Thursday, February 3, 2022

Spiritual Journey Thursday: The heart of the matter

 
This month's Spiritual Journey prompt is provided by Linda Mitchell, who posted her own thoughts here.

When Linda told us the crux of our prompt would be "heart", an earworm immediately wriggled into my thoughts.

These lines seem so apropo right now:

"These times are so uncertain
There's a yearning undefined
People filled with rage
We all need a little tenderness
How can love survive in such a graceless age?
Ah, the trust and self-assurance that lead to happiness
They're the very things we kill, I guess
Oh, pride and competition
Cannot fill these empty arms
And the work I put between us, you know it doesn't keep me warm

I've been tryin' to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"
Songwriters: Don Henley / John David Souther / Mike Campbell
The Heart of the Matter lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc
(I took liberties with a switch in the stanzas)

The heart of the matter..."heart books"--what I tell students who are about to check out a book that will pull at their emotions, as in "This book is going to be a heart book, with some strong feelings."
The heart of the matter...Valentine hearts, decorating the library, going out into the mail soon, posted on doors and social media.
The heart of the matter...forgiveness and grace in this pandemic. A stern glance of disagreement, instead of a shout. A tongue held, instead of rebuke. A comment erased, before hitting "post".
These days, my heart is weary, seeking solace in quiet predawn hours, at midday during unmasked lunches and virtual read-alouds in my office, afternoons birdwatching through my kitchen window.  There is the joy of interacting with curious children and the teachers who care for them.  There is the peace of a good night's rest, after listing thoughts of gratitude before sleeping.
Moments of solace, joy, and peace coexisting with constant heaviness.  That is where my heart is at on this spiritual journey.

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Tuesday Slice: Writer's woes

 


I am writing my Slices on Monday nights these days, to free up a bit of time on Tuesday mornings for reading and exercise.  If you can call it reading and exercise; just a few pages read each day from self-improvement material, and moving my body in some fashion for fifteen minutes, trying not to sweat too much in my pajamas.

I have been sitting at my computer for twenty-five minutes, trying on three different ideas and scrapping them all.  Not enough details in a memory for one; another isn't really my story to tell; and yet another is wearisome to write--literally wearisome, as I pondered a treatise on just how tired I am these days.

I am missing creative time.  I've had crocheting on my to-do list for months, and yet haven't managed to hook a row since before the holidays.  Paint and canvases sit untouched; materials are gathered for a Mod Podge project, gathering dust.  I haven't even been singing much, as allergies, library lessons, and read-alouds have left my throat subject to a tickle, leading to a cough.  (Yes, I've been tested for you-know-what.)  I did complete a curly-headed woman for a bulletin board, but that was more mindless twirling of construction paper around a pencil than outright creativity.

Since exhaustion seems to be the cause of this malaise, maybe a good solid weekend in bed might help...if I can do so without feeling guilty about the projects I'm not getting done...

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Tuesday Slice: They see me, and think of books

 


They see me
and think of books.

Books in their backpack
they need to return.

Books I recommended
that they really like

or don't.

Books they've lost, or damaged
with money owed.

Books we've read together, voting after 
with thumbs up-sideways-down

because it's important to know what you like.

Books that are their favorites
that I've put in special places.

Books returned in carts, and
books they get to keep.

Books they will meet because
 "Today we have library!"

and I am the lucky librarian.

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Tuesday Slice: FOMO vs FOCO, another COVID diary entry


FOMO: Fear Of Missing Out
FOCO:  Fear Of COvid

I have to make a decision soon about attending our state's annual library conference.  It was canceled two years ago, virtual last year, and is planned for in-person this April. 

Reading through the conference health and safety protocols is not reassuring me.  Yes, they are requiring proof of vaccination or a negative test just prior.  But...  Masks are encouraged,  not mandatory. Presentation room caps are vague. Banquet arrangements don't seem to be different from past events. 

At school, subs are in short supply.  This translates to the probability that if I attend the conference,  the library will be closed for four days while I'm gone.

I love what I have learned from this conference in years past. There's the FOMO.

I haven't eaten inside a restaurant since March 2020. There's the FOCO.

Which will win out?

*****
Postscript diary entry:
Talking heads outside of the educational field who pontificate on the effects of learning loss on the future economy and advocate for full return to the way things were in schools make me scream at the television.
 
COVID is the problem, learning loss is a result. We ARE back in person, and are dealing with the fallout of sick students, sick staff, and no subs. Teachers are working in a viral environment (in more ways than one),  and it is taking its toll.

Fix this pandemic, and the learning will happen again. Stop pointing fingers at the educational system, and start focusing on how to keep everyone healthy enough to teach and learn.

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Tuesday Slice: I'm just not there yet--another COVID diary entry

 

I'm Just Not There Yet

People in my circles 
are catching COVID
my Facebook newsfeeds
and text messages on my phone
filled with the sighs of the quarantined
thankfully, just sighs
as the triple vaccinations
do their job
leaving hospital beds unclaimed
by these people I cherish.

Many of the sighs come on the heels
of large family gatherings
trips on planes and friendly reunions
pictures of crowded bars
with glasses raised
and barefaced smiles.

I look at those stories
those pictures
they seem so foreign to me
as if they come from
another planet, 
unburdened by pandemic,
a silent "What are they thinking?"
throbbing in my head, on my tongue
I do not wish this illness on anyone
so I mute my thoughts
"like" the stories and pictures
because I hope
their momentary happiness
was worth their sighs
and know that 
even my avoidance
of such blithesome carousing
may not be enough
 to keep me from the same lament. 


Thursday, January 6, 2022

Spiritual Journey Thursday: My OLW--Believe

 


Margaret Simon is leading our Spiritual Thursday this month, and has tasked us with thoughts on our One Little Word.  Her prompt post can be found here.

Like Margaret, I've been choosing a word for a yearly theme/ lens/ focus for awhile.  Some years I had to ponder for days before it came to me.  This year, it landed in my lap, literally, on the cover of my Plum Paper planner.

Believe.

It wasn't only on the planner.  It was popping up in memes on my social media, in the goal planning work I was doing, in personal growth and Spirit books I was reading.

My epiphany, written on this Epiphany, was discovering the most likely reason my yet-achieved goals haven't changed much for several years.

I didn't believe they could be accomplished.  Truly believe, deep down.  And that had to happen before the goals would be met.

Mind you, my 2022 to-do list is very mundane stuff.  Saving money, losing weight, moving my body, decluttering the house.  The problems had been around for so long that at some level, I accepted them as the status quo.  I didn't believe things could change, so they didn't.

So my focus this year is to truly believe that my goals can be accomplished.  Believe that I can do the work.  Believe that the changes will have a positive impact on my life and my family's.  Believe that at some point, this pandemic will become manageable, and we'll be able to go on a vacation without the underlying anxiety of viral spread.

It's not easy, this believing, when faced with the numbers on my scale, the piles of clutter, the nightly news.  But it will be worth it, I think.


Here's to believing in a better year ahead.


Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Tuesday Slice: And.....I'm back...sort of.


 I decided to take a break from Slicing, and a month went by in the blink of an eye.

The week that I decided to take a break, I was drowning.  I had been sick the weekend before with God-knows-what infection (tested negative for strep, flu, and COVID).  I had to get better quick, because my son graduated from college the weekend after.  In between, I had a Zoom author visit to host and end-of-semester library checkouts to manage, as well as the detective work involved in chasing down overdue books.  I missed a fabulous monthly librarians' meeting on Monday (hadn't been fever-free for twenty-four hours yet), and spent three hours on sub plans for Friday, when we left for Denton to prepare for our son's 8a Saturday graduation.

So yeah, a Tuesday Slice wasn't a priority that week.  Nor was it the week after, as I prepared for our read-aloud marathon and book giveaways and the usual end of semester chaos.  Or the week after that, on Winter Break, when I was either zoning out on NORAD's Santa Tracking arcade games, Jacquie Lawson's beautiful Advent calendar, or cleaning in a mad rush to make the kids' rooms livable for their holiday return.  (On a tangential note, have any of you empty nesters noticed your stuff spreading out into the no-longer-regularly-occupied bedrooms in your house?)

You would think the week after Christmas, I would have had something to write about.  A Christmas memory, perhaps, or the cute antics of my new grandpuppy.

There were sweet moments, and we had a lovely family holiday.  I was still too tired to write.  But the nagging guilt was gently tugging at my conscience, to put my "butt-in-chair", as some of my favorite local authors refer to the physical act of placing oneself before a blank screen or page and have at it.

Which is what I've done this Monday evening. Nothing epic here, nothing particularly memorable...but I put my patookus in the office chair, my fingers on the keyboard, and words on the screen.

Whew.