To see the world like a child we all once were can be an easy reach or forgotten measure. We must not let go of that child still in us. If lost or forgotten, we must find that child from within.
The distance between who you are today to who you are tomorrow depends on how many laps you have run from who you were yesterday.
The question is, to what part of you have you clung onto and to what parts have you left behind?
Having lost a chance before break started, I plan on telling a colleague of mine upon our return how I remember when they first started, the incredible zeal and energy they had for changes and improvements that could be implemented into our school expectations. I also remember all the many incredible discussions this colleague contributed to our staff meetings.
Keeping to myself a great majority of the time when students are not in my classroom, I find the workroom is where I get to quickly catch up with other adults, each of us sometimes running an individual sprint, a marathon, and to most frequent days, both, planning and preparing for our classes. Traversing from getting water, tea, or coffee while most likely waiting for the copy machine to print out anything necessary, a quick chat to catch up with those you wouldn’t have an opportunity to otherwise is inevitable.
I used to hear this colleague before even seeing the very energetic movement of their existence in the room. There was always something to be said, ideas to be shared with someone else, that never failed to be spoken and heard.
This last time, I took a moment to acknowledge an odd noticing as I was getting my tea. That same colleague was quietly making copies, not a word being uttered, no quick movements about the room to be seen.
It dawned to me that while I only took that moment to note this peculiar change in demeanor of that colleague, in the years that have transpired, recollectively, a gradual drop of energy had already been seeping through from this particular soul.
While I tried to be an open ear for the time being I had by asking how they were doing, I got the sense from the word, “Good”, the apparent drainage in them was not matching such response.
I understood. What I call S.O.S, sick of school, doesn’t suggest being sick of students or sick of staff. The everyday get-ups to face unpredictable weathers when always trying to plan for a pretty picnic can truly be maddening when rain is followed by more rain at times. Getting a break is the necessary to recover, recuperate, and thus, return.
Being me, I threw the moment at myself to admit how I was ready for winter break, not wanting to be bitter if I stayed any longer (the other S.O.S acronyms mentioned one hopes to never feel). I could only get this colleague to agree before I went on my way back to my classroom.
Since then, I’ve been wanting to tell that colleague of mine this: “Don’t ever let go of you. You have brought so much energy to the table since the moment you started. Even when it seems no one may agree with your ideas or suggestions, that doesn’t mean your intentions present no actual value. In fact, your very thoughts spoken are what keep me and I’m sure, others as well, actively listening in the room. Don’t be discouraged by our inability to follow through your vocal leadership. Keep planting seeds in us all until one of those sown seeds sprout.”
I hope to say it just like that or better. Shining one’s light is not easy around those who, too, are fighting to keep their lights burning under heavy winds and unpredictable storms. Middle school teaching amidst a challenging environment is an island of its own. The challenge to make a positive impact is an exertion of energy that can leave one spent by the end of each day, week after week.
To embody resilience within every given moment of life, we must always try to find good within every experience. Otherwise, we become fixated on the wrong thought process of what life has to offer- ignoring the choice to find good in every way.
So easily pointed out and yet, how easily we allow ourselves to forget our own strengths and abilities to withstand attacks of the heart, mind, body, and spirit.
In truth, I meant what I said when I confessed I was ready for a break. I don’t want to be bitter of the blessing to teach and simultaneously learn at the same time. And so, to be reminded of the power of choice, I think back to just this last summer when I found myself tested amidst the first plane ride to start our summer vacation.
Budgeting time or money, we have kept our vacation trips to a minimal, making sure that our children’s competitions were always our priority while managing a fun family activity to follow within each trip. Children don’t realize how much competition trips can sum up to and to not bother exposing its truth so each can focus on competition itself, everything else is quietly left for the adults to manage and maintain.
This last summer, our youngest two finally arrived to that age where we could worry less about them every step they took away from us. Roughly thirteen years apart from our once youngest child, we have come to the understanding that while we are happy to see our children getting older, the funny part to this bittersweet celebration is, so am I and my husband.
Our youngest two are not in full competition age yet, but getting older as parents, the pandemic allowed us to acknowledge that time taken for granted is simply time lost. These last years have taught us to seize given opportunities and embrace where the course takes us.
The outlook of life develops into maturation as time progresses. I use “progresses” because indeed my husband and I have contentedly made great strides in life. While our older three must continue to grow and embrace their further pathways now as adults, my husband and I smile to think of all their accolades and accomplishments to mark as verification of their strong foundation to overcome obstacles.
Without doubt, we anticipate the same hard work and efforts to solidify the pathways for our last two. And yet, we are older. While our older three didn’t seem to be concerned with losing us, being such young parents then, our youngest two clearly and regularly remind us (if not, verbally) that time is ephemeral.
To move with time’s pace, summer break is one we have now learned to take advantage of early on. We were excited for this year’s early summer plans. We just didn’t take into account that weather and the decision of people not to work as a team has the power to not just change flights, but to keep a plane grounded.
First change: Flight to our first state of visit had a delayed flight. What was to start our summer plans as a smooth flight to our first destination turned into patiently waiting at a terminal with our two youngest children while we listened in for another scheduled plane arrival.
Second change: With my youngest laying his head on my lap, asleep, I start to doze off for a much awaited rest on the plane. A sudden jerk from a higher altitude-challenged child in front of me led my ice water to subsequently creep through my clothes, right to my vulnerable skin, abruptly waking me as it poured and slowly trickled down my legs and into my seat. I get napkins from the attendant to pad my seat and pants, thankful that my son slept through the whole incident. No sleep for several hours on this flight for me.
Third change: Instead of a planned sit-down meal, we settled for a drive-thru breakfast to finally check-in after a long morning of waiting to catch up on rest. All that morning energy we had to walk around the downtown area of this city was surrendered to awaiting beds in our hotel for us to each silently crash on. We sleep. We shower. We revive.
Fourth change: Our menu plan for an early supper was now only for takeout due to pandemic changes. Determined to dine in at this restaurant of our planning, we made the choice to change our menu orders instead.
Fifth change: No tours available. Businesses around were clearly impacted by the pandemic and so, we were left to drive around and become our own tour guides to eventually end our “tour” at the one place that never fails- the mall.
Sixth change: On way to our next destination, we arrive at the airport two hours early to eat and have time to relax, only to find out, another delayed flight is canceled- not enough employees on board.
When you have had struggles in your life that was nowhere near the blessings to travel, dine, and stay in hotels, it is as if your heart, mind, body, and spirit are all at once saying, “Hush!”
You just breathe out a laugh. As long as there is no pain, the child in you can only see all as part of an adventure. There is this fire in you that never stopped burning from the time as a child and no matter the trials and tribulations, you listen to that still innocent voice inside of you that says, “This is fun!” So, when the adult in you endures stomps and stampeding by all the madness, it is the child in you that must take charge.
When you look through the eyes of the child (no matter how hard you have to dig), the wonderment of beauty in life can be seen all around. I could have used the word “found”, but beauty and life are usually not lost, just sometimes repositioned or disguised.
Under the scope of a child’s eyes, here is what I witnessed to embrace the opening of our summer. No matter how delayed the flight, my husband luckily had already rented a car prior to our arrival. While we didn’t take the time to dine in for breakfast, we were able to eat, sleep, and shower before stepping out to see the city.
The drive thru allowed boys to rest instead of dragging them into another restaurant just for the sake of another sit down meal. While there were no tours available, this allowed us much more needed rest and and eliminated any stress to meet scheduled times. Having the ability to tour the city on our own, we were given the freedom to drive through neighborhood communities, see homes and areas we would have never perhaps seen.
For our sit-down meal, we were able to test out other foods on the menu at this restaurant we had planned on just ordering a package, what would have limited us to just a taste of what this restaurant had to offer. Finally, seeing our delayed flight got canceled and having to go instead to customer service to see change options, I was quietly entertained by my husband whom I watched talking to all types of people throughout parts of the country while each party tried to figure out how to get back on a plane.
I was reminded how sweet the taste of rest can be, of the importance to plan, but just as equally-to be flexible, and ultimately, how beautiful the world is, filled with uniquely created people as one- sharing a moment in time.
The choice of patience rewarded with rest and peace. The flexibility to be open provided more opportunities. The movement and flow of oneness to find continuity led to conversations perhaps never to have taken place if opportunity had not been given.
The luminescence of moments to take in peace, laughter, and beauty. I found them through my eyes as a child. My heart smiled. I was reminded of the genuine man I married. He had rest, well able to converse with those around him, allowing me to hear him laugh from a distance as those around made small talk to pass time. I got the chance to watch my husband while our youngest boys peacefully (electronic game devices help!) waited next to me. This was all part of our adventure and we had just begun.
As I have found myself with multiple opportunities to see the world as ugly and unstructured, I am grateful for that voice inside that says to me, “Be joyful and rejoice!”
Challenges can be a pain, but follow life’s real constrictions and afflictions, challenges are just hurdles to jump over in a race. Real pain bleeds silently inside even after cuts have been sown or cauterized. Real pain take the heart, mind, and spirit to heal years after the body may have already moved on. If you allow, real pain can hurt for a lifetime, separating your soul between the spirit of a child to one simply grown.
Lashana Lynch as Izogie in the powerful movie, The Women King, described life’s truest hurts most succinctly, “It is enough to make you cry. But it is better to laugh. Yes?”
I have had hurts. I have dried up tears to laugh at those. When you’ve won not to lose yourself in such afflictions, those you never asked for or worked toward, there is no way blessings given you will be the time to choose to cry or complain.
Yes. Ugly and lack of structure continue to exist. Yes. As storms and thunder continue to exist, there will be opposition to peace and harmony. How are we to handle such?
Laugh. It is better. Yes?
