something about this photo strikes me as I think of the start of a
new year.
a pathway.
...a bridge over water whose level varies from hour to hour throughout each day.
...a portion is flat requiring little attention while another section calls for a need of focus to keep from potential injury.
...well-built but under extreme conditions more than likely not indestructible.
at school, I find my eyes lighting up when I have opportunities to spend my time intentionally helping to teach social emotional learning (SEL). after a long fought battle, funding was found this year to purchase a curriculum which contains such approachable, insightful, and profound lessons to use with our students. one approach used is entitled "picture prompts".
the teacher projects an image (such as the one above) and asks the students who might like to share.
no directions. no questions.
simply, "would anyone like to share?"
I love this activity.
it opens up the space for anyone to feel, see, think, observe whatever he or she does in that moment.
all answers are correct.
all.
answers.
are.
correct.
how often in life when asked a question, whether outright in a conversation or within an experience which needs to be sorted out, do we feel like our answer is 100% correct?
that we need not prepare for the "test" or work to anticipate the response of the other?
as I look up from my screen and stare into the distance to ponder this question for myself, I can think of very few moments. in fact, maybe collectively only in one true moment...
a space designated as safe by the people in its midst.
a space decided to be one filled with acceptance and unconditional love.
this picture prompt activity is set up to allow students to have at least one space like that during their day. a space where he or she can be listened to and heard, hopefully even appreciated for their unique perspective or personal insight.
in my mind the more we experience these moments where we are celebrated for who we are and what we experience, whether the others in the space agree with our views or not, the more confident we become in our own value and significance.
the more we are able to breathe into who we are and how we were made.
I do not want to erase 2020. my life was also deeply enriched during this past year in the midst of such loneliness, hurt, sadness, frustration and loss.
that being said, I do hope this year is better than our last one.
the awful has been immense.
may we continue to support one another by listening and being as present as possible.
the smells, the lights, the cozy, the warm, sippable beverages, the harry connick, jr. crooning that I really could listen to all year long but for some reason I often forget about until december arrives...
I put up my tree over thanksgiving weekend, breaking my rule I have held fervently to from my childhood of "only after december 2nd", my brother's birthday. we were always mindful to celebrate him and then move forward to Christmas. I like traditions immensely and I am deeply fond of him, but since we no longer share a house, I confess I often fudge this previous guideline.
even though I am an independent personality who often luxuriates within and longs for being on my own, my ultimate desire is to be alongside and with others. not a large number of people all at once, but with one, two, or small groups, yes.
my creativity, my ingenuity, my humour, my enjoyment, my eyes...all come alive in the midst of my people.
there is something about this time of year that places priority on being in community with people who you value and genuinely enjoy living life alongside.
this year is different for many of us...what an "up is down and down is up" sort of year it continues to be. these holidays have me on my own in my cozy apartment thinking of those I love who are all in different parts of the world. thankfully we are all well and are doing our best to stay connected in virtual ways.
love is a gift. love is a choice.
I don't know about you, but sometimes I get a bit greedy.
I want to be "with" more than is feasible for our necessary schedules and life happenings.
at these moments, reminders of what I believe about love thankfully come to the surface of my heart which feels quite dramatically like it is struggling to keep its proverbial head above water some days.
love is a gift.
the best gifts are given as surprises from one to the other in a way that demonstrates the knowledge we have of said loved one.
we wrap the present thinking things like...
"I cannot WAIT for this person to open this!"
and when that happens, when the person opens that t-shirt or that personalised token...oh my goodness! the gift is in the giving for me so often. the look on the receiver's face! sigh...it makes me smile thinking of it at this very moment.
the best gifts are given as surprises...
we do not expect them.
we are often caught off guard by them.
they brighten our eyes and fill our hearts with joy.
love of one another is an ongoing gift.
it is not a package wrapped up.
it is not about a certain day of the year.
it is about presence.
and it may be the sweetest gift of all to experience someone present with you and you with them.
how blessed I have been throughout my life to have such sweet depth of connection with others who I love deeply and who love me in return. so many moments in community which create stories to tell.
I think the absence of those one loves quite simply and deeply hurts. (full stop)
this year continues to plod along (and zip by at the same moment) with what seems to be unending feelings of loss.
a season of our lives with an unyielding strength that is confounding, immense, and excessive.
je n'aime pas du tout. (I don't like it at all.)
within this odd season, many blessings have emerged, of course, as beauty always surfaces even in the midst of ashes. I would imagine you can name many in your own life as I can in mine.
overall, the one thing which remains is love.
toujours. (always.)
so may we strive to find and to foster the love in our lives in any and all the ways we can do in this season being grateful for every moment which we are given...
humans beings are wildly creative creatures. how amazing are the ways we are finding to keep being present with one another!
I think human connection is a deeply determined concept.
we all instinctively know its necessity and we will continue create it even in this chaos.
my gifting, the thing I do which invigorates my spirit is “with”.
I show up.
I make space.
I welcome in.
sometimes, certainly, I isolate for a time due to fear or frustration or loss which can often be for my betterment for self-care, but where I am my best is "with",
alongside.
“we don’t know exactly why or exactly what you have done (or do currently), but we know this place feels better with you with us.”
I love hearing this statement at work. when I hear it, I know I am being who I am made to be.
now, obviously, some tangibles must be known from my employers and from myself about the “whats” of my job, but the base, the foundation, the rooting of the space I am within, the space I create intentionally, the space that I fiercely protect…
the essence…
lies in the
with.
ok, some *definitions of these prepositions which are objects of my affection...
with: in the company of; accompanied by
alongside: close to the side of; together and in cooperation with; in coexistence with
preposition: a word expressing a relation to another word (simplified kb definition.)
*definition: meant to be a base not a box (kb definition for myself)
in my english grammar lessons I have always been taught that is is improper to end a sentence with a preposition. after doing a bit of research, I have learned that this comes from the structure of the latin language. others argue, , apparently even famed orator and writer winston churchill, that not allowing prepositions to end sentences sounds quite awkward.
in spoken english, I would absolutely agree with him.
speaking in such a way can potentially cause one to sound quite haughty and pretentious thus creating more of a gap between those with whom we relate rather than creating a connecting point.
as I see more of a view into this grammatical window and expanded context, for the sake of my current metaphor, I like the option of the preposition being placed either before or after the noun with which it is associated.
with and alongside do not hold boundaries which indicate before or after necessarily, in my mind.
they exist in the midst, in the middle of, in coexistence.
in the words of a favourite person of mine, this may be a digression, but one that I found interesting.
as many of you know, my fascination for words is endless, and going back to the source of definition helps me to root and reorient myself.
why do these waves of melancholy wash over, in particular, for me personally, these days?
and today, as I was walking around my neighbourhood, listening to a podcast from one of my favourite wise, british teachers, I found a particular source of this sadness and lament.
I miss the
"with".
deeply.
my instincts, senses, insights work better
with presence,
with being there,
with showing up,
with coexisting,
with accompanying,
with attending,
with being a companion,
with partnering.
I have strategically shaped my work life to center around this space of joy for me, and with the virus, the confinement, the fears, the summer season, etc. I feel the lack acutely.
the difference in this season of our lives is that we are not sure when “the with” will return and when it does, how it will look.
new strategies and tactics abound as experts and educators scramble and study ways to maintain our connections from safe distances.
I watch webinars and read new articles every day which have excellent recommendations for new tools and tricks, and I will use many of them when school resumes, I am sure. (I am so thankful that others have passion for sorting out these new tricks of the trade. I will be honest and say, I do not enjoy needing to create so much new.)
I suppose, for me, I have just needed to acknowledge where the root of the lament lies.
I need to know for me before I can engage in helping others think through and identify where their loss and sadness sits.
in order for my “with” whether virtual or physical, to be authentic, I have to be actively present with myself in honest conversation.
I hope the week is ok for all of you.
we are certainly all in the midst of a daily quest to take care of ourselves and our loved ones as we navigate this still surreal season of our lives.
may you have peace today in ways that utterly surprise and delight you.
-kb.
(pictured below: one of my favourite humans to be with... my niece, izzy.)
they show triumph, a badge of honour, explaining a place of hurt and resilience.
these marks make us unique and particular as they only belong to us individually.
in my opinion, though they often indicate a past pain,
ultimately,
they beautify.
they add depth and texture.
recently I have been thinking about these life impressions we carry with us.
we strive so much to be individuals...to stand out.
sometimes we add ink to our skin to intentionally scar ourselves so we will remember a moment, a person, an experience, a lesson learned.
and then we often hide our personal scars, our natural tattoos, which have been created in a more organic fashion throughout our lives.
c'est interresant. (it is interesting.)
I think often we show the ones we want only.
but the scars are there whether we want them to be or not, and we must face them at some point. someone else will see them and wonder, and if we choose not to share the stories, hurts, victories, experiences, we will hinder sweet opportunities to increase connection and closeness.
I feel like right now in our world we, quite acutely, are being reminded that we must have connection to be healthy and to live life to the full.
some scars are visible and obvious. some exist inside and are able to be hidden for a time.
I like them.
on others.
I am fascinated and intrigued to hear the story attached to this marking that is clearly unique to the person as I always feel that within this person's narration, I will see a window into who they are and what they have overcome whether the tale that is told is of a childhood fall from a bicycle or a torn tendon while on a skiing trip or a car accident which found them in a shocking situation. these stories of others never disappoint, in my experience.
whether the story is dramatic or silly, learning about the other connects and delights me.
I even like these external markings on me most of the time.
what a great conversation starter!
an opportunity to be asked about why that scratch is on my foot, for example,
indicates to me an interest and an engagement from another person, a telltale sign that someone is taking the time to learn about me.
but
maybe
only in theory?
maybe I am particular about which stories I want to tell...
only liking to talk about these physical alterations to my original unblemished skin
and I do not necessarily want to speak quickly and openly about all of my distinctions which others might observe...?
those inside markings, the ones which can be more subtle and secret...
these more discreet scars often require a deeper level of honesty and vulnerability to tell their stories. revealing the origin of fears, pains, worries...
well, the difficulty level rises often in that space.
in university, I studied sports medicine. we spent a fair amount of time learning about anatomy, the human body, injuries, wound care, etc. of course, we were studying how to care for these external, on the skin, types of injuries, but I think the same sort of approach can apply for our more internal scrapes and bruises.
after an injury, scar tissue buildup makes the next movement of those surrounding muscles more difficult. it is our body's way of protecting us. we have been hurt and so the body rushes to rebuild and take care of us, instinctively.
recovery and healing require time.
bandages? ice?
patience.
attention.
care.
a delicate attending to.
as we ease back into activity. we must exercise and break up this scar tissue in order to regain mobility, flexibility, and even the skill of relaxation, as the muscles now naturally tense in a sort of defensive stance. the tissue that has formed is a sort of a wall, a barrier which has been formed to prevent further hurt which was necessary and beneficial while we were healing.
but after some time, we need to begin to move and utilize these muscles once more.
if we want to possess mobility again...
use is key.
in speaking of our internal hurts and scars, we must also choose to try once more to exercise our skills of storytelling, sharing, and noticing...
giving of ourselves once more, bit by bit and working to accept others in the light of our newfound self-knowledge of our common hurts and challenges.
I think we need to move toward our own personal acceptance of the presence of these scars.
nothing can be done to change them.
if we are to move forward to regain the ability to connect, they must be embraced and accepted, interwoven into the fabric of our personal stories.
they are there, present within us.
for the better...
and I do choose to believe we are better for having struggled and moved forward through these hurts.
this perspective of betterment does not
at all
indicate an attitude of
dismissal of any of the following:
true difficulty,
a desire that circumstances or situations could have been different or
a denial of the presence of real affliction,
but
declares
a decision to choose hope in their midst.
and even when you learn how to navigate old scar tissue, forming new strength, new wounds will certainly occur.
we have to continue to learn how to break up that resistance to connect once more.
again and again.
there will always be scars...
we will most likely always wonder if others will flinch or move away when they see ours.
here we find one more thing we all have in common as humans,
scars.
ALL of us have them.
what if we choose to see them as beautiful?
in others
AND in ourselves.
can we accept and celebrate our markings and be willing to work and heal together?
to love and to move through and forward?
to see these impressions as uniting forces rather than elements of our stories that separate us or cause us to build walls due to our worry that others will not understand or want to see who we are?
to fight through the fear and worry?
of course, we do not need to reveal all of ourselves to every person we encounter.
this protective tissue is healthy and important. our body instinctually protects us for a reason.
levels of connection appropriately adapt and adjust depending on situation and context.
I speak here, in particular, about the spaces and places with people with whom we desire to shrink the gap of closeness.
we can choose to listen,
to love,
to connect,
and to create safe spaces with people and for ourselves.
I am thinking more and more that THIS is the work of relationships,
to keep showing up for one another,
committed and willingly wanting to fight through the scar tissue buildup for the
awe-inducing benefits of connection and joy.
for me, I think this sort of work is some of the most
valuable,
enriching, and
life-giving work any of us can choose to do.
this artist, james bay, has long been a favourite of mine with his soulful voice and poetic lyrics. as I wrote, this song came into my mind.
this strategy pops into my mind so often as I ponder and wonder about life...
I started a separate blog for my students during this time of confinement/quarantine/stay at home. since my "office" is now in virtual space, this was an idea I had to try to stay connected with them through story and perspective. so, now as I write, I think...
is this a topic for my freeform thought like I do on this page or is this something I write more tailored toward a teenage audience.
you know what? it is the same. :)
the word usage, the capitalization, the added advice or mentor-like language may be a bit different, but the content is the same.
we are all teenagers on the inside, and especially in the midst of navigating life questions.
so, I'll overlap these two sites a bit today and share a story of a monumental moment in the mountains when I was about sixteen.
when I was a kid, I was pretty much scared of everything. everything that was unfamiliar, that is.
I liked safety, predictability and comfort. I am the youngest child and much of the time my family provided this protected space for me for which I am deeply grateful. I have consistently always felt taken care of and nurtured. as I became a teenager, life sort of felt like it hit me in the face some days. what once was controllable and generally free from difficulty was now tremendously confusing. friendships were fun one day and frustrating the next. suddenly I felt awkward in social situations and didn’t know what to say around people.
now being many years post-teenager, I know that these experiences are common to pretty much all adolescents.
but do you remember being a teenager? oh my goodness.
I thought I was
the.
only.
one.
feeling.
every.
feeling.
I.
had.
the first proper adventure I ever took was to travel to camp in north carolina.
I ventured away from home for the first time from arkansas with a few friends to a week long summer camp. this camp held within its confines the ability to mountain bike, hike, zip line, ride horses, etc.
every cabin went through what they called the “ropes course” together.
you might be familiar with this type of activity where you start on the ground attached to a pulley and rope system and gradually ascend higher and higher into the treetops walking across trees, on wires.
when it came time for my group to put on our harnesses and start this grand adventure, I quickly voiced my decision to “opt out” and volunteered to document the time for my fellow campers by taking pictures safely from the ground.
I had no interest in conquering that particular fear. eventually my friends convinced me to join them, and I adorned my helmet and harness begrudgingly.
this story really begins to get good about 15 minutes into my journey through this course when I reached the end and was given the choice of how to descend from this perch about 5 stories (50 feet or so) in the air.
I chose to repel down and after MULTIPLE countdowns of “3-2-1”,
I cautiously
with much trepidation,
scooted off the platform.
being cheered on from above and below, I worked my way down the rope inch by inch.
around the 40 foot mark,
something
felt
wrong.
a piece of my very curly hair had somehow gotten wrapped around the metal figure 8 just above my head.
I was stuck. consultation began between the person on the perch above my head (brad) and person "on belay" below me (scott). I was too far down to pull back up and way too high to be reached from the ground.
it was decided that they would reach me from above. brad would need to descend and help release the tension on the figure 8 to allow me to return to earth.
all involved remained calm, myself included, during this somewhat dramatic rescue.
we both arrived safely on the ground and my hair was easily detangled.
this adventure, this challenge I faced and completed victoriously literally altered my perspective. my dad will still say that I returned from that trip changed.
I learned that within risk reward can be found.
I began to learn to process what I know in the midst of all that I do not know.
facts and feelings are best when they work together, holding hands, as partners.
a few feelings swirling within me on that ropes course:
fear, nervousness, worry, exhilaration, confusion, helplessness, embarrassment, support...
fact: the climbing rope to which I was attached could hold the weight of a car.
fact: the wires in the trees are the same used to catch jets on aircraft carriers.
fact: the people working the course were trained in rescue procedures for just such an occurrence.
fact: I was not alone.
the past few weeks of confinement have actually been quite lovely and less worrisome for me, so I am not entirely sure why this story has been in my mind.
perhaps it is to do with thinking of all the milestones being missed by those ending the school year without being able to properly celebrate their accomplishments.
challenges seem to be around every corner in new ways in this season, seeming to be more acute when they arise, whether small or large. our senses seem to be a bit more on alert and sensitive.
the bottom line:
if it feels challenging to you, then
it is a challenge,
full stop.
we are all sixteen (or sometimes 6 or 13) on the inside.
as adults, we just learn to fake it a bit better.
looking for the facts
in the midst of
the feelings, not choosing one or the other, but naming and celebrating them both,
seems to be a tactic that helps me a bit as I sort out how to live in the healthiest way.
the day after the hair-raising experience, I eagerly (in the midst of my still present fear) climbed this tower and repelled over and over as I had discovered I was stronger than I had realized.
in my mind, if this timid teenager can learn to step off the ledge and end up enjoying moments like this one above, it is possible for any of us to meet challenges and live through them with facts and feelings holding hands.
it helps me to think of it as a season and not as a new "normal". nothing about what we are currently are experiencing is normal.
I am under no illusion that when we are released from our confinement that all things will be as they once were prior to COVID-19.
at the same moment, I also choose to keep hope alive that we will be able to return to hugging our friends, exchanging physical affection with those we love, and once again make friends with people who were at one time strangers to us.
we were created to connect.
this fact has not changed nor will it ever do so.
I am so deeply encouraged by how we are finding hope in the midst of such tragedy, instinctively choosing to create joyful endeavours to share with one another.
perfect example: old school hip hop might not be everyone's cup of tea, but I will tell you that dj nice's instagram live stream spin every day is such a shot of joy for me. a big thanks to my brother chad for his lessons in soul and hip hop early in my life which will forever make me dance and smile.
I see people posting amazing videos of uplifting stories and finding ways to raise money for charities to take care of one another. and thank you, john krasinski for some good news.
this week during my la classe de français, when talking about what sort of music we liked, I described one of my favourite songwriters as soulful. jean-paul explained that the closest word in french to soulful is "spirituel".
this translation made an impression on me.
one author I enjoy likes to say...
"everything is spiritual."
I agree with him. absolutely.
yes. music, art, dance, nature, theatre, writing, conversation, service...all of these endeavours hold spirituality, require creativity, and demonstrate people sharing pieces of their (our) souls.
those of us who create, otherwise known as ALL human beings, put our hearts and souls into fashioning our respective pièces de résistance which are so uniquely our own. when we engage and invest ourselves with something or someone, we share our essence, our spirits.
we are certainly being reminded right now that the human spirit is strong.
c'est spirituel. (it is spiritual.)
this weekend was one that is considered sacred to many. even my friends who do not necessarily celebrate Easter or Passover, spent time with friends and family sharing a meal and communing, whether in person or in a virtual way. it is usually a time for gathering and hope.
in the service I like to attend, we have a time of "passing the peace" with the people sitting near to each other. we shake hands with those we do not know and exchange hugs or kisses with those we love.
we say "peace be with you." to one another.
it is a lovely time of connection that I confess, growing up, I dreaded. why would I make a physical connection of any kind with that stranger sitting next to me?
I have long since left this disdain behind and I thought of this lovely gesture of quick human touch and wishing of calm in the midst of whatever personal storms might be present especially this weekend, as we are now told it is not best to be near one another.
I am adhering to this strong suggestion certainly as I see its benefit in prevention, of course.
I suppose I needed to just acknowledge this feeling of loss.
I believe we need to keep connecting no matter what challenges we are facing.
a few things I am giving a go...
write letters to your favourite people.
read books you normally don't take the time to take off the shelves.
create playlists for friends with songs they might like.
work on that language you might have always wanted to learn.
make short video messages to send to your friends. (this was more fun than I expected it to be. and it usually took a good deal of time because I had to do multiple takes due to the incessant laughing at myself.)
I am remembering that I can always choose hope whether I am sitting next to someone or am more physically distant which is easier some days than others.
c'est spirituel.
so perhaps even the melancholy days hold lessons and goodness within...much like a rainy day brings growth when working in conjunction with sun-drenched days.
I often can appreciate light and levity more in reflection of the clouds.
life happens in seasons whether we are surprised by them or see them arriving in a timely fashion.
every meeting or interaction can be seen as spiritual, soulful, and significant.
on some days, we might need to choose to look a bit deeper for that meaning right now.
(p.s. it is possible this post was just for me to read back to myself. haha.)
may we keep choosing hope and passing peace to one another,
as we are all in this together. :)
the one activity I have been faithful to practice in my life thus far has been this one...writing. I suppose that is why I keep this channel open after all of these years.
I find it soothing, a sort of release from the intake of information that builds up in my heart, head, and spirit within any given day.
my spirit is a sort of sponge, both sensitive and strong.
my surroundings make an impression on who I am, how I respond, how I love, how I speak, what I think, how I act...
this fact is one which shapes my definition of
home
family
love
faith
work
hope.
recently I have realized (or remembered or been reminded) that I can find hope in nearly any circumstance. this photo from a recent return flight made me think of that hopeful outlook I have fostered over the years.
life is big.
creation is vast.
"how in the world are we flying through the air right now in a giant heavy machine?"
that big picture view helps so often when in a state of all-consuming struggle, when it feels like the current state of being will be the only option I will ever have. so I absolutely need that perspective.
and sometimes...
it is important for me
to be present.
to be just be where I am, in that current moment,
keeping that hope close enough to pull in to avoid going to an extreme mental space,
but also
I am finding it more and more important
to feel
and to allow for the experience to be...
well...
experienced.
so as to gain practical contact with the situation or the person and the feelings in the midst.
when I have an encounter, often unexpected, that impression which is left can help shape new lessons, insight, and wisdom. it may not feel familiar or always comfortable, but I always learn.
and I like it.
ooooohhhh, do I like to learn! and a lived, shared experience is my absolute favourite.
my current daily surroundings find me interacting with people who range in age from 10 years to nearly retirement who come from a multitude of cultures and backgrounds, who speak a multitude of languages.
and I love it.
the challenges are endless. the possibilities to support are immense. the potential to create team abounds. the opportunities for my personal growth seem to multiply daily.
in the midst of each day, I see the necessity for the marriage of
my choice to hope
and my challenging quest to be "in the moment".
I have this drawing over my computer in my office.
I have it on the wall at my house.
I think, feel, and know
that if I could make time to do this each day, to be with,
as I sit and speak with people,
as I join in a spontaneous game of badminton,
as I make my morning coffee and chat with my colleagues,
and even literally, from time to time, find a spot to put my feet up a wall alongside another person
I could call that day
a success.
so so so many things exist beyond my comprehension or explanation,
whether in the grand scheme of life
or in the magic of a shared moment.
and I must say that
I like these two important entities holding hands.
so I will keep trying to show up and will choose to keep hope alive.
