loverly wings

coming this weekend.  after this ridiculous week is over.  sorry for the delay…

xo

a

according to my site meter, it looks like my students and/or people from my district have found me (HELLO, KIDS!)

i’ve emailed a link to the new spot…if you want it, write me…

My life at this moment is comprised of:

new teacher training.  credential classes every night.  new friends.  taco bell.  craving chocolate.  lesson plans.  Rob, Arnie and Dawn.  shopping for a new laptop.  moments of insecurity.  lots of laughter.  crying tears of joy, stress, and nervousness.  shopping for my classroom.  Michael Buble.  nightmares about showing up to teach naked.  learning how to deal with people i don’t like.  writing, revising, re-writing lesson plans, procedures, etc.  no sleep.  being scared and wanting my parents.  my amazing roommate being her amazing self.  mindless movies.  heat.  the smell of marc jacobs.  nars foundation. 

 life is good…and busy.  hope life is good for you, too.

Last night, I had the chance to watch the documentary The Bridge, which documents and discusses in detail people who committed suicide by jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge.  I know, I know…I live for those uplifting, family films :)  Anyways, it was heartbreaking.  Heartbreaking because I could relate.  I’ve discussed it here before, but for those who are new/have forgotten, I attempted suicide nearly two years ago, when I was at the lowest point of my life.  I am happy to report that life has changed drastically since then; that I am now happy, healthy and doing just fine, thankyou.  I was both looking forward to seeing this film that I’ve heard amazing things about, but also scared: would it take me back?  Would I feel overwhelmed with sadness?  Would it populate my head with thoughts of how I, too, could end my life?

The film did none of those scary things.  It broke me, yes.  I had such a hard time listening to the parents and friends of the deceased talking about the person they’d loved.  Some of them seemed unsurprised, willing to give up the fight; others seemed devastated.  The reactions varied, but all carried such sadness for the people they’d lost.  Naturally, my thoughts turned to the thoughts of what my loved ones would have said, had I been successful.  I’m glad I never had to think about it.

Looking back on that time in my life, I feel such gratitude for the place I’m in.  No, life has not been perfect.  I’ve endured major struggles and heartaches that nearly choked me to death.  But I’m living.  I’m off meds, I’m doing a job I love, I’ve got amazing people in my life.  Life is sweet.  Not perfect, but sweet none the less.  And I’ve got the chance to make it sweeter everyday. 

Even though working 7-3 and going to school from 4-9 Monday to Friday is currently killing me {not helped by my choice to attend the midnight showing of Harry Potter last night!}, I must admit that school quite agrees with me.  I love to learn; I always have and I assume that I always will.  Tonight, we watched the most inspirational video about teaching preschoolers as part of our Child Development unit for my credential.  The woman, Bev Boss reminds me of SARK for teachers.  She advocates 3 main things in children’s learning: wonder, discovery and experience.  Her preschool was a veritable rainbow of art and creativity.  Instead of having blocked out time for art and creativity, she let’s kids explore all day long.  Bev speaks on the importance of helping kids develop a sense of self, a grasp of their own uniqueness.  For all of you mama-teacher-creative types, I implore you: check out her stuff!  I guarantee that you will be inspired.

During our class discussion, I found myself so motivated to come up with ideas for my students to be creative, to help them embrace who they are as unique humans.  As we discussed it in our seminar, I found myself filling with passion.  And then: the classmate.  She immediately lowered the excitement by reminding us of all of the standards, benchmarks, testing and curriculum rules we have to follow, stating that there is simply “no time” for creativity and worrying about how our students develop emotionally.  I felt myself get angry because I felt like it was such a cop out; I felt she was giving up without even giving it a try.  It broke my heart for the students we serve, but as I sat there thinking, I realized that it broke my heart for me, too.

 How often are we so caught up in the “standards”?  We have to have a clean house, an organized schedule, lose weight, be nicer, etc. before we can spend any sort of free time in wonder and joy.  How often do we give ourselves permission to discover, to let loose, to really experience our world?  For me, despite my best efforts, those times are few and far between, because I feel like I have so many other “benchmarks” to meet before I can do that.

And then it hit me: there are opportunities for wonder, for discovery, for experience in the every day.  It’s noticing the moon while driving at night; it’s tasting the cookie dough; it’s playing in paint and making a bigger mess.  It’s taking ordinary moments, and making them extraordinary.  I know we’ve all read, said and heard this a million times, but I urge you, friends to find the wonder, to discover something new and to experience your life full throttle today.

I’m fully engulfed in preparations for becoming a first year teacher.  My first day of instruction is July 30th; however, I am there to orient my brand new 7th graders on July 26th.  Yes, that’s just 20 days away.  I started my accelerated credential program last night.  I’m still working 50+ hours a week at the residential facility, while attending class from 4-9 pm Monday-Friday.  To say the least, I am overwhelmed.

The good thing is that I am excited beyond words to get started.  I am a bona fide dork, and I absolutely ADORE school.  I am loving sitting in class every night, learning all sorts of things and getting ideas.  I am reading everything I can on teaching and have started dreaming, scheming and actually planning my lessons out.  While I find myself nervous and scared to actually start, I am beginning to feel that yes, I can do this.  I am ready, I have the knowledge, the desire.  For the first time in quite some time, I find myself absolutely ecstatic to excel and succeed and amaze myself, my students and my administrators.  I feel like I am in the right place, going in the right direction and on the path where I belong.

The even better thing is that I find this confidence extending to other parts of my life.  I’m feeling more in control, less helpless and more capable than I have in a long time.  That “mojo” I was referring to as lost earlier seems to be found…and that, my friends, is a good thing.

 Happy weekend!

“all the wonders which you are seeking are already within…”

{sir thomas brown}

It’s “summer break” at work, meaning we are free from the clutches of the classroom and embark on daily outings.  Today was the local aquatic complex, complete with slide and diving boards and all sorts of good things.  I was the designated “fun staff” and spent most of my day getting a worse sunburn than the one I’m already rockin’ and chasing girls all over tarnation.  I had a great time–water agrees with me.

 My girls and I were waiting in line for the high dive, and I was engaging in some light-hearted trash talking.  One of them was really nervous about going up the stairs and actually diving off.  I was teasing her, telling her not to be a baby and laughing at her for being so silly.  Then it was my turn.  As I mounted the ladder, I was gripped with fear.  It’s been years since I’ve been on the high dive…and the older I get, the more afraid of heights I am.  As I got higher and higher, I found myself more and more afraid.  As I got out on the board, I looked out at the sea of faces and heard my girls cheering me on, taunting me, daring me.  I stopped, and looked back.  It would have been so much easier for me to just climb back down the ladder.  I was truly petrified.

Of course, as all good stories end, I ran to the edge and jumped off.  And yes, it made my stomach turn and my ears pop and the whole bit.  But it was worth it.  And even though it was a little thing, I was damn proud of myself.  Sure, it wasn’t the scariest jump in the world, but for just a minute, I was tempted to let fear overcome me.  And I didn’t.

Life feels like one big high dive right now…and while sometimes it feels like it’d be easier to run back down the ladder, I won’t.

I spent the first part of my weekend up in the Lake Tahoe area visiting my girlfriend Maria, her husband Josh and their beautiful children.  My other gorgeous friend, Tasha and her daughter, mom and I set out on Friday afternoon and we got back late last night.  I’m not sure what happens when the three of us are united, but it’s amazing.  We were discussing all of the things that have happened over the 6+ years that we’ve been friends…ends of relationships, start of new relationships, death of a parent and a child, marriage, divorce, pregnancy, infertility, depression, incredible happiness and so many other changes.  And while our friendship may not have remained as close as it is now, it has remained.  These women are my sisters.  This weekend was about grieving and healing, celebrating and releasing.  I am blessed by these friendships because they are not friendships that simply remain on the surface; they are friendships where we are safe to go into the real issues in our lives, to share honestly and to work and grow and heal together. 

Maria was just certified as a massage therapist (I recruit all of my friends!) and is incredibly gifted when it comes to energy work.  As she worked on me yesterday, she spent a lot of time over my heart chakra, and as she unblocked it, I began to cry.  As someone who also works with energy, I knew where I was blocked, and that I needed to release.  But here, in the company of someone I love and trust, I was able to release those feelings of anger and sadness, disappointment in myself and my past choices.  And it felt so good, so beautiful to free those things.  Between our great conversations, time spent at the lake in wonderful nature and the energy work done, I left feeling refreshed and renewed.

I am so grateful…

I want to unfold,

I don’t want to stay folded anywhere,

because when I am folded there, I am a lie.

And I want my grasp of things

true before you.  I want to describe myself

like a painting that I looked closely at for a long time,

like a saying that I finally understood,

like the pitcher I use every day,

like the face of my mother,

like the ship

that took me safely

through the wildest storm of all…

{Ranier Maria Rilke}

I am sad to report that I’ve been feelin’ pretty down on myself the past few days.  Yesterday was mostly a tear-filled fog.  I did my best to cope: painted, wrote, ate some chocolate, and succumbed to the mercy of my boss, who allowed me to get out of the house and go shopping for her, a much-needed and appreciated break away from the spawns of Satan  girls.  I am not sure, besides my anniversary, what exactly prompted this little downward cycle.

I do know, however, that I am making progress.  Here’s my way of thinkin’: it’s easy to see where I screwed it up.  I can go back and pinpoint wrong turns and unhealthy, self-destructive behaviors and coulda-shoulda-woulda’s.  That isn’t difficult.  But the new and mighty challenge ahead is to stop wallowing, stop making poor choices, stop focusing on all of the crap. 

This gorgeous poem by Rilke resonates with me, because it’s true that folded here, I am a lie.  I am not meant to be crushed by my previous choices.  I am not meant to stay small and hunkered down.  No, I am meant to soar.  I am meant to overcome.  And perhaps the biggest gift is that I do know myself.  If I have learned anything in this year and a half, it is myself.  I have learned what I like and don’t like, what time I like to get up and go to sleep, what food I like and hate, who I want and don’t want in my life, how to live alone and with others, who I will and won’t date, what my “limit” is.  I’ve learned that I am not a hard partier (despite my best efforts) and that sex will always have strings for me.  I’ve learned that I can be lazy and whiney; I’ve also learned that I am resilient and kind, smart and witty.  I’ve been through therapy and off meds and through tears.  I’ve loved and lost, laughed and cried, learned more than I ever would have dreamed and finally stepped into my own.   

I have come to recognize myself as a vessel that may have gone off course but ultimately, I am a ship that has never, ever failed me, even through the wildest storm of all…

And this vessel is on a new course.  I’m in the process of writing my new, improved Mondo Beyondo list, drafting a new schedule for myself.  I’m carving out time for those I hold dear, and letting go of things that don’t serve me.  I’m reading voraciously, soaking in delicious baths, painting in my art journal, seeking out cool lesson plans and trying to store up energy for this grand adventure I’m about to embark on…