My Philosophy...

The best we can hope for in life is that we have laughed often and loved much, and that at the end of our days we can honestly say we have lived a life of integrity, have few, if any, regrets, and that we have told the people who matter how very much they made our hearts sing.

As I reflect upon a life well lived, I think to myself, "what advice would I give others?". It seems so obvious to me but I've come to realize that perhaps it's only so because I find myself in a position to be reflective, to take stock and to judge how successful I've been in the areas that really count. So here goes:

Have a sense of humor. Face life with a smile on your face. And, for the love of God, never, ever take yourself too seriously.

When it's important, tell people how you feel no matter how difficult it is to express, how uncomfortable it may feel in the moment, or how much of yourself you have to expose. You alone are accountable to and for yourself and you must be your own advocate.

Make sure your actions exemplify your words. For they speak far louder than tiny utterances ever will.

Deal with anger, frustration or general crankiness in constructive ways... don't take things out on people who have no control of your world or did not contribute to the problem at hand.

Support others' efforts to live their best lives, whatever that means to them, even if it's not the path you would choose for yourself or have them choose for themselves. Express concerns if you have them and be honest, but ultimately, it's their choice... and often choice, not chance, determines destiny.

Appreciate even the smallest acts of kindness. Practice your own random and specific, planned acts of kindness on a daily basis.

Know who you are when no one is looking.

Apologize when you need to... and even when you're not sure you need to. No one will ever fault you for apologizing... but a lack thereof is ultimately egotistical.

Pick your battles, and never, ever pick petty things, for they are seldom worth the fight.

Give people choices. No one wants to be backed into a corner and you can't control other people's words or actions anyway.

Carefully consider your options so that the choices you make do not lead to regret.

Be spontaneous but never reckless in words or actions.

Remember that life is short and experience as much as you can, journey as often as possible... and take the road less traveled when you do.

Another Resident Writer

As I sat on the sofa trying not to bleed on pretty pink satin, wondering how on earth I managed to birth a child whose passion requires that I singe ribbons and sew things with sharp needles and dental floss, said child looked at me with those baby blues and said, "You know, mom, writing is kinda my thing."

It wasn't really news to me, she used to shut herself in her room for hours and write and illustrate stories, but I asked her if she had something new she wanted to share. She'd been working on a poem for a county contest, the theme of which this year is Beauty and had just finished it.

Beauty is Dance
- by Exhibit A

Dancing is meaning
Beauty in both
Dancing is feeling
Love with no words

Dancing is flawless
Worshipping perfection
Dancing is art
Picasso with no brush

Dancing is passion
Knowing what you want
Dancing is grace
Walking with talent

Dancing is learning
No wisdom too much
Dancing is breath taking
Stunningly elegant
Dancing is Beauty

And so it seems that at her young age she's already figured out that when you write from your heart, when you write about that which you are passionate, you create unparalleled beauty in your words.

Athlete's Honor

We often forget that listening to our bodies and respecting the recovery process is just as important as tackling the difficult training tasks that become part of everyday life. So many athletes don't realize that it is, actually, through recovery, whether within or outside of a given workout, that our bodies do their best training. The more fit you become, the more quickly you recover. Athletes that are plagued with chronic injuries are typically those that don't know the meaning of rest days or sidelines or how to fine tune their bodies enough to know when to keep pushing and know when to say nada mas.

There are two ways to honor your body. The first is to know when and how to challenge it. The other is to know when to back off.

Really?

We all have our crosses to bear and yours are no greater than mine. I realize it's all relative and, frankly, I am a believer that we are not given more than we can handle; however, it does seem that some of us must endure more, must work through pain, be it physical or emotional, time and time again, must experience highs and lows that come from a place so seemingly unmerciful that at times you can do little more than scratch your head and think... really?

Fancy Things

If I were to bottle my teaching philosophy and magically build a school from it, the result would be quite similar to Exhibit B's Fancy Schmancy school. As I sat through curriculum night tonight I couldn't help but tear up just a little out of the sheer joy I felt over being able to offer him this experience.

You see, the thing is, they had me at "we are not textbook based" on the school tour a few months back when I was considering applying. They reinforced it with talk of Lucy Caulkins, inquiry-based and experiential learning, curriculum integration, constructivism, literature circles and global citizenship. Tonight, however, what got me was far less theoretical than that. While the teachers were talking about the curriculum they were showing a slide show of photographs of the kids engaged in their everyday activities. One, in particular, caught my eye. It was a picture of Exhibit B doing a freewrite while nestled amongst the high branches of a tree.

In that moment I realized that it doesn't matter, the cost or the sacrifice, because he is, already, forever changed by this opportunity.

Admittedly, I sat in that room this evening feeling like an imposter... as though I didn't belong. I can barely afford this school but would gladly give up a million and one fancy things to keep Exhibit B there for the next 5 years. I listened to them talk about the annual fund and the price range on what things go for at the spring auction... and felt kinda sick.

When I juxtapose the financial burden with what's happening in my life right now, I find it all just a little bit surreal. However, at the end of the day, if my child's education is the fanciest thing I've got going on, I am perfectly OK with that. And then some.

Speechless...

Dearest Mr. A,

It's 11:54 PM. I just got the news and I. Am. Speechless. So I sat down at my computer to let my fingers do the talking because sometimes they work better than my brain. If you were here, you'd tell me that writing is cheaper than therapy and likely make a joke about me being "just this side of crazy". The more I think about it, the more I think you might have had a good point.

There were so many days when your dry sense of humor brought a smile to my face. I can't remember a time when you didn't have a Starbucks cup in your hand. I think of you whenever I hear the Fast and Furious soundtrack. You knew the importance of a good pair of shoes. I often thought that if I came to your classes and just did the warm-up with the girls that I'd have the rockin'est core around. I've watched my daughter dance many dances and know, with great certainty, that the best she's ever done were those she did for you. You pushed hard but there was never a question about just how much you truly cared. I can't count the number of awards you won for your breathtaking choreography. You shared your gift, your passion, your creativity and raw talent with and motivated many, many young dancers, some of whom have gone onto greatness as a direct result of your influence.

I had my suspicions, you know, about what was going on, but kept them to myself even when we had those long talks. I wanted to come to the hospital last week but got the word that you were in ICU and only family members were able to visit. Somehow, given your strength and youth, it never dawned on me that you might not bounce back this time. I wish I'd had an opportunity to say good-bye. You've been taken away from us far too soon. Life's twists and turns are often cruel, and my children know this already. However, I haven't yet found the words to even try to begin to explain it to She Who Was Over the Moon That You selected Her To Be In Your Company This Year... a.k.a. She Who Dreamed Ballerina Dreams Of Dancing Arabian with You Someday... she who doesn't understand things like this... because really, none of us do.

Rest in peace, dear Mr. A, knowing that the world is a little less bright without you in it, realizing that you were loved unconditionally by all those whose lives you touched, and that you will be remembered by each of us, not only for who you were, but for what you inspired.

With Great Respect and Affection,
TCP

So why do I leave these stories unfinished?

Recently several folks have accused me of being "cryptic" in my writing, announcing, as though I ought to be concerned, that they don't really always know about what I'm talking. Yet, I notice that they keep stopping by, which tells me that even though these musings are not really start to finish stories, my words still draw emotion and create a connection.

I think it's an interesting concept, really. The underlying idea of someone saying that they don't know why I was sitting by a lake in the middle of the night seeking out swans or what it meant that my kingdom was shattered is that my life should be an open book or that, perhaps, I blog for others' amusement instead of for my own edification. There's an air of frustration about it on their part, I think, as if they might believe I somehow owe them more and are unclear as to why I would purposely leave them with more questions than answers.

Maybe it's simply because my stories are still unfinished, or maybe it's because I know how they will end but am not quite ready to share them, or maybe I'm just a tease like that, or maybe it's because I'm an intensely private person, maybe it's because for me, self-realizaation lies not in a 3.5 essay, but rather in random thoughts, or maybe, just maybe, it's because that which makes us wonder... question... contemplate... is that which is far more interesting and far more powerful than actually knowing.

And so I'll leave it at that and head off to stare at the world. The circus awaits.