The End


I’m going to roll the last two essays of Dear Teachers into one reflection and close this first year’s journey off. It’s the end. Or, an end.

In Week 39, I wrote of the importance in seeing those tiny good things in life: life’s sweetnesses. Ends make them stand out more.

There has been a ton of vitriol on social media this week. Perhaps not new, but the education community has been sucked into this phenomenon as well. Earnest people have been burned. Stances have been challenged. Flames have been fanned. You know the whole routine. Between these behaviors and my own personal struggles, I’ve been in an odd place wondering about what we (I) are doing. Then, I had a short, but surprisingly deep conversation with a clerk at a store. It really moved me. I found myself genuinely thanking him and wishing him well as we finished our business. I honestly felt a tiny moment of sweetness there that captured that wholeness and togetherness of which I’ve spoken of throughout this book.

Week 40, the last essay: “Together, Face the Sky and Reach High”. Marlene captured the backside of a field of sunflowers under a majestically cloud-dotted sky. The sun is shining but the sky reminds us that storms can (and will) come both before and after. The sunflowers stand together and orient themselves together toward the light.

Tiny sweetnesses pollinate us. Photo by Marlene Oswald
We need to do that, too. I’m more convinced of that than ever.

As I re-read this essay today, remembering the time on the playground that I wrote of, I’m struck by the similar feelings I recall from that experience and the one I just had at the store. Inspiration does truly come anywhere and everywhere.

I bet your school year had some great sweetnesses. I bet it had times you want to turn your back on like the sunflowers. I hope this book helped you capture those things and comfortably sit with it all and that the experience that ends with this school year helps you move forward into new beginnings in the days, months and years ahead. I hope Marlene’s and my book, our book now if you’ve written in it, has helped you see the huge web of people you’re in- the huge flowerbed we’re all in- together. And, I hope, you see yourself and so many others, as the dear teachers you all are.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this book and any recommendations you might have! Comment below or you can reach out to me at: dearteachers2017@gmail.com. Thank you, once again.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Heart Within

Image
I just finished writing a big essay on my main blog, called Spring and the Death of Denial . It was in response to a fantastic conversation on a philosophical radio program called On Being. Now, I’m hopping back into Dear Teachers , and am struck by how this week’s essay, the last of the April focus on what’s really there, connects to that. When we don’t want people to see who and what we really are, we throw up defenses. When we don’t trust the people that surround us, we again build barriers. Within those walls, we are one thing. Outside of those walls, we are something else. To grow, we first have to admit the walls exist within all of us. They come from our families and traditions. From our own pasts. From our own needs. From our own fears. In this week’s essay, the image from Marlene that I chose was a close-up of a lily in full bloom. The center of that flower is bright yellow, while the outer edges are a deep red, trimmed in that same golden hue. We don’t get t...
Read more

Life's Sweetness When We Look

Image
I slid 2 poems into Dear Teachers. Week 22 is the first. (Week 32 is the second, if you’re keeping track.) Overall, my writing style has become more poem-like as I’ve grown older. Shorter and more lean. However, I felt the need for lines here. Why? Marlene’s image is very linear. The vertical grass texture is amazing and I found myself relaxing with the rhythm of it. To me, it almost hums in quiet anticipation. While you can’t see its legs, you feel this deer is standing completely still and its legs are as straight up and down as its neck and ears are. Lines. Timelines. Lines start. Lines stop. This deer has stopped. Let’s stop. I said before that February’s thoughts would touch on before and after the Now of January. When we stop, we can experience both the moment and what’s hidden. What’s hidden can be what has happened in the past- what’s gotten us here until today. Which leads to the heart of this poem. It shares a subject with a piece that’s way at the ...
Read more

The Heart of Living

Image
Please take a minute (or two, or three) to simply stare at the point on the horizon in this picture where the trail disappears. Find a relaxation music channel & hit play. Breathe in and out, looking at that path- going, going into...somewhere. Hakim Sanai was a Persian poet. I learned of him as I was seeking quotes to connect with this image. He influenced another, more popular, spiritual mystic poet, Rumi . His words I quoted in Dear Teachers this week are almost 1000 years old: “When the path ignites the soul, there’s no remaining in place. The foot touches ground, but not for long.” The Persian mystics were also dervishes. I recall the phrase, “whirling dervishes”. They danced in joyous exultation as part of their faith; their feet literally touched the ground but for moments. To me, this quote’s message is that if we’re engaged in life, we’re going to always be transitioning. Living is not stagnant. I may be in the foreground of that photo, but I am crawl...
Read more