stilllearning2b

Don’t Practice the Perfect

Posted on May 5, 2012March 6, 2024 by stilllearning2b

As an algebra teacher, I spend much of my day pushing kids beyond what they think they are capable. To no one’s surprise, I am often met with resistance. They would rather practice addition rather than polynomials. They want to practice the perfect.

In the example of algebra students, it is easy to see the absurdity of practicing something one has already mastered to the exclusion of learning something new. However, it is often not so clear in our own lives how frequently we gravitate towards the known rather than explore the edge and delve into the unknown and unmastered. If always do what you know, you will never know anything else. This clicked for me one day in the gym (shocker, I know) when I immediately walked towards the free weights. Again. That was my comfort zone; that was where I knew what I was I doing. Free weights are awesome, but I was slighting myself by not trying anything else. I made a promise to myself to try at least one new exercise machine each visit or try one new move with free weights. And, you know what, I now have added to my “mastered” repertoire and discovered new favorites. If it wasn’t for trying new things, my “I can’t, won’t and I’ll never” list wouldn’t exist and my life would be much duller.

It is comfortable to practice the perfected and scary to be vulnerable by trying something new. We often make excuses, promising to practice something once we improve at it. Think about that. That is like saying I meditate because I have a calm mind, rather than I meditate to have a calm mind. Or, I’m not flexible enough to do yoga, rather than I do yoga to become flexible. Just rearranging those few words entirely shifts the focus and intent of the practice. Th only way to improve is to practice the imperfect.

We often need a push, either internal or external, to delve into the new. Start by being honest with yourself about how you stay in your comfort zone. Then, make a committment to grow in one or more areas. If it helps, try picturing your algebra teacher pushing you along the way:)

Here are some suggestions to help you break out of practicing the perfect:

-Surround yourself with people that have knowledge and interests that differ from yours.

-Sign up for a class. The YMCA and park services usually offer some low-cost and low-committment classes.

-Take suggestions from or just spend time with a kid; they’re usually fearless when it comes to trying new experiences.

-If you’re concerned about trying a new class, start with a similar version designed for the elderly. The welcoming environment and shared wisdom will immediately put you at ease.

-Find someone who can struggle through with you. My students benefit from seeing others in the same boat.

-Find a way to record your progress along the way. Seeing improvement is a huge motivator.

It’s time to stop practicing addition and move on to something that will challenge you to grow. And, no, it doesn’t have to be polynomials.

What Words Were Spoken?

Posted on May 4, 2012March 6, 2024 by stilllearning2b

I stumbled across this article this morning and found familiar words. My husband left me a letter than contained many of the same excuses. I think it can be helpful to realize that these words are often not meant to be taken personally, rather they are the platitudes spoken to try to excuse the behavior and pass along the shame and guilt. These are not words to internalize and let fester, rather, these are words to let slide through and let go.

What Cheating Men Really Mean When They Say They’re Leaving | First Wives World.

Men – I would love to hear from you. Are these words similar to those spoken by cheating wives?

The Garden

Posted on May 4, 2012 by stilllearning2b

In my old life I had a garden.

When we first moved into our home, the 1 acre yard was a motley medley of scraggly grass and tenacious weeds; too wet to mow and too shady for grass to thrive. It was a blank canvas. Slowly, I began to paint, using the medium of small starter plants, tree seedlings obtained from the forestry department, and cuttings and divisions nurtured from friends and neighbors.

I had a vision of a magical woodland retreat, filled with the soft haze of ferns and the subtle flowers of the understory. For years, this image existed only in my head, the reality of small, young plants planted in a vast, weed-strewn yard looked nothing like a garden. I spent hours on the weekends and after work attacking weeds and planting replacements. On days when the weather was prohibitive, I would research plants and growing conditions. I made annual treks to a budget nursery in a nearby town, filling my car to the bursting points with dreams held in the bright green folds of new growth.

But slowly, it emerged. I watched 2 foot bald cypress saplings grow to 30 foot trees. Ferns and hostas spread their roots far and wide under the protective shade of the understory. Hydrangea proudly held their blooms high, as though no longer ashamed of their companions. Colors would come and go throughout the weeks: daylilies, Lenten rose, iris, geraniums, azaleas. Their spectacular shows provided endless variety and interest.

From February through November, I would begin most every day with a walk along the stone path, through the pergolas, and over the boardwalk. Examining the new growth,watching the wildlife, reveling in the beauty of the plants. On the weekends, I would bring my papers to grade out to one of the hammocks to enjoy the breezes through the leaves and the interplay of light and shadow.

In my old life I had a garden.

It was painful to walk away from my plants, nurtured for so many years. I found myself staring at plants around town wistfully, thinking of their counterparts in my yard. As with much of my transition, it was painful, but also freeing. I no longer had to worry about the assaults of deer, the dangers of a last freeze, or the effects of a flood. My weekends were not filled with weeding. My hands no longer frozen from the cold February soil.

But still, I mourned my plants. I purchased a pass to the botanical gardens and promised myself a monthly visit. Now, I walk their perfectly manicured paths and appreciate the beauty created by teams of professionals. The gardens are stunning, but it’s not the same as one created by my own labor. My own dreams.

In my old life I had a garden.

The last few years, my nurturing energies have been turned inwards, helping myself to grow and thrive. I have tried to eliminate the weeds, start new plantings, and encourage growth. I have become my own garden.

We Are More Malleable Than We Realize

Posted on May 3, 2012May 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

I was in a gifted pull-out program in middle school. My teacher decided to administer an inventory to determine where each of us fell on a left-brain (analytical, math) / right-brain (creative,language) scale. Someone who was perfectly balanced (do these people exist?) would secure of score of 0. Right-brain folks would be assigned positive numbers, and left-brained, negative. Once we all had our scores, she had us line up along the board in order of our scores, leaving spaces where there were no students with the indicated number. The entire class fit alongside the front of the room, with one boy straddling the door frame of the trailer classroom. I was in the parking lot.

The rest of the class had scores within 10 points of center. I was a 32. A number which screams, “Danger! Danger! This person will not be able to function in adulthood. She will be fully consumed with creative endeavors and will have her head so high in the clouds her feet won’t touch the ground.”

So, as you would expect, I became a math teacher.

Okay, so it wasn’t really that simple. I was born with that extreme right brain and my early childhood nurtured it, as I was encouraged to participate in all sorts of deliciously creative endeavors. Once I entered school, I realized that I would have to change in order to be successful in this new environment (I also had a people-pleaser, perfectionistic streak or I probably would have stayed with the finger paints). I began to adapt. I learned how to exist in a left-brained world. The better I got at it, the more I was drawn to math (after almost failing Algebra II, I might add). It didn’t fully cement until college. The pendulum swung the other way and I fully embraced the world on the other side of that middle school line.

We are more malleable than we ever think we are. We develop mental pictures of ourselves from a very early age, formed by our experiences and our encounters. It is then so easy to live within those confines, to fully buy-in to those early mental constructs. But we don’t have to.

In order to become more malleable, it is first necessary to soften. Just as the thermostat helps the body reach that goal in hot yoga, applying warmth to your life helps to make your brain more malleable. Practice acceptance. Find support. Be still and silence the inner critic. Try to avoid the influence of the cold, as it only serves to make one more brittle. Picture yourself basking in the sun, the heat softening you and allowing you to assume any form you wish, not limited by any prior assumptions.

And, you never know, you just might become a math teacher.

3 Tips to Recover From a Breaking Point

Posted on May 2, 2012 by stilllearning2b

We all have our breaking points. Some are minor collapses, brought on by the stressors of the day piling up while our monkey minds run around screeching. Others are near-fatal collapses triggered by loss or change. Although these breaking points differ in scale and recovery time, the tips below can help you begin to plaster the break and rebuild.

3 Tips to Recover From a Breaking Point.

I used to visualize my breaking points as the collapse of a rock face, permanently marring the cliff. I am learning to view breaking points as the natural and expected result of the crest of the wave. I will break under life pressures again and again, but like the water, I can regather and rebuild.

How do you recover from your breaking points? Do you see them as rock or water?

Author: stilllearning2b

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