Be Here Now

 

   I remember that stupid bumper sticker. I want to say it was in the 80's or 90's? Not sure, but I know I thought it was obnoxious and cliche. BE HERE NOW.

   Yes, to answer your question I do fall into the "too judgmental," category from time to time. I'm working on it. But, that's another slice.

     This morning wandering my backyard I was remembering George Harrison's quote (which I'm sure he borrowed from some philosophy- Indian or Buddhist) which is, "Yesterday is gone, tomorrow is the future, all we have is today."

  If you try to live in that. . . I mean really TRY and live in that- it's a beautiful space. It's magic at its' very core. Don't think of something else. don't try to hold on, and don't post a picture of it. You get where I am going? 

   If you can stay there the lens from which you see things can be life changing.

   Okay, now I sound like a bumpersticker. . . .

Star Jasmine or Honeysuckle

   If there were a walking, living version of Cliff Notes it would be my Dad. Or maybe this is better example for the Gen Z-ers, if Wikipedia were an actual person, it would be my Dad.

   My Dad knew something (and often a whole lotta something) about everything. And I'm not exaggerating.  Both his parents were doctors, He went to college when he was 15.  Education, and knowledge were highly valued in his home.

   When I spent time with him outdoors I had to listen to him identify every plant, rock, star, or insect.  If we were indoors topics might range from music, art, literature, history or even politics. The time frame could be anywhere from past to present.  As I grew older I quickly learned to ask him for the Cliff Notes version, and I'm talking about the summary at the front of the booklet. Out of necessity I became preemptive. 

    "Dad, I have to ask you something, and I need the 10-15 minute version."

   When he passed away (very quickly to cancer) i planted these fragrant bushes in front of our house to remind me of our walks when I was a child. Me, just wanting the soft serve at the end of our walk, and him pointing out all the constellations, and telling their stories. I  remember nodding an affirmation as he spoke when truthfully my mind was just fixated on that future vanilla creaminess.

    The hedge is so full and healthy now after 23 years, and so unbelievably fragrant. I love to stop and smell it, but honestly I can smell it right when I open our front door. I was never sure when I planted it  whether it was Star Jasmine, or honeysuckle.

    I know who would know.

The Doctor is IN

     I've been playing around, and researching the idea of the restorative powers of the outdoors. I fell upon it by mistake. I just happened to notice how much I was enjoying being outside in the mornings. And if I worked, had a responsibility, or traveled I really found myself missing it.

     Almost craving it.

     Then as I started to read, and research I discovered so much. 

     There is a healing impact. There are also therapeutic benefits. Think low stress and even improving mood.  Reconnecting with nature lowers both anxiety and depression. It can also make one feel connected and give a sense of belonging in the world. These are obviously two very important components to one's mental health. In addition being outdoors can provide a brief escape from our world, its' overwhelming intensity, and overstimulating screens.

    There is actually a science now called EcoTherapy.

    Did I mention being outside can improve cognitive functioning?

    I may just move into my backyard.

   

Light Bulb Lighted

   I've noticed a pattern lately in my retirement from teaching for 30 years that I think I am beginning to understand.

   My heart, my head, and my instincts now go out to the kids who are at risk, struggling, and can be behavior problems. When I am subbing these kids are easy to recognize, they materialize immediately, and I find myself gravitating towards them throughout the day.

    Now I want to clarify. It wasn't that I was ignoring them when I was in the classroom full time. I want to make that clear. However, when you are teaching you have SO many pots on the stove. You are that waiter who either is bringing out so many meals on a platter, or that busboy with the overloaded tray with all the dishes. So, I know this sounds horrible but these kiddos were just some of the many needs I was trying to meet. Trying to meet.

     Do you get what I mean?

     Educators wear so many hats.

     Educators wear too many hats.

     And so I have been noticing that these kids, these kids who are square pegs, who either don't "get" what is going on, or they don't want to "get" it. They are now like magnets for me.

    I kneel down and whisper. I check in with them throughout the day. Sometimes, I go and find them on the playground at recess,  or I try to strike up conversations with them when they line up, or even as we walk through the school grounds.

   And I understand now that I never had the time for this before. I never could have seen this before during my typical school day ( AND NIGHT).  And think I really understand now the absolute full scope, and depth of what is being asked of public school educators every day. 

    And I also forgive myself.

  

A Gift

 

Spending time with my adult daughter and discovering that I not only love my kid, but I also enjoy spending time with her as an adult is such a GIFT.

   I know it doesn't have to be that way.

   I also know I'm gonna love her no matter what.

   But sitting with her for dinner the other night and just taking her in was pure MAGIC.  I just reveled in her animated talk about her job, politics, the world, animal rights, etc. 

   I just wanted to drink it all in.

   In fact, I can't help but smile when I think of her.  And when I do, I think of her fiery spirit, her passion and her endless positive energy.

   And make no mistake- I know I am blessed.

Yet Another Layer

   I don'r presume, or claim to have the corner on sad moments in life but I gotta say that emptying out the storage space of an alcoholic is definitely up there.

   I also need to add that alcoholism is a gift that keeps on giving. And just when you think you have hit your threshold for pain you get a big surprise.

   I was dreading this task, and I was definitely not seeking it out. I thought it would be like cleaning out the garage, maybe? I thought it would be a physically taxing job.

    But it was that, and so much more.

     Each box held a memory. Each box held a feeling. Sometimes, the boxes held frustration or evidence of my sister's alcoholism. Mostly the boxes held items simply demonstrating a life that was no longer being lived. I took in rugs, wall art, and even refrigerator magnets that had all played a role in an active, and busy life. 

     I remembered those rugs. I sat at that table. I ate off those plates.

     Yet another new way the disease has impacted our family, and me.

     Still her younger sister but no longer anything else.

    

Small Moments

   

    I have been thinking recently about the whole idea of whether or not small moments are really big ones.

    Now hold on- here me out.

    I can't remember how I fell upon this concept but I must admit it really got me thinking.

    Now I'm not gonna bog my point down with a bunch of examples because that not only gets inside of your head but it also deflects from the power of this idea.

    How do you test this theory? I'm not there is a concrete way.

    But

    Just think of the typical milestones, or the biggest events in your life and let the idea rest there. Yes, they are important. Yes, they are significant. 

    But 

    Think of your child's first smile, think of a blade of grass covered with dew, the sound of the surf, the timber of a loved one's voice. . . . and on, and on. . . .

    Let that ruminate.

    So the next time you are out, and going about your day, try to take in a "small moment" with that different lens. 

    Slow down. Look closely.

   When you get in that groove, and stop and take things in this way, the results might be transformative.