told me was "No, because the ages are too alike and you don't have a good mix of ages, etc."

What did I get? I did get the "no's," but here are some reasons:

...because not everyone goes to a retirement home.

....because old people don't listen to music.

...because old people are deaf and they can't hear it anyway.

I love my job. I really do.

A Most Amazing Day!

  Gorgeous, no? Autumn and all her gifts just makes me smile.  There's a hint of crisp air to come, and the promise of opening my windows and turning off the ac, fills me with delight!

Pumpkin spice lattes. Simmering soup on the stove. Gourds and pumpkins heaped everywhere. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Today, I've survived line plots with 75 sixth graders. By George, I think they've got it! They can also classify sources as primary or secondary, published or not, visual documents or not, etc. THe jigsaw puzzle of sixth grade is not so difficult after all.

I've just spent the last hour meandering through eye candy on blogs, discovering new blogs, and smiling at humorous posts. A wondeful dose of happiness.

My art room is calling my name. My atlas journal breathes a sigh of relief that yesterday's disaster of a page no longer exists! Papers wait to be painted. Last night, an idea for a really neat way to use those rubbings danced through my head! Dancing...seems to be a lot of dancing here. Me thinks the universe is sending a message!

"Dance then, where ever you may be, for I am the Lord of the dance said he....

Talk to you all tomorrow!