Aspiring Adults

They said,

"Just enjoy your childhood

don't grow up so fast. 

You have plenty of time to be an adult.

Adulthood will come soon enough."

But I didn't listen

and now here I am

standing in my classroom

saying the same thing to a new bunch of aspiring adults.

They roll their eyes and think they know best.

Adulthood seems so much better than

middle school.

They dream of storming the doors 

breaking out 

and running free.

There are dreams to catch,

places to go,

and people to become.

A clean slate to mark up 

and make of it what they choose.

They think they're ready

to face the world.

They stop for a minute,

hesitancy flickers in their eyes.

The unknown

 so scary

but, oh so, liberating.

The school bell rings and the energy fades

I sit at my desk. I remember-

those were the days...

Oh to be young again

I think for a moment as if it's all gone.

But wait,

could it be?

Could that be me again?

Could I chase the unknown?

Could I storm the doors

and catch my dreams?

Just maybe

that could be me...

Easing into the New Year: 2 Toes at a Time

As I sit and think about 2017, I feel like I should have some deep and profound insight... I mean, why write if I don't have something good to say, right?! I stare at my computer screen. Scroll through old pictures. Type in "motivational quotes". Nothing. I have nothing. So I ask myself, how do you feel about the new year? Logical question, I'd say. But it's grey and not very inspirational.

Fear

Anxiety

Nervous

Worry

I've always had a hundred worries. A thousand what ifs. And a million prayers: God, don't forget about me. God, are you sure you've got this? God, I know you hear me.

In my trusting, I've always been a doubter.

Isn't it funny how easy it is to stay in the comfort zone, even if the comfort zone is a little crazy? Same cycle. Different day, different year. Anybody with me?

One of these years I will go into the new year feeling ready to conquer the world, spoken to myself with a shaky voice for the last 15 years. Ha. Wow. I'm really motivating today...

But even in my doubt, even in my depressing and unmotivating moments, there is always the soft whisper deep in my knowing. We all have it. You know, the whisper that keeps you going...

~ ~ ~

So here it is, Sheila. 

2017. You are unsure of this year. The what ifs, worries and doubts are mounting, but you must keep moving forward. You've always been an easer-inner. Two toes into the pool at a time. Never jumping. Never cannon balling. Just one tiny, little step at a time. It takes you 25 minutes to get into the pool, but you do it, eventually. Friends yell, "just jump!" But nope. Slow and steady. Easing the whole way in. So let's start there. Let's ease into the new year; two toes at at time. Here are three goals to get you easing:

Goal 1: Trust
You know God's got you, so trust this! Trust in God's protection, love, and unending work in your life. He hasn't failed you yet; He isn't going to. No matter how much you doubt and worry.... he's still got you! Deep down you know this. Trust this!

Goal 2: Listen
God is showing you every day your next step. They are mostly small and steady steps. They aren't big and grandeous so you must listen for the whisper. Ease with him, one toe, two toes, maybe even an entire foot at a time. Movement will take you to places you don't imagine. You just have to listen for your next step.

Goal 3: See
There is beauty in everything, you just have to see it. Look for it. Seek it out. In the dark and bright moments. In the anger and happiness. The shallow and hollow. The broken and bound. Strive to see the beauty. It is there and it will inspire you to keep easing forward.

Two toes at a time.

Now, let's go. You don't have to jump, ease if you have to, but it's time to move.

Sincerely,
A familiar voice

A Paper Star

Image from google

Guys! My heart is filled with this beautiful picture of Christmas and I must absolutely share it with you!

I would like to tell you a story. A story I witnessed where the two main characters (13 year old boys whose names have been changed) reminded me of the true meaning of Christmas.

~~The Confession~

It all started with one heartbreaking confession.

Students mingled around cutting, crafting and chatting. Most students were talking about what they were going to do on their Christmas break while others intently focused on cutting and gluing. One boy, Philip, sat a few seats away from the rest of the students. It was difficult to get him to participate.

"I've never gotten one single Christmas present in my whole life," Philip mumbled under his breath as he wrote out a Christmas card to his pen pal.

Most students, including I, didn't hear this heartfelt confession, but Jared did.

Jared is quiet and soft spoken. It takes him a few moments to get his thoughts from the depths of his inner self and out into the spoken universe, but when you let enough time hang there, something thoughtful eventually transpires. He's the kind of kid who has little at home. Very little. I can't imagine it, really, but nonetheless, he always has something to give.

On most days he brings me an apple after lunch.

"Miss Blewett, I brought you an apple from my lunch." He would always quickly place the apple on my desk and pitter-patter away to his own. This happened more days than not. He is generous even in his need. He is heartfelt and sensitive even though his home life is rough and harsh.

It was, of course, Jared who heard the heartbreaking confession everyone else ignored.

Quietly, but not discretely because teenagers hardly do anything discretely, Jared started talking to a girl nearby. They kept saying Philip's name loud enough for me to hear. I quickly walked over and asked if they needed to talk with me out in the hall. I didn't want Philip to overhear them talking about him. Philip is unpredictable and anything puts him on edge. Jared slowly and compassionately nodded yes.

"You see, Miss Blewett, I overheard Philip saying he has never ever received a Christmas gift. That is heartbreaking, just heartbreaking." He said it as if his own heart was breaking at that exact moment. He slowly continued as he paced back and forth, "I was telling Caroline that we should get him a gift, but she said that Philip is rude to everyone and he doesn't deserve a gift." He paused with thought beaming from his eyes. I knew Caroline was right about the rude part. Philip struggles socially and he can sometimes be pretty rude. For a moment, I caught myself siding with Caroline. There was even a part of me that doubted Philip's confession, but I waited, knowing if I paused long enough, something very thoughtful would transpire.

"But just because you are rude, doesn't mean you shouldn't get a Christmas gift. Everyone deserves a Christmas gift," he declared confidently.

There it was. The thought, heart and meaning of Christmas spoken straight from the mouth of a 13 year old boy.

"Oh, Jared, there are many ways to give gifts," I said this knowing he couldn't afford to buy a gift. "You could write a letter or draw a picture. You are one special kiddo to think of this, Jared," I mumbled while trying to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. "Let's go back into class. While you are working, you can think of what you could give him."

~~The Gift~~

As Jared walked back into class, I was positive he would forget about his burst of compassion. Teenagers say a lot of funny and thoughtful things and then forget when the next exciting moment comes. Surely this was one of those moments. 

The next day I was busy teaching my first block class when Jared and another teacher came in. 

"Do you mind if we leave this in here? It's the gift Jared made for Philip," the teacher said softly. Jared stood with a smile on his face. 

It was a beautiful, giant paper crafted star that could hang like an ornament or from a ceiling. It had a hand written card stapled on one end of the star and a candy cane hanging from the other end. 

"Look, I put a card on one end and a candy cane on the other," Jared whispered as he pointed proudly. 

I looked up at the teacher and smiled. It was evident she had done most of the grunt work to get the star looking so beautiful. 

They quickly rushed out of the room and I stood there feeling proud and worried all at the same time. You see, teenage boys (and girls) can be mean. We know it's just a mask to hide all their awkward, junior high insecurities, but nonetheless, kind gestures can often be received with eye rolling, smirks, and snarky thank yous. It's not that they don't truly appreciate the gesture, it's just that they don't know how to stand in the vulnerability. I was worried about how Philip would accept this gift because, all teenage hormones aside, Philip is rude, but Jared is right. Even though someone is rude or mean, doesn't mean he/she don't deserve a gift. 

I decided to pull Philip aside in class and prep him; kind of socially coach him before the gift was given to him. 

"So Philip," I started hesitantly, unsure of how he would receive my coaching. "Jared said he heard you talking yesterday about how you've never gotten a Christmas gift." I paused hoping to receive something affirming from him.  He shook his head yes. "Well, Jared felt sad about this so he made you a gift. He will give it to you after class today. Remember, when we receive a gift, we smile and say thank you." It seemed like such common sense, but for most teenagers with broken homes, common sense wasn't so common. He smiled and walked back into class. 

~~The Reveal~~

The bell rang.

"Merry Christmas, everyone! Be safe and see you in the new year! I hollered as everyone ran out of the class. For a moment I forgot about the big reveal, but Philip quickly ran up to me and waited at my side.

"Do you have a question?" I asked. 

"No." Philip whispered. "I'm just waiting for the gift and I'm trying to act surprised."

"Oh, yes! Ok. Hey Jared, do you want to give your gift now?" I asked as I made sure the room had been cleared of all the other students. Jared smiled and ran behind my desk to grab his gift. As he lifted the paper star up, his shoulders rolled back and he stood a little taller. 

"Here Philip! I made this for you... I hope you like it...."

Philip's eyes grew big as he saw the beautiful paper star. He was truly surprised. It was written in the sparkle of his eyes. 

"Thanks, man. No one has ever done this for me." Philip reached over and gave Jared a big hug. Jared smiled.

"You're welcome!" And he pitter-pattered out of the room. 

Philip kept standing there looking at the giant star. He looked up at me and whispered, "I'm going to hang this in my room! This is awesome." I smiled at him as I held back the tears and thought to myself, now this is a perfect picture of the true meaning of Christmas.

Our own script of Thanksgiving

It was, coincidentally, the day after the election results when my students and I discussed why it is important to stop and reflect on all we are thankful for.

~ ~ ~

"It is so easy to focus on all of the bad in our lives that we forget to focus on all the good." 

"The more we look at what we have in our lives, the more kind we are." 

"Even when bad things are going on, we can see there is always good going on in our lives, too." 

"When we are thankful, our hearts are fuller." 

~ ~ ~

Those were just a few of the answers students blurted with very little leading or prompting. 

A little background to this discussion: on November 1 my students started logging one thing each day they are thankful for. They will do this each day until we leave for Thanksgiving break. This gives them about 15 days of logs of which they cannot repeat a post. I haven't exactly explained all the learning targets or objectives for this writing activity (yes teachers, I know this isn't the way we are told to teach), I've just let them write and I've been surprised at how deep my student's hearts of gratitude have dug. 

I'm thankful for

my blanket

my family

my home

my bed

my free education

teachers who care

my grandparents who take care of me while my mom is sick

my dad's job

my bike to get me places

my little sister because she is all I have

food in my refrigerator

books to read -the ability to read.

music to calm my mind and heart

shoes

clean water

and the list goes on

The comments from above came last Wednesday morning when I asked my students why they thought I would have them do such a writing activity. I stood proud and surprised as I listened to them rattle off all the insight I hoped they would glean from such an activity. It is not that I am surprised when my students give me smart and insightful answers; they teach and help me glean new insight often. Instead, I wished I could have recorded their mature answers for the world to hear. For America to hear... (the dot dot dot is so necessary as I could diverge here into a hundred different tangents, but will refrain.) 

In an effort to not spin this into a political post, I want to keep this post focused on the upcoming holiday when we each write our own script of thanksgiving. A day where we hopefully laugh, unite, cook, eat, and be merry. Where we reflect on all we are thankful for. Where we enjoy our loved ones. Cherish the home we have toiled for. Embrace the moments which will soon be memories. Hug and kiss the necks of those who walk day-in and day-out with us. Give thanks for the abundant blessings that have been bestowed upon us. Because there are so many. 

As my students said, even when it seems like there is so much to complain about, 

let us focus on all the good we have in our lives because there is truly so much. 

I'm more excited for this Thanksgiving holiday than ever before because I need it. I need to move my mind into a season of gratitude. I need to be thankful because there is so much to be thankful for. 

So I raise my figurative glass to you and toast:

May this be a Thanksgiving season like none other. 

When we embrace a thankful spirit,  

 lean into the good 

and let go of any other.



**
If you would like to spend more time reading and thinking about Thanksgiving, check this post out from a few years ago: Dear Gratitude

Peter Pan Syndrome

I was sitting in my first master's class. I fidgeted with my pencil, pulled out my paper and adjusted in the most uncomfortable, padded seat. I looked around the room making mental notes about the other students. Yes, I'm the type who makes quick assumptions about others and tries to size up the room for the soul purpose of seeing where I fall into the mix; leaving my huge insecurities bleeding all over the desk in front of me.

"You are here because you are interested in starting your own private practice business," said the professor.

Um.... no.... I'm here for the play therapy class, I thought.

Apparently the class title and what the professor was planning to teach were two very different things.

I started classes to pursue a masters in counseling; my first adult step forward in about 10 years. I'm not positively convinced this is the road for me, but I also know I can't just keep doing the same old. I know it's time for me to take a step forward and this is the only step I want to take right now. I think. Maybe.

Awesome, I'm taking a course I should probably be taking at the end of my school career, I thought as the professor continued to mumble something about private practice, of which I didn't understand. I looked around to see if anyone else was just as lost as me but, of course, it was just me. I settled into my seat, quickly realizing it was going to be a long weekend. Ugh.

Later in the evening the professor began talking about dreams. "Why do you want to open up your own business? Why do you want to counsel children, individuals and families? If nothing was stopping you, what would you want to do with your time and energy? Write down your thoughts. Don't let your pencil stop you. You are the only one who can stop yourself. The time is now to turn those has been dreams into reality."

As I looked down at my pencil and paper, a moment flooded over me. It was this moment of realization that I am an adult right now. (Duh!) I do have the potential to complete school and open up a business and do what I love to do. (Duh!) I am no longer a child in waiting or a teenager in training. I am here. I am an adult. It is time. I've dreamed of getting my master's degree and now here I am, sitting in this seat, doing what I thought I would do... someday.

Now, I do realize how basic all of this sounds, but have you ever stopped and really realized the time is not in the past or what's to come, but the time is now!? Cliche, I know, but true nonetheless. Is it just me or do you ever feel like you are just a big-little kid masquerading through life waiting for the real act to start? Like all we do is play house and work and somehow we keep waiting for the real life to settle in. Except it's here -this is the adult life we've been waiting for. It's right now.

Maybe I'm the only one stuck in a Peter Pan kind of syndrome.

Don't get me wrong. I know why I avoid all responsibilities of adulthood. It's easier to live for the adventure, not thinking about tomorrow. It's easier to spend the money today rather than save for tomorrow. It's easier eating the delicious dessert and promising to work it off tomorrow. I want to live in the comfortable life of today; it's easier this way. However, I'm learning that easy doesn't always mean it's the best for me.

Suffice it to say, thanks to the class I wasn't expecting to take, I'm starting to realize that I can't keep living so close to Never Never Land. Now is the time to start making dreams, real dreams that I've always had, come true.

What dreams do you have? You know, the kind that keep getting put off for when you are a real adult with real money and real potential?

Eyes on the Ball (or frisbee)

Dogs.

Who doesn't love them?!

My dogs are like my children. I treat them like my children, too. I talk to them and when I say that, I mean I have full on conversations with them and I know they know what I'm saying. Some days they are precious and adorable and all I want to do is snuggle with them. Then there are the other days where they cause havoc on the house and their energy level outlasts mine for the entire evening. They are my joy and pain all in two little fur balls. I'm sure this is how moms of real humans feel except the older the real human gets, the more back talk there is and I guess there is probably more mess too.

Since I'm now in my 30s and still do not have children, it can be difficult, at times, to relate to my friends with kiddos... but thankfully, my dogs keep me dialed into the momma language, at least a little bit. (Okay, Okay, moms, I know it's not the same at all, but just let me go with it.)

My dog, Scout is quite the persistent little one. She is a Border Collie/Australian Shepherd mix. She has only one love in the entire world. Fetch.

She loves fetch so much that I swear she would play it until she fell over from exhaustion. She will lay outside with her balls and frisbees within paws reach and stare at the house for hours just waiting until the time comes where I give in to her love and throw the ball. There is nothing she loves more. Her focus is persistent and it doesn't change. Her entire life has been centered around her love for the game of fetch from puppy years on. She is made to move, run and love the game. Even as I write this, she sits waiting anxiously for the time to come. She never forgets her true love.

The other day I was throwing the ball for the 4th time that day and I started to think about it... she is dedicated and loyal and persistent to her one love.... It made me wonder: Has there ever been one thing that I have been completely persistent at? One thing that I have given my all to and never taken my eyes off of? One thing that I will sit there for hours, waiting for the time to be right, to do it or play it or give myself to it?

In a world that is ever changing: trading the old for new, swapping what's not cool for cool, or simply self-evolving for the next fad, I admire the persistence and focus of Scout. Her eyes are on the ball, no matter what.

I'm loyal to my family and those I love. I'm devoted to my faith. But sadly, I don't think I've had the same persistence to one hobby, craft, work or career. I want to find that same dedication. Obviously, Scout's a dog and I am not and there are many more variables at play in my life compared to a dog's, but the idea is there pushing me to find my focus, love, and passion for that one thing that takes my all. Nothing but my eyes on the ball (or frisbee).  

Photo cred: Michael Shaw

Whispers

There is a whisper in the air

It is subtle but harsh

Overbearing and without mercy

I try not to listen but it's loud

too loud

It speaks with stinging words 

You are different

You are alone

No one likes you

You are fat

Your wrinkles swallow your face

You aren't as young as you used to be

You aren't a good friend

or sister

or daughter

You aren't good at this or that

What is your purpose?

You aren't smart

or pretty

or brave

or wise

You disguise with fake confidence

You are too hard

 too soft

 too honest

 too much

You will never be what you hoped to be

You failed

No one cares

Really, no one cares

because you are not enough

It repeats and repeats 

like a low, base drum in my ear

I cry 

But before I can make sense of all the stinging 

another whisper drifts in

This one has a peaceful, sweet aroma

but it's harder for me to hear

There is an echoing kind of call 

I long to hear it

A melody that calms my spirit

It speaks with grace and love

but in the beginning it feels foreign

a language I cannot understand

 Then it slowly unravels its sweet sound

Stop listening to the pounding of the drum

It eats you alive

It sucks your life

My precious,

You are everything you were made to be

I repeat

You are everything you were made to be

Stop fretting

Stop doubting

You were made to be soft

and hard 

and honest

and too much

You were made to be misunderstood

and to stand alone sometimes

You were made to struggle 

and to be unsure

But never believe that you are not enough

One day you will see

You were made You on purpose

so listen carefully to my song

Do you hear my sweet melody?

Drown out any other whispers 

Trust me. Lean into me. 

Listen to the hums of the  light. 

You, alone, are enough.

Repeat after me,

You, alone, are enough.