Spooky Tales

Then let the white-flaked logs burn low,

Lest those who drift before the storm

See gladness on our hearth and know

There is no flame can make them warm.

Hortense King Flexner

Leaves blow around, there is a chill in the air. Perfect night for sitting in front of the fire and sharing spooky tales with my nephews.

The best ghost stories are the scariest when there is a grain of truth woven in. Those are the stories that people will listen to . . . hanging on your every word.

There is enough mystery in life to keep us guessing.What is real? What is made up? The stories that keep me wondering are my favorite ones to think about.

Arizona Sunshine

Just back from a week in the desert. What a joy to visit there again!

Somehow it doesn't seem quite real to be back in Indiana, getting ready for school again this morning. I'm sure it will seem real when the children enter the building in a few hours.

Will have to keep the idea of the clear blue skies in my mind's eye to get me through the day.

October Full Moon

It goes by lots of names . . . Hunter's Moon, Harvest Moon, Blood Moon. I know that this one is a beauty. Shining bright these past couple of nights, glowing bright to light the night.

Last night I met with a couple of friends for our nearly every Wednesday gathering. The coming together of friends to talk, create, share a cup of tea and a sweet. We've done this nearly every week since May. Beth mentioned at another gathering that she wanted to start a study group to explore Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way. Three women who didn't know each other very well came together for the purpose of learning, introspection, art. The quest of life. What we found was that through our reading, our sharing, we enjoy our gatherings much more than we anticipated. It's a small group, but we've shared much. Daily life, dreams, hopes, fears, disappointments, successes. Once in awhile we miss a week because of travel, family commitments, work. But we miss each other during those off weeks and look forward to meeting again. We worked on a project last night. Beth taught us how to weave a small basket. Symbolic of the friendship we have, a safe place to hold our hearts.

One of the things we talked about last night was the full moon. The beauty of it this week. The difficulty each of us has had in getting to sleep. Can we blame the full moon for that? Seems the full moon gets blamed for that and other things . . . naughty children, extra crazy students, a stolen kiss, finding magic where we need it.

Trust

We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy.
~ Walter Anderson

Seems to be a lesson in this season of life for me . . . Trust. Of course, I've thought about it before. But it hasn't been a pervasive thought, more fleeting somehow.

It all started when I picked the word for a mixed media class. I had intentionally not taken anything with me to the class, leaving myself open to fully experience the class without a preconceived notion. The class was "Pass the Canvas." Jill instructed us to pick a word from the selections, one that we could use as inspiration for the piece. (Check out Jill’s work at: http://truoriginal.blogspot.com/search/label/art%20work) To be honest, I wasn't thrilled with the selection, but chose "trust." After all, that seemed fitting when we were to trust others with the work that was actually ours. To let the work evolve outside of my personal control, to let go, to expand a bit.

In late June Derrick and I rescued a white dove. (Though actually it is probably a lost homing pigeon.) We tried to find a home for it, but nothing felt right. So we’ve kept him, Henri, as part of our household. Not the easiest thing for a bird to coexist with two cats, lots of teenage boys, another international visitor, and me trying to manage it all at the same time. Yet it has seemed to be one of the best things I’ve done in a long time.

I turn to the symbolism of everything in my life. And what can be more symbolic than a white dove? When I tell the story of his rescue, and his presence in my life, my friends always say, “What do you think it means?” And I wonder. As usual, the answer comes in small pieces, woven into my story over time.

Henri is the epitome of living in the present moment. It appears as though he has no other place but in the now. He greets me with his cooing, gets excited about new seeds and water in his dish. He is happy when I go to sit with him on the patio to read or have an afternoon latte. It seems he even enjoys the attention of the cats, as long as they are safely far enough away from him, chattering as they do through the patio door. Watching all as the world goes by. I probably project way too much on him. But he calms my spirit whenever I sit with him or care for him. It’s a totally different experience than being with the kitties. It is the symbolic peace of the dove. He expects nothing, yet completely trusts that his needs will be provided.

I think of trust again. The word. As in the workshop, I have to learn to open up to others, Spirit, Life. To let go of the imagined control I have over my life. Do I live in a way that really trusts Spirit? Time and again I’ve been shown there is a place for me, for my talents in the world. The path has been laid down as if nearly paved in front of me at times. So why do I continue to guard my trust toward Spirit and others? True, my trust has been brutally broken by others at times. But the positives have far outweighed the negatives. And even those terrible times have resulted in wonders I never would have experienced if things had gone on without those times of broken trust. I think I place limits on my trust, I live in such a way as though I think I’ll reach my limit, as though the well will run dry, the sky has a ceiling. The reality is that there is no limit except that which I put there.

The other night I had a friend over for dinner. I hadn’t mentioned anything about Henri. Perhaps the critical voice of, “Why? You don’t need the extra work. It isn’t fair to keep a bird in a cage. . . .” was in the back of my mind. Yet, when I introduced Henri, the response was pure delight! Delighted in the story of the rescue, affirming that I did the right thing by bringing him in to care for him, giving me ideas about what to do with Henri in the upcoming cold season.

So again, I think about trust. Think that while for so long I’ve thought I was ready for love, maybe what I wasn’t ready for was trust. But maybe I am now. Ready to open up and allow myself to be vulnerable. Trust that someone else can hold my heart because of the simple fact that I let them. Trust that I am, in fact, worthy of receiving love in such a way.

I still wonder why Henri picked us as his heroes to save him when he was lost. Lessons come in the most amazing of ways.

Reflective Night

"A hundred years from now, it will not matter what kind of car I drove, what kind of house I lived in, how much money I had in the bank...but the world may be a better place because I made a difference in the life of a child." -- Forest Witcraft

Last night was the wedding of a colleague. She was one of the very first people I met when I moved to town for the teaching job. Even with the age difference, we were beginning teachers together. A special bond between the two of us. Two schools, six years, lots of children, laughter, struggles, growth and lessons later.

From the time I really knew N she was talking about, planning her wedding. Certainly worth it. What a lovely evening. Lots of fun, just like N. Ceremony brought a tear to her groom's eye. Dancing breaks into near craziness as she breaks tradition with her step father and dances like only N can. What fun. She even changed into a different dress to dance with reckless abandon.

Fun to spend an evening with colleagues and friends. Teaching friends over the years filled about 4 tables, catching up with people moved to different schools, paths going different directions. Laughing, dancing, silly pictures in a photo booth. Good times had by all.

Aside from the wedding, it was a time to reflect for me. Nothing new for me to reflect at a wedding. But this was different. This time I was reflecting on the progress I've made as a teacher these years. Two of the guests were the two principals from the boys and girls academies. The two principals that took a chance on me as a beginning teacher in an urban setting in a start up program. Me, the rather prim single mom from rural Indiana, moving into an environment I couldn't even imagine.

In a moment that I found myself alone with both S and D, I told them how meaningful it was for me to see them together. To have a chance to thank them for taking that chance on me those years ago. To let them know that I am grateful for the teacher I am because of their influence. To let them know that I've grown so much since the time I worked for them. Tears came to D's eyes as she said that's what being a life-long learner is all about. S said that one of the things he appreciated most about me as a teacher is my willingness to take constructive criticism, to take that and actually make the changes, not to act as though I knew more than he did. I told them both I wish they could see me teach now and see how much I've grown, so much as a result of what I learned by working with them. As S said, "You never know. It might happen someday." We briefly discussed the difficulties of public school these days, how politicians think they know how to run schools, the uncertainty of the future for all of us.

The one thing I do know is that I am in the right place as a teacher. And that as much as I've learned these past years professionally, I look forward to all that I will continue to learn in the future.

So as N and B start their newly married life together; new adventures, experiences, difficult and good times together, I look forward to continuing my journey as a teacher.

Labor Day Weekend harolds the end of summer. How can that be?! Seems summer just started. And then, it seems like nearly years ago already, so full of everything it was.

Favorite things I did this summer . . .

• Being at the Lake.
• Kayaking in the mornings.
• Walking in the evenings, just before dark.
• Laughing with friends.
• Wednesday evenings with The Artist's Way group.
• Meeting with friends at the Pub on Friday nights.
• Saturday afternoons at the sandbar.
• Making favorite dinners and snacks for Derrick.

Projects I worked on . . .

• Sewing some new clothes.
• Mixed media - two lovely pieces now housed at the Lake, plus one for my sister.
• Artist Trading Cards.
• Heart pillows for birthday gifts.
• Too bad I can't list all the great ideas I have floating around my mind as completed projects.
• Greeting cards.
• Index cards.

Happy moments . . .

• Watching Derrick graduate from high school.
• Spending time with Derrick and his friends at home. Even if my only role is simply to be present while they're hanging out.
• Being with the kitties. Even now they are on my desktop with me.
• Listening to my dove coo a greeting for breakfast or dinner.
• Full moons . . . a special one in June and another in July reflecting on the Lake.
• Listening to crickets sing me to sleep.
• Wide open windows on a cool evening.
• The smell of rain after a dry spell.

Favorite summer foods . . .

• Blueberry muffins, crumble, milkshakes.
• Margaritas.
• Mom's potato salad.
• Grilled brats.
• Dom's steak and ribs. (Hmm, even if I don't eat much meat, it's showing up here!)
• Somemores.
• Tomato, basil, mozzarella salads.
• Iced green tea.
• Cafe Latte in the morning as I write in my journal on the patio.
• Aunt Nita's chocolate cake. (She always brings it for the 4th of July gathering.)
• Kristen's special salsa.

School has been back in session for four complete weeks. So in a way it feels like summer has been over for awhile already. But summer always lasts in my heart until Labor Day Weekend.

Teach us to care and not to care. 

Teach us to sit still.

- T. S. Eliot

Today I am linking up with Gypsy Mama in the Five Minute Friday Challenge over at {in}courage. Today’s challenge is to take five short minutes to just write and then leave it be… no editing, no re-thinking it. Just writing for the love of it, for the love of written words, to become Word Artist. So here goes…

The art of patience while we are waiting. Waiting, yes, for the outcome of our desire. Waiting and trying to still the desire of the heart. Learning to let go of the outcome and simply let be what is to come.

I remember my dad said, years ago, "Patience isn't always a good thing." But what else can I do?

I try to still my heart while waiting for the answer. And remember that God rests in action. So I try to still my heart with the activity of these last days of summer. I make art with friends. I read and ponder words. I bake . . . cookies, bread, lavendar short-bread, angel food cake . . . to share with those I love. I sew, making new things to spark my life and to wear to a new school year.

Still, it is difficult to quiet my heart to the stillness, the peace it longs for. I wait.

Here is the link to check out others . . .

 http://www.incourage.me/2011/07/five-minute-friday-still.html