Excuses

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Our brains are rather comical creatures. Have you ever noticed how they have a tendency to throw up excuses faster than a juggler’s balls in the final act rather than simply face reality? Have you observed the energy expended as your children come up with one creative reason after another to avoid homework or cleaning their room when simply addressing the task at hand would often be easier? Do you get frustrated with friends or family when they complain about a situation and yet fail to make any changes?

Do you ever notice your own excuses?

It’s okay.

We all make them.

You can admit it here.

Sometimes it can be helpful when someone calls us out on them.

(Assuming we’re willing to listen, of course.)

Often others see what we cannot.

But sometimes, you’re on your own. Maybe others do not register your excuses. Or maybe they perceive you as too fragile to tackle them head on or they are too timid themselves. Or perhaps they’re busy creating their own excuses as well.

Regardless, sometimes you have to push your own head down into the metaphorical bucket of cold water. To wake up. To stop the stutter of excuses.

When these excuses get in the way of moving forward, I call  them healing hangups. They are beliefs and perceptions that hold us back.

I caught myself in two healing hangups after the divorce and it wasn’t until I addressed them both that I was able to unhook from the pull of the past.

The first hangup I had was the belief that in order to heal, I would have to find understanding. I was so blindsided that I felt a desperate need to understand why my husband could do those things. I needed to to know what drove his actions. I grasped at labels for a time, seeking comprehension in a diagnosis. I read books. I talked to others. I was always searching for elusive “why.”

I now see it as a snipe hunt; there was no label, no information that would really answer the question that my heart cried out for – How can you betray someone you claim to love? How can hold me so closely while planning your escape? How can leave me when you swore you would protect me? There are no answers. No understanding.

No answer that would make it okay.

It was a slow process, that shift from wanting to know why to learning how to find peace in spite of. Part of it was creating my own understanding without worry for its veracity.Some of it was realizing that if I could understand why he did what he did, it would mean that I was capable of the same. And part of it was realizing that I was using that as an excuse to delay healing –

“I’ll be okay once I understand why.”

But if I held on to that excuse, I would never be okay. And, at some point, I realized that it was more important for me to be okay than to understand.

Of course, excuses rarely travel alone; they bring plenty of backup. In my case, my other healing hangup was my need for him to face consequences. Now, sometimes those were elaborate schemes dreamt up in my raging mind (how does circumcision by paper cut sound?), but most of them were a need to simply face the natural and legal consequences of his actions.

I held tightly to those excuses. I intentionally delayed trying to address the anger until after his court date for the bigamy had arrived. I was so sure that I would feel relief once he had to face the consequences – feel the blowback of his choices.

Unfortunately, that consequence proved to be a dud.

No problem. I had another excuse ready. I’ll be able to release the anger once he faces me in civil court for the divorce.

Uh, yeah. Another dud.

So, there I was. Court dates over and he escaped with only the most minor of scratches.

Again, I had a choice. I could continue to let it be an excuse holding me back or I could choose to let it go. I’ll let the title of this post let you know the selection I opted for: Why Criminal Pursuit is a Game I Refuse to Play.

There were no consequences that would make it okay.

Those choices were not easy. Taming excuses is like playing Whack-a-Mole with your mind. You gotta be fierce and determined to hit them all. And, of course, a helping hand is always advantageous.

Are there excuses that you have noticed your mind creating to shield you from the difficult and real work of moving forward? What healing hangups do you have?

Learn From It

Posted on by stilllearning2b

learn from it

Ten Lessons I am Still Learning

Posted on by stilllearning2b

photo-302

I took a break from the work of moving this past Sunday morning to sit on my new screened in porch with Tiger, both of us enjoying the view and the serenity (although I think he appreciated the squirrels more than I). Being able to take that break when there was so much to do was progress for me, a sign that I am indeed still learning. It prompted me to dust off this oldie but goodie from the archives – Ten Lessons I Am Still Learning. It’s funny when I look at this list now – I have downhill skied, learned how to relax more and even fallen in love with stretching in the form of yoga. I’m straddling two homes at the moments, both with extremely cluttered kitchens (and other rooms!). It’s a sign that we are always evolving and changing. I guess I need to come up with some new lessons soon:)

Ten Lessons I Am Still Learning (originally published winter of 2012)

One of the things I love most about my partner is that he sees himself as a perpetual student; he is always willing and eager to learn something new, even in an area where he is considered an expert.

Last year, we were out at dinner with a group of friends.  One of our friend’s 8 year son opened the conversation with my boyfriend (now soon to be husband!).

“Do you have a black belt?” the boy asked eagerly.

“I do,” came the reply.

“Actually, he has several,” interjected the boy’s dad.

“Wow!  Does that mean you know everything?”

“Actually, a black belt means that you are ready to begin learning.”

I loved that response.  It serves as a reminder to me to always be open to learning more, especially in those areas where I already have knowledge.

In that spirit, here are ten lessons that I am still learning:

1) Life doesn’t just have two speeds – on and off.  It is not only possible to go slowly, but sometimes it is preferable.

2) It is okay not to be the first one at work; stuff still manages to get done even if I arrive after the custodians.

3) I’m working on learning to sleep past 6:00 am and considering the possibility of mastering the power nap.

4)  A messy kitchen does not mean a chaotic life.  It just means that people actually live in our house.

5) Sometimes it is okay for the play to come before the work.  (I got this one from my dog)

6) I am still working on going downhill on wheels (bikes, skates, etc.).  I just don’t  trust those things!

7) Stretching is worthwhile exercise even if is doesn’t work up a sweat.

8) It is okay to relax.

9) Money will be there; I don’t need to get too stressed about it.

10) Always take time to appreciate what you have and remember to express your gratitude.  Especially when the kitchen is messy.

Three Things

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m enjoying my first slow cup of coffee since the start of the new school year. My tired feet are enjoying their morning free of heels. My throat, scratchy from overuse, is relishing a day without the need for much in the way of vocalization. This, the first pause of the school year, is when I finally get a chance to get to know my students.

From almost my first year in the classroom, I’ve started the year with the same homework assignment. It’s simply titled Three Things.

Three Things

Please write in complete sentences.

What are three things you like about math?

What are three things you don’t like about math?

What are three things I should know about you?

It seems so simple, doesn’t it? Basic questions that should elicit basic responses. Yet, every year, the papers that turned in tell me more than you can imagine about the person behind the writing.

Of course, I learn the basics. I learn if they follow directions. I can tell if they struggle with communicating in writing. Some never even complete the assignment at all and I certainly learn important information from that! I discover who prefers algebra to geometry and who likes to perform computation (not me!). I find out cool facts about each of them that would not be revealed in class (these kids have some great taste in music and hobbies!).

But it goes way deeper.

I learn about their history, both with schooling and with math. Their attitude towards the subject and themselves is clear upon the page.

Some celebrate the challenge of math and discuss the joy of struggle followed by success. They realize that we all fail. They are not afraid to try and try again. They do see themselves as failures even when they fail.

Others share their frustrations when they do not understand something and they internalize the message, calling themselves “dumb” or “stupid” or “bad.” They see their failure as fixed. They are usually timid in class, afraid to try. Many will hide their discomfort behind behaviors, becoming the class clown or the “bad” kid. They would rather not try than to try and risk failing, adding yet another tally to negative view of themselves. When describing what I should know about them, they often say things like, “I try hard even when it seems like I don’t,” “I get upset when I don’t understand things” or “Even though I can be bad in class, I’m really a good kid.”  They want people to know that they are more than their grades. More than their failures.

Those are the kids I focus on from the beginning. Before I ever teach them how to graph a line, I have to reach them. I have to start to change their view of themselves, show them that they are smart and capable. Help them see that everybody struggles with something. Let them experience the pride and accomplishment that comes from hard work and perseverance.

These are the kids that believe that they can’t do math. And the thing is, they’re right. But only because they’re limited by that belief. I have to help them change their beliefs about themselves first. And then I can teach them anything.

It’s amazing to me how ingrained these internal messages can already be in a thirteen year old kid. Just imagine what ours, as adults, must be. What beliefs do you have about yourself that you have been carrying around since childhood? What things do you believe you’re bad at or simply can’t do? Are those beliefs accurate or are they self-fulfilling? Do you ever become the adult version of the class clown or the “bad” kid to hide your own insecurities and feelings of failure? Are you limited by your beliefs?

My homework for you is to complete the adult version of my Three Things assignment.

Please think in honest sentences.

What are three things you value in yourself?

What are three things you believe about yourself?

What are three ways you limit yourself?

Don’t worry; I won’t mark it late if it’s not in by Monday morning:)

Childhood Lessons From Unlikely Teachers

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Childhood is a time where every encounter and every experience contains a lesson. Here are ten of my favorite childhood lessons and the (sometimes shocking) teachers that related them.

Lesson: Acceptance

Teacher: Selling shampoo to naked people

How it went down: I grew up in an environment where nudity was acceptable. From a young age, I learned that the human body, in all its variations, was natural. I was taught that nudity could exist apart from sexuality and that an unclothed body was not a source of shame or embarrassment. I first appreciated this lesson one summer in early high school when I spent a few days selling shampoo to patrons at a nude sauna at the Oregon Country Fair. I was at the height of teenage insecurity about my appearance and my body. Yet, when standing alongside hundreds of other exposed bodies, my anxieties about my own form dissipated. I realized that I had been accepting others yet judging myself. I have generally had a positive relationship with my body and my weight and I believe that it is because of my early experiences with nudity. On a side note, somehow people wearing nothing but socks appear to be even more naked than those entirely in their birthday suits:)

Lesson: Tolerance

Teacher: A variety of churches, synagogues and temples

How it went down: I was raised in a fairly liberal Methodist church yet I had friends from just about every religious background imaginable. I spent many a weekend at their houses and would attend religious services with their families. It was not uncommon for me to attend a youth group activity with my own church on Friday, visit the synagogue on Saturday and end the weekend with a Catholic mass. As a child, I was accepted at each church and my questions were welcomed and answered thoughtfully (I always had plenty to ask!). I was probably one of the only kids to go to catechism and Hebrew classes even though I was not Catholic or Jewish:) Later on, my mom’s experiences led me to be exposed to the wisdom from the East as well as from the Native Americans. I had friends that were Buddhist and friends that were Baptist. I learned to respect the beliefs and I learned something from them all.

Lesson: Patience

Teacher: Two very different parents

How it went down: My parents could not be more different. My father is an introverted engineer and my mother, an extroverted counselor. And me? Somewhere smack dab in the middle. As a kid, it was sometimes difficult trying to be understanding of each of their temperaments when they were so different from each other and from me. I had to learn (yes, kicking and screaming!) that my way was not the only way and that I needed to be patient with each of them. My mom often says that we choose the parents we need. Yeah, I certainly needed lessons in patience and often still do!

Lesson: Curiosity

Teacher: Books

How it went down: I was an only child who didn’t need much sleep. To preserve their sanity, my parents instituted an “off duty at 9:00 pm” rule when I turned three. As a result, I needed to find a way to entertain myself alone in my room before I was ready to go to sleep. After learning that a xylophone is not an appropriate nighttime toy (who knew?), I turned to books. I started out reading along with records (dating myself here!) until I could read independently. I soon discovered that entire worlds were available to me through the pages of books and that I could discover more with every page turned. I also learned that the Pizza Hut reading incentive program could earn me a free pizza a week:) I’m still an avid reader and questioner, always on the lookout to learn something new.

Lesson: Consequences

Teacher: A hippie music festival

How it went down: By the time I was in high school, many of my friends and classmates had begun experimenting with alcohol and drugs, often to tragic ends. I was never tempted because I had seen the reality. For most teenagers, they only see the glamorous side of drinking and drugging – the movies, the ads, the parties. Because of my time spent camping at a hippie music festival every year, I was exposed to the realities from a young age. I saw the fun parties but I also saw the effects the next day. I witnessed lives spin out of control from one summer to next as festival-goers fell to addiction. The lesson went beyond the effects of drugs and alcohol; I learned that there is no such thing as a free lunch and that every choice has a consequence.

Lesson: Goal setting

Teacher: A Cabbage Patch Kid doll

How it went down: Like many children of the 80s, I was enamored with Cabbage Patch Kids. I was given my first as a gift from my mom, but I soon lusted after a second. My mom smartly chose to make me purchase this one on my own. For months, I saved my allowance while visiting the intended purchase on each trip to the store. I would be tempted by cheaper toys that I could purchase with the amount I had saved yet I was encouraged to hold out until I had reached my goal. That lesson has served me well in life. Although now I see that doll as a waste of money, the ability to work towards a goal is priceless.

Lesson: Compassion

Teacher: A young girl with a profound disability

How it went down: I spent two summers in middle school volunteering at my church with a group of preschool-aged children with special needs. One little girl was the most severe. She had PKU, a genetic mutation that prohibits the body from breaking down an amino acid correctly (this is what the doctors are checking for when they do that heel prick at birth). Her abnormality was undetected and, as a result, she had a very high fever that caused extensive brain damage. I spent two years paired with this child. She was difficult to work with. She would screech and kick. She ripped my earring from my ear and left scratches on my arms. She would hit herself repeatedly and fail to make any eye contact. Even through all of this, I connected with her. Over time, she began to show signs of interaction with me and with her environment. To this day, one of my favorite moments is when she gave me a hug on our last together. She taught me to respond with compassion and empathy rather than fear or aversion.

Lesson: Imperfection

Teacher: An art teacher

How it went down: I was always a high-strung student with perfectionistic tendencies. I would cry when I received a 98, berating myself for failing to earn the final two points. I had an art teacher throughout much of high school that had a policy of never giving a grade higher than a 95. His rationale? Art can never be perfect. True. And neither can life. There is a freedom in embracing the imperfect that I first learned in that tempera paint scented classroom. Of course, I would still cry if I didn’t earn a 95:) After all, I’m not perfect…

Lesson: Adaptability

Teacher: My many “adopted family members”

How it went down: After my parent’s divorced, my mom and I were the only blood relations in the entire state of Texas. Instead of bemoaning this fact, we simply made family. We have a friend who joined us for holidays and trips. I would assimilate into other households for other celebrations. Our definition of family was flexible and fluid. I have used that lesson in my own life, not only with family but with adapting to any situation. You can complain or you can change your perspective and your circumstances. The latter seems a lot better to me.

Lesson: Perseverance

Teacher: A bicycle

How it went down: I’ve shared before about my struggles with riding a bike. Even with my father’s expert tutelage (he was like the Lance Armstrong of the neighborhood, only without the performance enhancing drugs), I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I turned 10. Go ahead and laugh, I know you want to:) My parents would not let me weasel out of this task, even though I tried. It took tears, threats and bribes (two banana splits!), but I finally learned how to pedal without falling over. Even more importantly, I learned the value of hard work and determination and that true failure only comes when you do not try.

I am thankful for these childhood lessons and childhood teachers. It’s amazing what we can learn from others even when they may not know that we are studying.