The Art of Being Human

They say that gratitude is the highest form of prayer. I think enjoying your life is a form of gratitude. I want to enjoy my life and treasure its moments even when it’s hard.  The easiest way for me to be able to do that is to keep my life free of negativity.  Negativity is  a complete soul suck. Nothing good ever comes of it. A few years ago I went on a 90Day No Negativity Challenge.   I simply needed a break from all the negativity that seemed to be swirling around me.  Eventually I was nudged into what Thomas Merton calls the wilderness of my own interior journey.  If we are lucky we take that journey several times in our life time.  The challenge was a defining time in my life and I’m still experiencing its impact. On the surface not very much has changed. I still teach school, drive an old truck with music cranked up too loud and sing better than I fiddle.   I paddle when there’s water and time and try to keep the house from falling down around my ears.  I still think I’m g

I was sitting in traffic next to a beautifully restored caddy. I did what any woman with sense would do. No, I did not ask him if he had any Grey Poupon. I yelled, "I LOVE your car!" His face lit up. "I love YOU!" The light changed and we went on through our days spreading sunshine and sprinking the glitter of love because when all is said and done what else is there. It's either fear or love. What will you create in your life?

    I love a good storm. Lightening and thunder and leaves flying everywhere! It does a soul good to have the air cleared.  That sums up this past spring after an upside down tornado hit my neighborhood. Trees, sheds, and fences came crashing down. It was no big deal except for the fact that it unearthed more than just trees. It laid my soul bare.   In the middle of dealing with the aftermath of the storm I was hit with a string of hold-on-to-your-hat-things-are-going-to-get-messy events. I held on to my hat. I reached out to my friends, celebrated my successes when they came, laughed at myself and continued to march. It was all part of the wilderness experience of being human. Now, here I am a few months later changed in ways I don’t completely understand yet.  The question I find myself asking is this, who would I be if I didn’t think I knew who I was?  Who am I beyond the roles that I have claimed as my own rather they’re true or not?  The only way I know to find those an

I wasn't entirely surprised when my fourth graders nutted up on me.  It was that time of year. Spring Break was a memory and summer vacation was a dream. My students forgot how to do everything, line up, put their name on their papers, what a verb was, and don't even get me started on fractions. My dearest, sweetest students became surly and defiant. And talking back was apparently a new indoor sport. I didn't help. I did everything wrong. I was a perfect example of what not to do. I chastised, reprimanded, called parents and passed out stickers and candy like a demented Mr. Candy Man.  Then I nutted up with them. Room 17 was not a fun place to be. I broke my hard and fast rule about what to do when things go south. Don't do the same thing harder, do something new. In the middle of a what-the-hell-am-I-going-to-do moment I remembered a story about the king and queen of heaven. It teased the edges of my consciousness and although I didn't think it had anything

 I’m a big believer in jumping in where angels fear to tread.  Right a wrong, take stand, do something!  A few months ago I was ready to take a stand about a situation I saw unfolding.  I did what I always do, prayed and sat in silence listening for a deeper wisdom to pierce my blindness. The problem was that when my inner guidance came it was not what I expected.   Day after day, it came loud and strong, ‘stand down, do nothing.’ What the hell?  The not so distant past has taught me the value of trusting my inner knowing even when it goes against my nature as it often seems to do.  Heartbreak and hard times teach their lessons well. I reluctantly did nothing. I made a deliberate choice every day to trust the unfolding of what was yet to be.  That’s faith for you.  I don’t always like it or do it well.  I wish I did, but I am who I am.   Did I mention that I did nothing reluctantly? I called my friend Florie to get a second opinion. And by get a second opinion I mean I wante

  The last time I paddled the Tellico River in Tennessee it was cold and rainy. The river level kept rising until it was right at my ceiling. The last drop is an easy one, but just to make sure I had the right line I pulled into an eddy to regroup. That's a novel idea these day, taking time to regroup. For as long as I can remember I've always known when it was time to eddy out. I've known when to stop and stand still, to listen for the silence where my inner wisdom is found.  Before I started paddling I called it going to ground.  I've learned the hard way that pushing forward just for the sake of it can result in chaos. It leads to labeling people as right and wrong, quickly followed by defending your position at all costs.  Taking time out gives you space to take another look at your intentions and refocus your efforts.  Do I know where I want to go?  Will what I'm doing get me there?  Is this the line I want to run? The only way to know that is to