Tuesday Slice: The best things are invisible

The Book Nook rocking chair has been pulled over to the "learning side" of the library, where I can sit in front of the YouTube fireplace on our big touchscreen. Our usual schedule of story or lesson, then checkout, is flip-flopped each half-hour, allowing me to start reading a bit earlier while stragglers are still searching for books. 

I've been reading Auntie Claus and the Key to Christmas by Elise Primavera to my older students this week.  Most remember the first book from last year, and are happy to hear the sequel.  I do my best to make Auntie Claus sound eccentric and wise, the unbelieving Christopher a bit whiny and snarky, the Head Prune and Santa full and booming.

Christopher's motto is "I'll believe it when I see it."  Auntie Claus counters with "Sometimes you have to believe in order to see."

We have to believe in order to see...

Believe in the freshness of a new day, in order to see opportunities.
Believe in ourselves, in order to see our strengths.
Believe in our students, in order to see their possibilities.
Believe in our loved ones, in order to see them as individuals.
Believe in the value of all people, in order to see their worth. 
Believe in the magic of Christmas, in order to see the best in us.

The best things are invisible, until we choose to believe.   

Tuesday Slice: Lyrical memory

Fundraising on public television is purposefully, successfully annoying.  I became a member decades ago during a telethon, and with threats of government funding cuts looming once again, I understand the need to drum up support.  Oh, but I was annoyed at the breaks during the recent airing of a modern take on "Jesus Christ, Superstar".

They were interrupting a memory.

It was the late 70s?  Early 80s? The cassette was a gift from my mother's brother, a classical music aficionado.  I remember the plain brown liner paper with the yellow logo--the 1970 recording.  He copied off the lyrics for me, too. I must have played that tape a hundred times on my boombox, singing along, thrilled when I could match the tempo of the fast-paced songs.  

Despite our near-regular attendance of Sunday Mass, it was my first real introduction to Mary Magdalene.  I remember wondering why we heard so little about her in CCD classes; I see now that it planted the seed for my search for Feminine Divine in the patriarchal trappings of the conventional Church.

So yes, I was annoyed at the breaks, even as I compared these latest singers to the soundtrack in my head (and found them lacking; the 1970 recording is still my favorite).  I may just have to hunt down a new copy and relive a memory or two.  
  

Tuesday Slice: Liberation

I have found that among its other benefits,

giving liberates the soul of the giver.

--Maya Angelou

It was so easy to get caught up in online shopping last week.  Without my usual work prep or hours in the library, I could and did spend hours clicking through sale emails, typing in coupon codes, perusing the piles of catalogs that arrived daily.  

Without fail, at some point within each shopping excursion I found myself looking at gifts not for others, but for myself.  Oooh, those shoes would go great with the sweater I just got, and now they're thirty percent off...  Free shipping limits prompted the rationalization of "something for them, something for me", just to save eight or nine dollars.  

I realized just how much online shopping I did when I made a list and counted the packages to be delivered--nineteen, in all.

I should feel liberated, with the pile of gifts to be given growing with every visit from the USPS, UPS, FedEx, and Amazon delivery people.  Several purchases were made to support friends' small businesses, and that did feel good, buying gifts while furthering their pursuits. But that doesn't stop the twinge of guilt I feel as I open each box and realize how much is staying right here, these items that lured me in with their double-digit discounts.

This morning, I'm focusing on the moments of liberation I have experienced these past few days:  giving a gift card to a stranger in need; unsubscribing from dozens of retail email lists and deleting hundreds of emails from my inbox; realizing that items I purchased for myself really aren't working out, and knowing just the right person who would enjoy them.  I've joined a "clearing space" Facebook group started by a friend, and threw dozens of catalogs in the recycle bin.  My New Year will bring a renewed effort to curb needless spending.

I'm feeling liberated, just thinking about it.

Tuesday Slice: The holidays are different...and that's okay

We're dining out for Thanksgiving this year.  Seems to be an every-other-year event.  It's nice to enjoy the food and the company, but I do miss the leftovers.  We bought pared-down versions of our usual Thanksgiving meal to cook next weekend, just to have some turkey, stuffing, and cranberry jelly in the fridge.

Christmas will be different, too.  Our daughter and new-ish son-in-law will be joining us three days after Santa's usual visit.  You don't know how steeped in traditions your holiday is until you try to negotiate them on an altered timetable.  Does Santa still visit on the 25th?  Does Santa visit at all?  Do we open some of our gifts on the 25th, or all of them later, together?  Will the kids want to bake Jesus' birthday cake together--we all know the 25th really isn't his birthday, anyway--or will the youngest fly solo with that tradition again, so Santa has a piece on his usual night?  

We're letting our grown-up children answer most of those questions.  Our daughter wants her Japanese husband to experience the "Christmas crazy" in our house, as she's come to describe it from afar.  I don't know if I can just let the 25th go by without some of that Christmas magic happening; I'd rather celebrate twice.  Their father and I haven't talked about that yet.

Yes, the holidays will be different this year.  But the best parts remain the same--family, friends, and good food.  We are blessed, and grateful, and ready to celebrate together, no matter the location or the date on the calendar.

Tuesday Slice: The ball in the box

Lauren Herschel's Tweet showed up in my social media.

My button has been pushed often this week.

The triggers--

       a friend lost a father

       a friend remembering her mother

       grandparents proudly sharing photos

       the upcoming holidays

       my shopping genes, and

       the resulting clutter

No tears were shed.  My thoughts were selfish, really--

       empathetic thoughts (I know what it's like to lose a parent)

       I've been a motherless daughter for twenty-three years

       my mom only got to grandparent for three years (does the last one even count?)

       my mom would know how to handle the holidays this year

       my mom would share in my shopping "victories"

       my mom would help me decide what to keep and what to release

       my mom would

       my mom

       mom

I went to sleep last night 

with that three-letter word 

full of love and loss 

lingering on my lips.       

Tuesday Slice: Double whammy

We have a delayed start this morning due to icy road conditions.

And there's a full moon.

A double whammy for us teacher types.  Many students were already off-kilter yesterday as the front blew in at noon.  We dropped twenty degrees in an hour.  By quitting time, the raindrops played a staccato wind-driven beat on my windshield, a backdrop for my surprise of forty-one degrees on the dashboard readout.  I knew when the phone rang at 10pm with an 877 prefix that the district was robo-calling.  I left my bed with a whoop of happiness to inform my husband of my delayed start.

Cold weather energizes me.  I love hunkering down with a warm drink in hand and getting productive.  It was the first evening in ages that I crossed nearly everything off my to-do list.

This morning, I slept in an extra forty-five minutes.  I'll drink an extra cup of coffee as I check the late-start schedule, and answer emails about missed library visits.  I'll get a decent workout, without the excuse of too little time.  And then I'll steel myself for classes who have had indoor recess, and students who don't handle changes in the routine well, especially under a full moon.  

Tuesday Slice: They miss the library

Have you seen this meme floating around the Internet?  It's from one of our local restaurants.

As an elementary school librarian, I don't have to chase the high.  It chases me down twice a year.

I just wrapped up running my thirteenth book fair.

I say "wrapped up", because the carts and boxes are packed and ready for pick up, taking up a sizable chunk of real estate on the reading side of the library.  They don't get picked up until Thursday.  It will probably take another week for me to finish the financial forms, get a check disbursed, and truly wrap up the fair.

I am grateful for the outpouring of support from the volunteers (and an artsy assistant) who turned the library into a bookstore wonderland this week.

I am grateful to my administrators for supporting our efforts, to my colleagues for allowing students to shop in the middle of the day, to parents braving before school "rush hour", standing in line at our three registers to buy the books their children wished for.  The funds raised from the fair will help pay for author visits and books for our students.

What am I most grateful for?

My favorite question this week:

"Ms Margocs, when do we get to come back to the library to check out books?"  

Tuesday Slice: The chain

The tradition started years before I had children of my own.  

Number recognition and comprehension was an oft-cited IEP goal for my resource students, and holiday celebrations were a bright spot in our school year; somehow, I got the idea to make a hundred-day countdown to Christmas.  Our classroom countdown consisted of a number line, hand-drawn and measured out on several sentence strips, posted above our door and down the hall.  Each day we would step out and attach a construction-paper holly leaf and berry over the next largest number.  The kindergarten teachers from around the corner would pause on their way to lunch each day and have their students read the last number showing, too.

I quit teaching when I got pregnant with our firstborn. Our preemie was quite verbal by the age of two, and by three was asking the requisite number of questions that preschoolers must ask every day (somewhere in the hundreds, I think). When the timing of Christmas came up, I decided to resurrect the countdown in the form of a paper chain, with a loop taken off each night.  

"How many days until Christmas, Mommy?"
"Is the chain short or long, honey?"
"It's long."
"Then it's a long time until Christmas."

After a few years of making and remaking the paper chain, I got the bright idea to use pipe cleaners...and our chain got more elaborate.  The days until Halloween are orange and black circles; Halloween to Thanksgiving, brown and gold; Thanksgiving to Christmas, red and green.  Sometimes the last ring is a fancy mix of the two colors.  The chain is hung over the children's bedrooms from pushpins that never come down, a parade of colorful loops taking up that side of the hallway.  It must be adjusted every ten days or so, as the dangling end gets too high to remove a loop.

Our children are grown now, one in Japan, the other in college four hours up the road.  But every September 16th, I'm compelled to make the chain, if only for my own countdown needs.  I take a loop off each night, mentally noting the length remaining, marking the time until we celebrate as a family once again.

Tuesday Slice: Stellar solitude

I slip into a sweatjacket over my workout clothes
Quietly closing the front door behind me

Hands cupped around a warm mug of lime water
My toes in flipflops encounter the chill

I pad into and down the street
Away from the influence of street and porch lights

Head tilted back, scanning the sky
For signs of moving targets

I squint at the crescent moon
My level gaze landing upon Orion

Smile at the Hunter, my constant companion
His shoulders and scabbard burning bright

I see no streaks of light.

Shrug my own shoulders
Take one last look at the stellar display

I sip at my mug
Walk back to my door, shattered pecans popping underfoot.

Tuesday Slice: Things I don't miss

The schools in our district are on day two (of two) of parent conference/ staff development days.  Yesterday, freed from an anticipated task on campus, I had a day to catalog books, answer emails, complete my benefits open enrollment, work on library finances a bit, chat with colleagues, and finagle last-minute author visit details, including a major snafu involving the author's books we ordered.  I am coordinating that visit for four campuses, and the book problem affected us all.

The last of those items had my blood pressure boiling as I left work.  I know this to be true because I checked my blood pressure on the machine at the grocery store pharmacy while I waited to get my flu shot.  I haven't seen it that high since I was delivering my son twenty-some-odd years ago.

While I was venting over my morning's change of plans (I could have been at another library event) and dealing with the book orders, my teacher colleagues were cycling through one conference after another.  The upper grades were running student-led, two-part conferences.

I don't miss parent conferences, the frustration of no-shows and confrontations.  I don't miss grading (mostly done at home), or writing and updating IEPs, or detailed lesson planning for the multi-levels of learning in my previous resource room.    

I do miss my former students.  But I have over twelve hundred students now, each deserving of my attention in the library.  It's a joy to teach information literacy and connect kids with books and stories that light up their imaginations and hearts.  I get to support my colleagues in ways I couldn't as a teacher.

Despite the blood-boiling events of yesterday, I don't miss the old days.  They just made me better at being the teacher-librarian  I am today.  

Tuesday Slice: Out of sync

Eight days into October
To-do list grows daily
Time being swallowed
in large bites by meetings
and projects and fundraisers
committees and deadlines

The urge to yell "STOP" is strong
To stick to the basics:
A good night's sleep
Drink coffee, exercise
Teach, plan lessons, leave work after nine hours
Return home, time and energy to spare
for housekeeping, cooking, reading,
breathing fresh air,
personal plans and pursuits


It's October, and I feel out of sync. 

****
We've been talking a bit about "Shocktober" in my teaching circles.  For varied reasons, this month is heavy on work obligations, making it harder for a work-life balance.

Tuesday Slice: Facing my money issues

I have a date with a spreadsheet on the last day of each month.  We're getting serious, this spreadsheet and me, meeting for eight months now.  I'm thinking long-term relationship.

Our trysts last for about an hour.  I pull up my accounts--bank, loans, credit cards, retirement--and enter the numbers in cells.  Some go in assets, others in debits.  I know enough about spreadsheets to make the magic of addition and subtraction happen automatically. 

We've had our ups and downs.  I'm still cringing when I stare at the credit card numbers, my shopping habits on display.  (What this spreadsheet doesn't know is that I'm two-timing it.  While my weight goes down, charted on a colorful spreadsheet hung on a wall by my scale, my spending has gone up--one bad habit replacing another.)  But then I look at my loan amounts, steadily decreasing, and my savings, on the rise little by little.  I note once again that my retirement amount isn't accurate because website is under renovation and the information is frozen until they complete the update.

The final number crunch ends our meeting on a high note, my net worth growing from one month to the next.  It's a cautious celebration; my credit score has room for improvement.  The spreadsheet and I part ways, to meet again in four weeks.

Image from Pixabay, no attribution required.

Tuesday Slice: White rose

Early Saturday morning, just barely on time for my shift.  I walked down the postpartum hallway, door after door decorated with pink and blue flowers and streamers.  "Must have been a busy week for everyone here," I thought to myself.  Looking ahead, a police officer in black leaned against the wall to the right, the unusual detail catching my attention. He returned my nod and a quiet good morning as I veered right, taking the upward-climbing hallway that led to the NICU.

It's been busy in the NICU the last two weekends, since the Friday the 13th full moon.  I divided my three-hour shift between two babies, holding and shushing and rocking them to sleep.

Relieved of my duty by the next volunteer, I made my way back down the sloping hallway.  Coming to the intersection at the postpartum ward, I noticed the police officer was gone.

There was a single white rose, attached with blue tape to the door across from where he had stood.

A white rose, in a hallway filled with pink and blue.  I paused, said a silent prayer for the mother, for her loss, and drove home in silence.

Tuesday Slice: Family

fam·i·ly

/ˈfam(ə)lē/

noun

1.  a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.

synonyms: household, ménage

2.  all the descendants of a common ancestor.

"the house has been owned by the same family for 300 years"

synonyms: ancestry, parentage, birth, pedigree, genealogy, background, family tree, descent, lineage, line, line of descent, bloodline, blood, extraction, derivation, race, strain, stock, breed

adjective

designed to be suitable for children as well as adults.

"a family newspaper"

(Google dictionary)

What can divide a family:

Geography

Religion/ politics

Culture

Abuse

Anger

What can connect a family:

Technology

Civility

Traditions

Apologies/ therapy

Love

Tuesday Slice: Before 5am

It's been a day already, even before 5am.

I finally went to sleep last night at a decent hour (930p!)...only to be awakened once, twice, three times a leg cramp. (Apologies to Lionel Ritchie.)

My few minutes of meditation were filled with thoughts of three separate families in my circles currently battling cancer, one with a spouse in the hospital, and one in my neighborhood starting over from a house fire.  Meditation quickly turned into prayer.

My Fitbit wouldn't sync, I had to restart my computer, my email won't refresh on my phone.  Precious minutes wasted trying to get all that working, so I could post this Slice. 

But...

In a few minutes, I'm going to spend time stretching these muscles, which still work.

I have coffee on board, to help ease the sleepiness.

I can continue to support those in need, and be thankful for my own family's health and home.

The tech finally synced and booted up (email still won't refresh, sigh).

And in two hours, there will be students and teachers relying on my support in the library.

Let's get on with this day, shall we?

Tuesday Slice: Sub plans, Parts two & three

Last week, I wrote about having to write sub plans due to jury duty summons.  I compared teaching to other professional jobs which, to the best of my knowledge, don't have to write sub plans prior to taking a day off.  A comment was made that in some positions, you don't get paid when you miss a day; a true statement, one that makes me glad to have a salaried position that allows for jury duty without financial penalty.

But back to the need for sub plans.  If we need even more evidence that teaching is an important job, then the need for sub plans should suffice.  Making sub plans means that what we are doing for our students is important and should be continued in our absence.  Sub plans show that we value continuity and the classroom routines that allow our students to learn efficiently and safely.

If anyone questions the importance of our profession and the value of teachers...don't forget to include sub plans as part of your answer.

********************

About that jury duty...I did make it downtown, early enough to snag a free juror's parking spot across the street from the courthouse.  I worried about bringing a water bottle past security, but they waved it through.  I was greeted by a cheerful clerk sitting at the door of the courtroom, who assigned me a number and directed me to a table of clipboards with forms to fill out.  She frequently came in as more people arrived, telling us to spread out to the tables at the front and make ourselves comfortable.

As the judge entered the room, she directed the two dozen of us to arise--and the judge good-naturedly cut her off, telling us to stay seated.  Judge Thomas then proceeded with instructing us about the nature of this court (Class C infractions, no jail time, financial penalties only), the importance of not using our cell phones in the trial (we needed to be fully present and aware of all the facts being presented), and the importance of our presence.  He explained that there were a couple of cases being deliberated next door, and it was the very presence of a jury that was spurring the opposing parties to settle their cases rather than face us.

The judge left us to monitor the proceedings.  Not long after, he reappeared to let us know the cases had been settled; there would be no trials, and we would be dismissed.  Before doing so, he spoke fervently on the importance of voting, and how easily we can be disenfranchised from doing so by the misspelling of a name on our voter registration card, or changing our address.  He encouraged us to update our cards if need be, at the clerks' windows downstairs.  

My call time for duty was 1:30p.  We were dismissed by 2:15p.  I had gone to jury duty with a bit of a sour attitude, but the clerk's pleasantries and Judge Thomas' explanation of our role as jurors--even if we don't go to trial--and his passionate belief in our democratic processes lifted my spirits.  And you can bet I'll be voting in the next election.

Tuesday Slice: Sub plans, part one

There should be another box to check on jury summons, one especially for educators that says "Fulfilling the summons would require me to write sub plans.  Therefore, I cannot attend."

I am not against fulfilling my civic duty.  Okay, I am against it a little due to the fact that it requires me to drive downtown and deal with downtown traffic, something I've managed to avoid in almost every job I've held.

And I am a lot against it due to sub plans.  It took me the better part of three hours to write the plans for a day-and-a-half of absence--and that's with a library assistant for the sub to rely on.  There are two kindergarten, three first grade, five second grade, six third grade, six fourth grade, and one fifth grade class coming to the library during that time.  Half have a lesson or read-aloud.  The lessons require technology and knowledge of genres.  The read-aloud is supposed to prompt discussion about the inclusivity of schools and the ethics of kindness.  There will be lots and lots of books coming and going through our circulation desk.

My assistant will do most of the heavy lifting, and she'll be great.  But I'm sad she's put in this position.  Teaching is one of the few professions, if not the only, I can think of that requires sub plans.  Do lawyers submit sub plans?  Doctors (other than their usual orders)?  Plumbers?  Hairdressers?  Army generals?  I'm pretty sure my quality control inspector husband didn't have to submit sub plans when he had jury duty, or sick leave, or just took a day off for the heckuvit.

Now that the sub plans are done, I can show up for jury duty with a slightly better attitude.

Emphasis on slightly.

Tuesday Slice: My first day of school

The students have been back since last Thursday.  I've been greeted with smiles and hugs and finger waves in the hallways.  Teachers have told me their classes are champing at the bit to get into the library.  (Our mascot is a stallion, so the idiom fits.)

Today, we open the doors for class visits.  Promptly at eight am, two third grade classes will arrive for a quick orientation lesson on Nearpod, then let loose with shelf markers in hand to check out books.  They will be followed by a stream of kindergarteners and first graders, who will listen to read-alouds of We're Going on a Book Hunt and The Shelf Elf . Another round of third grade, and then second grade to end our day.

There are still items to catalog, a table to clear, and my office to clean up.  My wonderful assistant is making visual signage, but we may have to shift that soon when a minor remodeling project takes place.  I have yet to make firm lesson plans past next week.

Ready or not, the readers are coming!

Tuesday Slice: Five things I used to think

Five things I used to think:

1)  I used to think that planning out every minute of my day meant that I had control over my life.  And then my firstborn arrived fourteen weeks before my planner said she was due.  I quickly realized that the saying "we plan, and God laughs" just might be true.  I didn't touch a planner for six months afterward.  I still plan, but leave lots of room for God's sense of humor.

2)  I used to think that racism was a thing of the past, having grown up in a home without racial epithets and on diverse military bases.  And then I went to college, and heard it with my own ears, saw it with my own eyes.  I still do, and it makes me sad.

3)  I used to think that in many ways, I screwed up as a mother.  I still think I did, but now that my kids are young adults and thriving, I think that my good moments outweighed the bad ones.  Either that, or my kids have really good coping skills.

4)  I used to think of the Church as a family home when I was younger, a constant in our military lifestyle.  Then we moved into a parish that was blatantly misogynistic and unwelcoming of our Masonic participation, and the foundation of that home started to crack.  Then the pedophile scandals broke loose, and more evidence of domineering patriarchy in my own parish...it no longer felt like home.  But that's okay, because God is everywhere.

5)  I used to think I had to know everything, do everything on my own.  But then I married a man who is great at the things I'm not, like fixing stuff and killing large bugs in the house.  He's a great dad, too, which is probably why our kids turned out okay.

I'm sure if I really thought about it, there are a lot of things I used to think but don't anymore.  I hope that I never stop learning.

**************************  

I love the raw, honest humor of Beth Woolsey .  Her acceptance of our flawed humanity while we strive to be better people just makes me feel better.  This Slice is inspired by one of her recent posts, "10 Things I Used to Think...What About You?"

Tuesday Slice: Places past, shattered

I came of age at that mall
Wearing lip gloss and tight jeans
Got an ear pierced 
Watched movies
Shopped for school clothes
Sang in the bar with friends
   over a pitcher of beer

************

I had never been that far north
Until a boyfriend invited me
A whirlwind road trip--a day up, and
A day back, his uncle proclaiming 
(behind our backs)
That I would be the one for him
He was right


El Paso, Texas was my father's last Army post. I spent the last three years of my high school there, before heading east to college in Austin.

My husband is a native Ohioan.  His home city of Cleveland so far from Dayton, yet still jarring to see his mourning state featured in the news.

This past week has pulled at the heartstrings connecting us to those places.

Tuesday Slice: Observations on the week past

1.  I had a conversation with a friend who was lamenting over the state of our country, based on the news and social media she consumed.  While I agreed with what she was seeing in the news, I reminded her that the headlines did not show the whole picture of our country, the day-to-day acts of compassion and kindness that I see around me.  

I was reminded of something I read in one of Christiane Northrup's books decades ago--we are not physiologically capable of handling constant negative news without negative effects on our body, mind, and spirit.  A downside of this Information Age is that we are inundated with news which doesn't directly impact us, over which we have little to no control.  My friend was having a hard time walking the fine line between staying informed and feeling overwhelmed.  I told her to read the headlines, ignore the talking heads, and take a break from the news every now and then and use the time to pay more attention to the good stuff that was going on.  

Here's a more recent article about the negative effects of too much news consumption.

2.  I was referred to as "grandmotherly" this past week, for the first time ever.  It was meant as a compliment, and I took it as such...but it gave me pause.  I felt like I had just been invited to a secret circle, one crone acknowledging another, marking me as a woman of experience.  Trying on this new identity may take a little while, but I'm enjoying the process.

3.  I've "adulted" fairly well this week.  I participated in an online workshop about money, got kudos from my doctor at my annual physical, presented some professional development, and prepared to present a bit more.  I caught up with an old friend, the kind with whom three-hour-long conversations go by in a blink.  I spent quality time with my college-boy.  I'm setting my big goals and forming action plans.  I'm making peace with the tasks I didn't complete this summer as I head into my first day of work today. 

What gave you pause this past week?       

Tuesday Slice: A messy start

Two weeks ago, I wrote about setting big goals before setting SMART goals, since it's the big goals that motivate us.

Last week, I wrote about feeling discombobulated, not quite reaching that relaxed summer vibe educators aspire to in order to recharge for the coming school year.

Since the last post, I started working on setting those big goals, using a planner specifically meant to make you dig through the "stuff" of your life and focus in on what really matters.  (The planner is from the "Cultivate What Matters" website, if you'd like to take a peek at it.)  

It's a bit of work; I've watched five of the six short videos the founder, Lara Casey, made to guide you through the prep work--sixty-seven pages of thinking and writing and filling in sentences, of which I've completed forty-three so far.  I'll admit that at first, it felt a bit self-defeating.  What was really important for me--health, relationships, home, finances, energy--came up time and time again, and I had to face how I was lacking in those areas.

Casey doesn't see the deficits as negatives, though--she frames them as the dirt needed for us to grow and bloom.  It's the old you-need-to-know-where-you-are-before-you-know-where-you're-going lesson, setting the baseline, marking your starting point.

How else are you going to know how far you've progressed, unless you can look back and see where the journey began?

Two of my big goals for the upcoming six months are time management (SMART goal--leave work by 4:45p each day) and health (SMART goals of 7 hours of sleep each night, healthy eating, and exercise).  I think focusing on these and other big goals will have positive effects on my energy level at work--and hopefully avoid the feeling of dissatisfaction next summer.

Educator readers, what goals are you setting for yourself this coming school year?

Tuesday Slice: Discombobulated

discombobulated

/ˌdiskəmˈbäbyəˌlādəd/

Learn to pronounce

adjective

HUMOROUS

adjective: discombobulated

1. confused and disconcerted.

   "he is looking a little pained and discombobulated"

--Google search result

I never really achieved a summer mindset this year

Work tasks always looming, even if left undone

Decluttering my house, not a favorite pastime

Too many decisions to be made to be enjoyable

There were a few hours, here and there

Where I lived in the present moment

Enjoying the company I kept

Swept up in the conversations

Morning meditations of mere minutes

When I focused on my breathing, the ticking of the clock

Present, until a rude thought interjected

Often a snarky reminder of some unfinished project

My Achilles' heel-- a propensity to procrastinate 

Especially when overwhelmed, or feeling put out

As the marching on of time gets louder

Trampling over the anxiety, the resentment

Forcing me to complete some tasks, meet others' deadlines

But the discontent still lingers

With no one to blame but myself

Summer coming to an end, with little to show for it.

************************************

It was easy to plan summers when my children were little.  They were filled with places to go--parks and playgrounds, the library, the neighborhood pools.  We visited museums, monuments, and out-of-town family.  I didn't schedule every waking minute, but planned enough activities to fill their summer weeks with arts and crafts, music, reading, and outdoor time.  It was fun, and relaxing, making memories together.

As I'm writing this out, I realize...I need to do this for myself.  Now if only I can remember to do so, in the busy-ness of the school year, and that mad end-of-year rush that leaves us breathless and discombobulated as we slide into our summer break.  I'll print this out and stick it in the March section of my planner, so I don't feel the need to write a repeat of this post next July.

Tuesday Slice: Big thinking vs SMART

When  the same idea presents itself to me from three different directions, I consider it a cosmic slap on the face:  it's time to stop and pay attention.  

I read it once, and thought, "Eh, I don't even know where to start."  So I skipped those pages in Leonie Dawson's Shining Life workbook.  For several years.

I read it again, and thought, "Surely, it's a waste of time.  I need to focus on what I can get done now."  But I bought the Cultivate What Matters goal-setting planner anyway; it was on sale.

I heard it again in Ruth Soukup's webinar on "Balanced Productivity".  And then I thought, "Ahhh, that makes sense."  And bought her Living Well, Spending Less planner for 2020.  (It was on sale, too.)

So what is this idea that took me by the shoulders and gently shook me awake?

We need BIG goals before we set SMART goals.

We need something to strive for, get excited about,  rattle our nerves a bit.  You know, the same feelings you got when you started your first days of elementary, middle, high school.  The feeling when you were exploring colleges and careers.  Heck, even when you purchased your first vehicle, or decided to get married or have a child.

Each of those events were BIG, life changing opportunities for growth.  Looking back, I don't recall actually writing down "I want to go to college", except maybe on a survey in high school.  And someone else laid out the SMART steps for me:  talk to the counselor, take the SAT, get your applications in on time.  The BIG goal was always there at the forefront, spurring me on to complete those SMART steps.

It's not the SMART goals that keep us going.  It's the BIG goal that gets us motivated to complete those small steps to the finish--though I hate to say "finish", because the BIG goal could be the beginning of something even greater.  The bigger the goal, the scarier it seems, the bigger the smile you get when you think about it--the better.  Keep them in plain sight every day, and set those SMART goals to get there.

As for myself, it's a lot more exciting to think of renovating our home than to constantly think of decluttering; going on a vacation is more exciting that saving money each month.  But in each case, the latter must happen before the former.  So I'm off to write some BIG goals, followed by some SMART steps.

Tuesday Slice: When will I learn?

Once again, I went to sleep too late.

Once again, I turned off the alarm, said to myself "It's summer, sleep in."

Once again, I am still in pajamas at 10a, whiling away the coolest part of the day indoors when I should be walking, gardening, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine that I so desperately crave at this time of the day in August and September, April and May.

Once again, I've put too much on my to-do list for the day, knowing full well I'll only complete a third of it, at best.

Once again, I've borrowed and purchased books to read, knowing full well my to-read pile is already several years long.

Once again, I've purchased clothes I don't need, a weight-loss program I could probably do on my own.

BUT...

That weight loss program may just be the kick in the seat I need to get healthier, and those clothes may make me feel better about how I look in the meantime.

The books at home AND the books I've just gotten are all at my fingertips, ready to be enjoyed, learning to be gained.

Even completing a third of my tasks is better than none at all, and moves me forward.

Sometimes it is okay to be in pajamas at 10a, after ten months of being three hours into work by this time.  The summer sun will be up for awhile yet, still time to throw on those walking shoes and head out the door (though it might already be too hot for gardening).

It was nice to catch the tail end of a dream, instead of waking up in the middle of one.

Tonight is another chance at an early bedtime, which means tomorrow is another chance at waking with the alarm.

All is not lost.