tonight the trees shook hands with the sky, some agreement i am not astute enough to guess at,
but still i was witness to the way the light consumed me. sunset spit me out with the rain, and i washed up into the muddy shores of a revelation. of how everything changes, and everything stays the same.

in my inner world a frenzied pace sprints towards compassion and light, and somehow through all of this comes more peace. i don't understand it. i just feel it. there is so little that i know these days. my intellectual mind is all ears. everything is a matter of the heart.

and it keeps beating. the days keep slipping into place. the leaves blush in autumn's bliss. the birds are  beginning to slowly making their way south. my sunflowers are bowing to the ground, planting seeds with unspoken hopes of spring.

i keep dreaming. keep doing. keep being. keep believing.

everything is changing. and. everything is staying the same, it's the same life, the same truth, the same love that's real. and i am bending to it, planting thoughts in the same way the sunflowers sew seeds. there is so much left unsaid, but my heart beats and head breaks like a sead beneath the ground, just to be (in this moment) here with you.



namaste.

battles are being waged everywhere in the world, outside of wars holy or not. today, at work, the kids were battling for class bragging rights. juniors against seniors. and i encouraged trash talking in the name of vocabulary.

first, i showed them an inspirational clip from youtube:

then, I gave them a few sample sentences using their vocab words. the assignment: use all 15 of their words (prognostications, audacious) to dis on the Seniors before the junior vs. senior volleyball game tonight. but battles were already being fought--cars were tagged, lockers taped shut, trash was talked...(over the intercom, the winning group from my class)

and many battles were lost. the juniors and the volleyball game, for one. but otay, life will go on...

but there was more that was lost. my planner. my keys. which were essential in telling me that i needed to sub for our yoga studio owner's class tonight, and getting there on time.

i lost. 15 minutes late, and i'm pretty sure every student lost their patience, and it wasy my fault. and i'm feeling more horrible than i have felt in a long time because of this. my mind keeps replaying the what if, what if, what if's. what if j. had to drive from dry hollow--a half an hour, and i missed the class. what if she blamed the studio owner instead of me?

how much of our actions are measured by intention and motivation, and how much by the act  itself?

my intention wasn't to be late, my motivation is aligned with yoga, but my actions showed otherwise. i am deeply disappointed in myself.

or maybe it's that my intentions aren't pure because i have too much on my plate, so no one thing gets the best of my attention. but no, i know that i give my best to my students everyday. it's all the extras that maybe suffer. so then, am i creating some lower energy, some cog in my karmic wheel because of my lack of complete concentration in all i do?

augh! how can i make it up? in my yoga class tonight (not the one i was supposed to cover) i read mary oliver's wild geese. the line "you do not have to be good, you just have to let  yourself love what you love" comes to mind. is this true?

right now i'm more inclined to believe thoreau's take: "be not merely good, be good for something."

right now, i'm feeling pretty good for nothing. a little like scum beneath a little rascal's toes...

Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

* This is a poem by Mary Oliver, the one referenced in my last blog. It's fantastic to

read this time of year.

Or at least on the track. On track? That remains to be seen. You start with the circles you can control. You start by evaluating what you have the power to influence, and of course, this empowers you. Allows you to empower others. Ideally.

I'm writing this from Indianapolis. At a conference, acting as a fellow for the Center for Leadership and School Reform. It's a rebuttal to NCLB. Of sorts. They have asked me to tell my story. Sort of.... There are qualifications about how to do this.

So here's my sorted story.... (whether it's sordid is up for evaluation)

Six years ago, I went back to school to become a teacher. I wasn't really sure teaching was what I wanted to do; I only knew that I was here to help people. I only knew that apathy is one of the things that bothers me most in this world, and teaching was a small way that I could do something about it. 

I was told I should rethink going into teaching by educational theory professors.  That I may not make a good teacher. And maybe this was a self-fulfilling prophecy because at the time my self esteem was next to nothing.  But I've always perservered when met with road blocks.
And while I wasn't necessarily a success story in my education classes, I feel pretty confident that I have been successful in the classroom these last 5 years.

Then again, I guess that depends on the definition of success. Because ACT scores haven't sky-rocketed by my being at RHS. Nor have everyone of my AP students passed the exam with flying colors......

And here's where I start to worry, because these are the details of success deemed worthy.

Well, see---test scores are not as relevant to me (whether they should be or not). What I can say, is that if you look at attendance records for students, there are fewer absences from my classes. When someone has a problem---in my class, in other classes, with friends, family, of life in general, they're in my room to talk about it. Whether I help them or not isn't as important to them as just knowing that there's someone there who will listen to them. And care.

I'm not some guru who has all the answers, but I can tell my truth. In terms of teaching, it consists of two things:

1. Students will become involved in class if you are involved in their life. If you are involved in your life. If you passionately invest your time and energy into anything, and share this with students, they will become involved in school, your class, with you. It's all about relationships.
2. Your role as a teacher should be one that challenges students to evolve, to nurture creativity and curiosity, to engage students in learning skills they will need for their lives, to make it real to them.

Our roles are to build relationships---between students, the content, and the teacher. OR should be.

I could go on for pages, but most of it would probably be boring to anyone not in education...

Once upon a time this story began. But then again, fairy tales are stories about dreams that have come to fruition. So there isn't a once upon a time to this story. Not yet.

But there is a time. There is this moment. Right now. And right now I am listening to the Cary Brothers, riding on the waves of the song, riding on the waves of my mind. Some might call this dreaming. I don't mind. As long as I can ride. Away from here.

How very un-buddhist like of me. How very un-powerofnow. The thing is, thought, I don't want to be here now.  I want to Be. Just that--simply be. But here is not so simple now.

If I were feeling more powerful, I'd not be hiding, locked up in my room, like some fairy tale character. If I were feeling more powerful, I could do something more than send breath, send prayers to my roomate, his girlfriend (visiting for the weekend), and her little dog too. I'd go downstairs, sit on my couch and conversate, or attempt to change the situation that i've come to hate.

but i feel less than powerful outside of this space. outside of this room, even though the house is "mine."  it's more than un-nerving to feel like a prisoner in your own house. and i know that it's my perspective that needs to be changed, but i haven't managed to do that yet.

even now, i feel darkness seeping in under my door. a certain cynicsim permeating the air. so i can embrace the darkness, or fight it, or find the peace within. but if i leave this room, i find that i'm without it. even more so.

and all of that takes time i don't want to devote to the moment. i need to plan tomorrow's lesson. finish writing grad school application essays. flow throught asana. catch up to my ap classes assigned reading.

and intermittently i will escape from beingherenow, through the sweetness of my dreams.
i will find my ever after, happily---even if it is yet to come true.