Community

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Yesterday was my favorite day of the entire school year. We took over a thousand students, over a hundred teachers and staff and a couple hundred parents out into the community for a day of giving back. Classes were dispersed to children’s shelters, the Human Society and nursing homes. Students helped set up for Relay for Life and assisted food pantries with organizing and packaging their donations. My class was sent to a local park where they helped move logs that were causing trail erosion and dragged debris onto social trails to obliterate them so that hikers are directed to the primary trails. Back the school, we learned that we raised over $3,000 to donate to three different organizations and collected over $12,000 worth of food that is going to two local shelters.

It’s a beautiful day. Being 8th graders, they usually grumble about it before hand and refuse to admit the significance of the day after, but it is in their faces. I saw quiet students come to life on that trail, no longer worried about their appearance or cool factor as they drug branches and scattered leaves. I saw the pride in their faces as they turned back down the hill and witnessed the transformation they had created in the woods beneath. I saw them connect to the specialness of the place and the bond of working together to achieve a goal. I even saw tears on some of their faces as the donations were awarded to the selected organizations that afternoon.

It is a day that teaches them the importance of looking beyond themselves. Of giving back. Of being connected and belonging to a community.

Those are lessons that will hopefully persist well beyond the day.

The view from the top of the trail the students helped to maintain.
The view from the top of the trail the students helped to maintain.

This also happens to be the weekend that Brock’s martial arts instructor is in town to host a biannual seminar. As is tradition, we will celebrate tonight with the entire group at dinner: Brock’s teacher, Brock’s students and their families and even former group members. It is a diverse group yet we have become a community. Members support each other and look out for each other. It is a family where each person has a sense of belonging and contributing; they know they always have a home in the group. I am so proud of Brock and his effort to bring and keep the group together. It a beautiful thing.

I hope to develop my own community where those who have been through the end of a relationship can find understanding and support. A place that can help to alleviate some that crushing isolation in the early days and where those who have found their way can help those behind them.

This weekend, I celebrate community.

“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”
― Mother Teresa

 

 

Homeostatic

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I spend a lot of time thinking about habits – the good, the bad, the intentional and the wholly accidental.

In my own life, I have become aware of and am addressing my habits of mind that lead me to anxious thoughts and a propensity to becoming overwhelmed. I have removed some habits (okay, maybe removing is more accurate:) ) and added others (such as my daily meditation practice).

At school, I strive to teach the students the good habits of an academic – preparation, questioning and perseverance. I try to coach them to bring a pencil every day (you have no idea how difficult this is with 8th graders!), complete their homework, ask until they understand and to push harder when the work gets tough.

As a wellness coach, I help my clients establish habits that improve the well-being of their minds and bodies. I assist them in identifying their thinking patterns that underlie their choices and I aid them in becoming more aware of their mindless approach towards health and fitness.

Habits themselves are neither good nor bad. They are simply acquired behaviors that are done often and automatically and can be difficult to break. Habits have a purpose; they serve to automate much of the minutiae of life so that our brains are free to attend to novelty. Habits are difficult to break because they often occur below our level of awareness and they are reinforced by the removal of a negative stimulus (ex. relieving anxiety) or the application of a positive stimulus (the taste of that cookie on your tongue).

I spend a lot of time thinking about habits.

But they still have the capacity to surprise me with their tenacity.

My car is approaching its 14th birthday.  I had an after market alarm installed within a week of purchase. This alarm came with two identical keypads that, shockingly enough, do not have the staying power of an Acura. Although the car runs fine (knock on wood), the keypads have now both passed on. I suppose I could track down replacements or have another alarm installed, but the car is 14 years old. I really don’t want to put any money in it that is required by the stoic hamsters under the hood.

So, Brock clipped the wires to the alarm. No problem, I thought. I don’t care about the alarm anymore. But I was forgetting something.

Habit.

My doors used to lock automatically after a 30 second delay (mechanics hated this – they used to lock themselves out all the time!). After 14 years, I have become used to this feature. When I exit my car in a safe location (basically home and work), I simply walk away and wait for the car to lock itself.

It doesn’t do that anymore. Now, I have to remember to manually enter a key in the lock and turn. I know, so archaic.

My car key. The ribbon was used by Brock to secure my engagement ring in his pocket on the night he proposed:)
My car key. The ribbon was used by Brock to secure my engagement ring in his pocket on the night he proposed:)

How many times have I remembered since the wires were clipped (sounds like an automotive vasectomy, doesn’t it? 🙂 ) on Saturday? None.

Lisa 0

Habits 5

Damn.

I used to tease my mom about her attempts to remember things and break through habits. She had sticky notes plastered to every available surface as visual reminders. She would place throw pillows right in her morning path to prompt her brain to remember while her body adjusted its path. These were never useful strategies for long. As with anything, she adapted to their presence and their novelty no longer registered.

I came down the stairs to this the other day. I first thought my mom must have put it there. Then I remembered, she's a thousand miles away. It turns out that Tiger pulled it off the couch. Perhaps a reminder to chase squirrels?
I came down the stairs to this the other day. I first thought my mom must have put it there. Then I remembered, she’s a thousand miles away. It turns out that Tiger pulled it off the couch. Perhaps a reminder to chase squirrels?

I used to tease her. But I get it now. I don’t think its so much a loss of memory as we age as the accumulation of habits.

Less is novel.

And more is automatic.

We do as we have done.

Biology uses the term “homeostasis” to describe an organism’s attempt to maintain a state of equilibrium or balance. Our habitual state becomes our equilibrium and we are fighting homeostasis to change those patterns of thought or action.

It’s a difficult battle, but not impossible.

The easiest way to change habits is to piggyback them on other changes. For example, if I had a new car, it would be easier for me to remember that my exit strategy had changed. Or, when my life was in flux from divorce, I could easily add a regular yoga class since it was simply one more change of many.

I’m not suggesting you get divorced just so you can do yoga, however!

So what can you do when you don’t have other change to anchor to?

Start by becoming aware of your habits and their precursors.

Example: I buy a Starbucks on the way to work every day when I drive by a specific location.

Identify the pros and cons of the habit.

Example: Starbucks is yummy and coffee has caffeine, but it is expensive.

Change the circumstances or the precursors.

Example: I drive a new route that does not take me by the Starbucks.

Redesigned logo used from 2011-present.
Redesigned logo used from 2011-present. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Practice relaxation.

Example: The best part of the coffee was the first sip before I walked into work. Instead, I will take a brief mediation in the car to relax.

Identify the challenging situations.

Example: I am most likely to stop when I have not had enough sleep or I am stressed about the day.

Plan alternatives to the habit.

Example: When I am tired, I will bring an extra mug of coffee from home and I will use yoga and meditation to handle the stress.

Create a challenge.

Example: I will commit to an entire Starbucks-free month.

 

 

Just so you know, that is a hypothetical “I” in the above exercise. I love me some Starbucks but I’m too cheap to go there too much! I went through much the same process when I decided to add meditation to my daily life a year ago. Since then, I have been able to create a habit of it; I rarely skip more than a day. It has become part of my homeostasis, my balance. We will always revert. It is impossible to not to fall back on habit, to be completely mindful in every moment. Luckily, we can change what we revert back to by changing those habits and creating a new stasis.

And now, I just need to go through the process with locking my car door. In the meantime, please don’t steal my car. I might have to send Tiger after you!

381731_2549361663706_1543772016_2617208_1917889666_n

 

 

 

Those Who Can

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I never planned on becoming a teacher. My initial goal was architecture, but I veered away from that field as fewer and fewer opportunities were available within the profession.  My next choice was physical therapy – it offered the blend of science and social interaction I desired plus I was drawn to the idea of helping others (I had therapists after the surgery on my hand that were very influential ). While still living in Texas, I earned over 120 hours of college credit, both through AP exams and coursework. I was in the process of applying to a program that would allow me to complete my degree in physical therapy.

And then I moved to Georgia and lost all my hours.

My ex never went to college. He was a brilliant guy, yet he didn’t “do” school very well. He started off doing manual work, mainly carpentry related. He wasn’t content to stay in low wage jobs that didn’t stimulate him. He always wanted to learn and grow. Unfortunately, San Antonio was not exactly a hotbed of opportunities for him. As long as we stayed in our childhood city, his income would be low and he would be bored. He found a job in Atlanta and moved in October of 1998. I stayed behind until June, finishing out the lease and my year of school.

I never hesitated to move. Being with him was more important than a program in school or a dot on the map. At the time it was a no-brainer. I packed up my life, said goodbye to friends and family and drove 24 hours in a Ryder truck with a pug on my lap and a sedated kitten by my feet.

I had decided to take the fall semester off school to give me time to locate a new job and to get an idea of the city and its universities. During my second week here, I ventured out onto the interstates to tour Georgia State, located smack in the middle of downtown. By the time I pulled into a parking spot in the garage, I was in tears, shaking from the overwhelming traffic and confusing road signs. Over the next few months, I grew comfortable with the traffic and started to learn the city.

I fell in love with the campus at Oglethorpe on my first visit. It’s gothic architecture captivated me and I had romantic images of studying in its grand spaces. The grant they offered me for my academic record secured the deal. That semester was great and terrible. I was newly married. We had purchased a home. I loved being back in school and I enjoyed the classes. I was volunteering at a physical therapy clinic to learn the craft and complete the required hours for admission into a program. But then my ex’s company folded and I learned that all my credits had transferred as electives, leaving me with a seemingly endless program until I would have me degree.

I had to make a decision. Physical therapy requires a master’s degree. With my credits disappearing  like bubbles in the wind, that would take another 6 years. Six years where I would only be able to pull in minimal wages at some part time job. I made a decision to change my major, to sacrifice my dream for the financial well being of the marriage. I needed a program that I could complete at night and online, freeing up more hours for employment. I needed something that only required a bachelor’s degree. I needed a career that was stable to balance my ex’s career path, which tended towards ups and downs.

I became a teacher.

This was my choice. I was never forced. I was not coerced. I made the decision for us, for the marriage.

It turned out that I was a good teacher. I was the youngest ever recipient of the Teacher of the Year award at my former school. I quickly gained leadership roles and was considered a mentor teacher. I obtained my master’s degree in education, mainly to help bring my paycheck up to more reasonable levels. I loved creating creative and varied lessons that were engaging. I basked in the rewards of thank you notes and visits from former students. It was always a hard job, but I never questioned it.

He was always very supportive of me and helped lessen the load of my job. He would assist in the packing and unpacking that bookends every school year. He would carry in flats of water and snacks for me after Costco runs. He would prepare dinner and rub my feet after long days. He showed up at science fairs and PTA meetings. He listened to “teacher talk” when we were out with friends and sympathized with our trials. He helped to make a hard job easier.

And then he left.

And I grew angry.

It wasn’t fair. I felt trapped in a career that I had chosen for us. I made decisions that were the best for the marriage and he chose to throw the marriage away. I started to regret my choices from long ago that started me on this path. It became easier to focus on the negative aspects of teaching and fail to recognize the blessings.

I looked at options, looking to see if I could make a change. It was hard to accept that, in many ways, it was too late. My science classes were too old to count. I would have to become a fulltime student again for many years to complete the required courses. I simply couldn’t leave the known paycheck of teaching, especially while facing the debt he left me with, in order to make that kind of schooling happen.

I grew angrier.

I wanted recognition for my sacrifice. I wanted him to thank me for putting the marriage first. I wanted sympathy for the position in which he left me.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Although he was supportive during the marriage, that support stopped when he walked out the door.

As time moved on, my life began to fill with new friends and a new partner. None of them are teachers or have much experience with schooling apart from their own.  I bristled at the comments about how lucky I was to have summers off or how teachers have it easy, getting off before 5:00 pm. When someone mentioned a lunch hour, I would snap.

I began to be resentful of my days with little to no breaks, 15 minute lunches in a room with 300 teenagers and endless hours on my feet.  I wanted to be understood. I wanted to be recognized.

But not by them, the friends which were speaking from lack of knowledge.  By my ex.

I still struggle with this, especially as the demands on educators increase and the compensation decreases. I find the resentment creeping in when I come home to Brock napping on the couch. I feel it when I open my paycheck to find yet another furlough. It rears its ugly head when I am tired and overwhelmed.

I don’t want to be this way. I made the choice to be teacher and I need to stop blaming him for that decision. It has been a very rewarding career in so many ways. I have been successful and, more importantly, have influenced thousands of lives. I don’t want to be angry about it. I don’t want to feel stuck. I don’t want to get frustrated when I don’t feel understood. And I don’t want to have to find external validation and affirmation for the challenges.

I’ve addressed the feeling of being stuck by pursuing other avenues – wellness coaching and writing. Although these do not bring in enough income to replace teaching, they give me an outlet and help to pad my paycheck.

I’m better on the anger. I made the best decisions I could have in those moments. I would make those same decisions again. I need to remember the husband who was supportive and understanding, not the one who spent my paycheck on a wedding ring for the other wife.

Now, I need to address the frustration. The need for validation and commiseration. Yeah, it’s a tough job. Lots of jobs are. I’d love it if it would pay more. But I’m nowhere near alone in that complaint. I tire of the bell that drives my life, but most jobs have deadline of some sort (mine just happens to come every 55 minutes!). The days are long and the breaks are short.

But the rewards are wonderful. Every year, I get to know over a hundred teenagers at the brink of adulthood. I get to hear their stories and shape their lives. Although I am not a mother, I now have well over a thousand “kids” that write me and visit me, sharing the successes of their lives. I get to help people overcome their fear of math, often turning it into a favorite subject. I get to wear jeans on Fridays and drink coffee from an endless selection of gifted mugs. I can act silly and stupid with no fear.  In fact, the sillier I am, the more they learn. I can help new teachers learn the craft and I can share my lessons with others (I was recently filmed by the Department of Education for a database of exemplary teaching!). I can use my skills to help improve the status of teachers in our society, bringing professionalism to a job that is frequently underappreciated.

I am choosing to let go of the anger and frustration. I am choosing to be thankful for a career that has allowed me to grow as a person and help others grow as well. I am choosing to not seek what I want from ex from the others around me; that’s not their burden to carry.

It is often said that those who can’t, teach. I disagree.

Well, I can. And I choose to teach.

But I’ll still take a foot rub if one is offered:)

Work is Like a Gas

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Chemistry 1965

Work is like a gas.

It expands to fill its allotted space.

As a teacher, I have fixed hours: 8:30-4:30 M-F. That time is entirely consumed with meetings, conferences, tutoring and, let’s not forget, instruction. That means that I have to find time outside of that window to prepare lessons, write materials and grade papers.

In my old life, I let that work expand unbounded into all areas of my life. I showed up at work at 7:00 when the custodians were the only other life in the building.  I worked in the evenings, grading papers while watching a movie with my husband. Half of my Saturday would be spent in front of the computer, planning lessons and writing materials. Even vacations weren’t sacred – I would frequently have a bag of work by my feet as we drove off to some destination.

During the divorce, I realized that I needed to set boundaries. I still came into school early, but I refused to take work home. I liked that morning time – it was bound by the bell that started the day. Much to my surprise, I found that I could still get done much of what I needed to. The lessons weren’t as fleshed out, but my years of experience had long since made that unneccessary. The activities weren’t as neat and typo-free, but it turns out that 8th graders don’t really care (or even notice) and a type doesn’t limit learning. Occasionally, I felt rushed or unprepared when something came up unexpectedly at the last moment. But that happened when I worked all of the time, too.

Last year, when I started my 28 day mediation challenge, I pushed my start time back to 7:30 so that I a few precious moments in the morning where I could meditate without having to get up at an even more ridiculous time. It was heaven. I arrived at work rested and calm. The centered mind more than made up for the missing half hour.

This year, I told myself that I would start the year by going in at 7:00 to allow time for the added workload of the beginning of the school year. I promised myself that I would move that back to 7:30 by the end of the 1st quarter.

It’s now the 3rd quarter and I’ve only walked through the doors after 7:00 a handful of times. In fact, it’s been closer to 6:45 on most mornings.

What went wrong? Why am I allowing this time? Do I really need it or am I just afraid that I will fall behind if I do not allow that extra half hour? I’ve been feeling unbalanced with work this year – it’s taking more energy and causing more stress than I would like.

What would happen if I narrow its container? Bound it with walls that restrict its flow? Would that found time restore balance?

I intend to find out.

Beginning today.

I Can’t Right Now

Posted on by stilllearning2b

There is a particular yoga sequence (crescent lunge into a bird of paradise) that used to vex me. I simply couldn’t get my body to twist and open to accomplish the pose. My first attempt was a bit of a disaster but it was also a learning experience.

Every time I enter the yoga studio, I encounter a pose or sequence that is beyond me. I used to tell myself, “I can’t do that” and, after a reasonable number of attempts, I would simply stop trying, thus proving myself right. What I have come to realize is that I need to tell myself, “I can’t do that right now.” That statement acknowledges the truth in the moment but also recognizes that it can change. “I can’t right now” leaves you free to try again and leaves your mind open to the possibilities.

Oh, and that sequence that used to stop me cold? I can now do it with ease. Of course, last Sunday, the instructor added a twisted bird of paradise. I can’t do that….yet.