Forever grateful--Spiritual Journey Thursday

Denise has given us the prompt of exploring gratitude for this month's Spiritual Journey reflection. You can find her own post here.

My current gratitude journal, like my last one, started as a blank Erin Condren bound notebook.  For years I treated myself to an appointment book each late December, prettily illustrated and already dated with plenty of space for my nightly notes.  But I also hoard blank journals, and it occurred to me a couple of years ago that I could pre-date the pages, making use of what I already possess.  

I began nocturnal gratitude journaling decades ago after reading Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy.  It was the one practice the author wished her readers to continue, above all the other suggestions she proffered in her daily musings.  The book and the practice of gratitude journaling appeared when I needed them the most--as I was grieving my mother's illness and subsequent death.  Writing five things for which I was thankful was often hard during those first dark months after her passing.  I can truthfully say that even now, "washer and dryer", "indoor plumbing", and "comfy bed" are mentioned fairly often, as is "pantry full of food" and "the health of my family".

Gratitude journaling, however mundane the details might be, makes me softer, helps me sleep better, and puts me in a state of constant gratitude.  It's not hard to think of what I'm grateful for, through that lens:

I am grateful for

the electricity that 

powered the alarm that

woke me up for quiet me time that

helped me face the challenges of the day and

the coffee maker that also woke me up and

colorful pens to write my morning page and

internet access to connect with my friends and

the colleagues who lend me support and

the students who follow library expectations with a smile and

the free Diet Coke in the teacher lounge fridge and

the PTA folks who bought us those sodas and

the mom-turned-sub who will stand in for me and

my son's graduation for college (the need for a sub) and

his sister, my daughter--the care they have for one another and

my husband, their father, who loves us through thick and thin and

this circle of Spirit-seekers who will read my words, as I read theirs, and

the glow I will get from their posts that

I will write about in my gratitude journal that

sits next to my comfy bed that

is right by the alarm

for which I am grateful.

There is a place, too, for which I am forever grateful--actually two linked places:  the hospital where both of my children were born, and the hospital which cradled my firstborn preemie until she came home.  Whenever I am near either of those two buildings, a silent thank you blooms in my heart for the people and medical miracles that made us, and kept us, a family.

Thank you, Denise, for the prompt of gratitude this Thursday.

Tuesday Slice: Routine is underrated

"Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.

Let me learn from you, love you, savor you, bless you before you depart.

Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow."

--Mary Jean Irion

The older I get, the more I value routines.

My morning routine at home, performed alone in the quiet pre-dawn hours, sets the tone for my day.  I am able to breathe, collect my thoughts, wake up gently and prepare for work without feeling too rushed.  I plan my clothes for the week every weekend and lay them out each night, one less daily decision I need to make--decision fatigue is real among us educator-types.

My morning routine at work helps me prepare for the day ahead, too.  I turn on the lights, flat panel computer, circulation desk computer, and office laptop on the way to stowing my jacket and purse.  I scoop up my phone, reading glasses and water tumbler, leaving my tumbler by the door, as I head to the hallway to greet students, help out at the front door, and take care of library visitors.  As soon as the last bell rings, I fill up my water tumbler and get the computers logged in for the day's work.

That school routine worked, and then it was disrupted, will be disrupted for the foreseeable future with new duties to attend to most mornings.  I now need to wake up earlier, be at work earlier, to attend to library setup before heading to my new duty each day.

I would be lying if I said I didn't resent this change.  I  know I will get over the resentment, will learn to work with the new schedule.  I am hoping it benefits the teachers it will serve.

This change got me thinking about how often we have done this to students and teachers these past two years.  With so much uncertainty brought by the pandemic, shouldn't we be focusing on routines right now?  Teachers know that consistent routines go far in classroom management.  Children thrive in an environment where they know what's happening next, especially when their after-school lives may be chaotic.  We adults benefit from the same conditions, too.

Daily routines may sound mundane, but there is flexibility within that framework.  I learned that when serving fifty-seven classes a week in the library at my previous school; a weekly routine allowed for the occasional disruption (emphasis on occasional) without much to-do--or resentment--and gave me the time to serve all of my students.  I'm hoping this latest change will be the last one for a good long while.  Routine days are a treasure.

 

Tuesday Slice: Reader's response

I am a book-juggler; I very rarely read just one at a time.  Right now, I have a kidlit book, an adult novel, two personal growth books, and two professional books all in various stages of being read.  My Muse decided that today's Slice will be reader's responses in verse to three of the books.

The Book of Longings by Sue Monk Kidd 

If one is bereft of longings

     No hopes, no dreams

     No inner voice straining to be heard

Is one truly alive?

The Elephant's Girl by Celesta Rimington

What wisdom lies

   in an elephant's eyes?

Ghosts don't just say "Boo!"--

   they can be helpful, too.

Families are found in the heart.

Think Like a Monk by Jay Shetty

Exposing my negativity

Excavating my fears

Exploring my intentions

This is bibliotherapy.

Now I am thinking this might be fun for our students, too...

Tuesday Slice: Fall vibes

 

Fall vibes

Fuzzy socks 

long-sleeved pajamas

extra blanket

at bedtime

So-dark mornings

one more snooze button

chilled kitchen

warm cinnamon-scented coffee

Crisp sunrises

invoke deep breathing

skies of pale blues

or stormy grays

Warm sunsets

last of the mosquitoes lurking

fewer birds at the feeder

plants dug up by hoarding squirrels

Children focused 

on costumes and candy

adults already shopping

for Christmas

Calendar checks

trips planned

who's-cooking-the-turkey

pumpkin pie, apple, or both

Cardigans on rotation

coats at the ready

hats and mittens

not far behind

Fall vibes.

Tuesday Slice: Taking time for me

 

We had a staff development day yesterday, with a whole hour for lunch--educators know what a gift that is!  We sat in our overly-air-conditioned cafeteria for three hours in the morning, and I felt the need to warm up after eating in my office...so I went for a walk outside.  

I rarely venture outdoors during a workday, my usual schedule prohibitive of such activity, and it felt a little scandalous to do so.  I slipped out a back door and immediately felt the sun's warm rays on my shoulders.  Conscious of the time, I walked briskly around the cul-de-sac behind our school, empty of delivery trucks at the moment.  I made my way around the side entrance, and stopped at the garden planted on the front lawn.

Giant stalks of who-knows-what were bent to the ground.  I noticed tiny green cherry tomatoes here and there, and sprawling vines snaking through dried mulch with leaves as big as my hand.  The vines intrigued me, so I followed them with my eyes...and spied not one, but two watermelons!  Not quite ready for picking, so I let them be.

An orange butterfly--a fritillary, by the looks of it--fluttered from one flower to another.  I spent a few quiet moments just watching it feed, marveling at its colors and long, spindly legs.  Something made me look at my watch, and I realized it was time to get back to work.

Warmed up, back at my desk in my windowless library, I said to myself, "I should do this every Monday."

Where am I?--Spiritual Journey Thursday

Ramona has given us the prompt of exploring the concept of "here" for this month's Spiritual Journey reflection. You can find her own post here.

I am challenged to be present

Be here, in the now

With my bleary, tired eyes squinting at the screen

My stomach slightly roiling from today's uncouth eating

My head fuzzy with fatigue.

Before this

I paid a bill

listened to a podcast

while Christmas shopping with an hour to spare on a coupon,

and signing up for yet another self-help newsletter.

Was I there for any of that?

Before that

I was nodding off on the couch

phone in hand

husband seated across the room

new show on the television, half watched.

Was I there for any of that?

It is hard for me to be present

with a mind that tends to the future

and a body that protests for more sleep.

And when I sleep

will I finally be here

or will my mind decide to roam fields of dreams?

What is so wrong with the present

that makes it so hard to be here?

Tuesday Slice: Dance party of one

Some mornings

I turn the radio on, volume down low

Search for a station with a beat

Feet starting to move, then hips

Arms start swinging--

Moves from ancient aerobics tapes surface

(Who cares?  No one else is awake!)

Hands in the air, stretching overhead--

important for people of a certain age, so I'm told

Occasional slick shimmies from clubbing days

Conjure memories of sticky sweet machine-made fog

Carefree nights with friends...

The song trails off.  Do I have time for another?

Check the clock:  no.

This dance party ends with workday prep

Instead of a 2am run to Denny's for fries and a coke.

Three to five minute dance parties have become my mini-workout of choice most workday mornings.  Bonus mood booster if I happen upon eighties dance music.