My friend was at home, recovering. I offered to bring groceries, or a perhaps a cooked meal. I inquired, what do you need?
One word response: Time. Her pointed response stopped me: the one thing I couldn’t go and buy or cook and deliver.
The month began with a spirited conversation with my 18-year-old son about his no shave November appearance. I inquired with an air of mom suspicion, “Remind me again, why are you not shaving?”
Make The Ordinary Come Alive – Do not ask your children to strive for extraordinary lives. Such striving may seem admirable, but it is a way of foolishness.
Today is my mother’s birthday. She would have been 73 years old. I think she probably liked Noam Chomsky, although I can’t say for sure.
In late August, I returned to work. I teach two-year-olds. I wish I could report that I entered my sweet preschool with the pep of a high school cheerleader, but I can’t.
I returned home from a week long training on Infant and Toddler Development, the 0-3 years. We spent days discussing brain development, attunement, and attachment.
Yesterday, I had a tooth extraction, so I spent the day moving very slowly. I read an article in Lion’s Roar about Maryland’s Poet Laureate Grace Cavalier, who shared the idea that reading and writing poetry can slow people down.
My resume contains an accounting of my development as a professional, yet it is missing a few important details about who I am, really.
Mud season is real. For the first years of my life, I lived on a farm in northern New Hampshire, where spring meant longer days and warmer sun.
I am beginning again; returning to the practice of sitting mediation. I began my graduate work at Naropa University in August of 2006, where part of my counseling studies included a mediation class.