To Do and To Be

When my second baby was born and I chose to step back from many of my professional pursuits, I struggled with feeling like I hadn’t accomplished anything by the end of a day. Sure, I’d been busy changing diapers, doing laundry, and making food, but I’d wake up the next morning to a dirty diaper, a hamper full of laundry, and a house full of hungry people.

As I’ve shared previously, the need for accomplishment was part of my motivation for writing. When I opened my work in progress each morning, the 500 words from the previous day were still intact.

I was recently reminded of the “having, doing, being” model, though I haven’t been able to confirm the original source. I am a task-oriented, list-loving person, so I am most comfortable in the realm of doing, but I’ve been wondering what would happen if I listed who/how I plan to BE each day rather than what I plan to DO (Who am I kidding? I would have both lists!). At the end of the day, rather than measuring success solely by how many things I accomplished, I could also assess whether I showed up in the way I intended.

 My To Be list might look like this:

·      I am trustworthy.

·      I am open to new possibilities.

·      I am a generous wife.

·      I am a joyful parent.

·      I am courageous.

How do you want to be? Do you list it out?

Choosing to Trust Teachers

Throwback to the first day of preschool

I recently had one of those horrible parenting moments when the right thing to do was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. After a bad day at school, I wanted to keep my son home with me to bake cookies and watch a movie and generally smother him in the safety and love of our home. 

Instead, I listened to all that he had to say about the day and then told him what he didn’t want to hear. He needed to go back.

In the telling of his story, he told me that he’d talked to his teacher about his problem, and I affirmed his decision to bring an adult into the conversation. Her response was that by the next day, the problem would resolve itself. 

I was a teacher for fourteen years before I sat on the parent side of the school equation. I had to draw from that well as I resisted the temptation to blame the teacher for letting my son be hurt or call the office and complain that she didn’t handle the matter with a swift, dramatic response.

I told my son that we were going to choose to trust his teacher. 

She’s spent many days with this group of students (she’s looped) and has watched the interplay of all their personalities. She’s seen them resolve conflict and stepped in when necessary. I had no reason not to trust her. And I have no reason not to trust in the resilience of my son. I’ve raised him, after all. 

I know that trust is earned and can be broken, and I know that some teachers have mishandled or ignored difficult situations, but I also know that mostteachers mostof the time are as protective of their students as their parents are. And they have a personal interest in their students getting along.

It’s hard to send our children into the world. I’m so grateful for the teachers who help us along the way.

Revising our Language

I recently read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, Big Magic. It was the right book at just the right time. One of the things I appreciated her saying is that you don’t write to help other people. That may be a by-product of our writing, but if it’s the driving force, our writing will be inauthentic and we’ll find ourselves burnt out. 

I wrote a book of teacher’s prayers for myself. They are the prayers I needed when I was teaching, the ones I need for the teachers I worked with as an instructional coach, and the words I prayed on behalf of my teacher education students. Writing those prayers healed old wounds, acknowledged past successes, and honored the people who guided me along my journey. 

I’ve heard it said, though I’m not sure of the original source, that drafting is for you (the writer), but revisions are for them (the reader). This also rings true. 

It’s a tough combination.

Drafting is energizing and healing; it is nourishment for my soul.  Revisions are tedious and draining; they are a gift for someone else.

I think about the other areas in our lives when have to balance the life-giving things that fuel our passions and the things that require sacrifice in the best sort of way. Ever cared for a young child or elderly adult? Working out or giving up an unhealthy habit? 

How much could we change our perspectives if we changed our language? Instead of “I have to finish those revisions” (the language of obligation). I could try, “I get to finish those revisions” (the language of choice). Or even, “I’m going to finish those revisions!” (the language of commitment)

Think of something in your life that is taking time and draining your energy. Can you look at it as a gift for someone, maybe even yourself? Can you adjust your language and in turn your attitude?

What We Need in Seasons of Change

I don’t like change. Is there anyone out there who does?

I know all the sayings. If you’re not growing, you’re dying. The only constant is change. Out with the old, in with the new.

I still don’t like it.

My husband is drawn to change. Or maybe change is drawn to him. He is talented, hard-working, and kind which seems to be the key combination to always having new opportunities, and he says yes often enough to keep us on our toes.

Did I mention I don’t like it? The thing is, every big transition we’ve undertaken has been for the better. I’ve never looked back at a season in our lives and wished we’d stayed. 

In the classroom, transitioning well is the mark of an exceptional teacher. Students need support when you cut off their engagement from one activity and shift their attention to the next. It’s not so different for us as adults. 

Here are the things I’ve learned my family needs during transitions.

1.   We need our routines. In the same way that transitioning smoothly from one literacy station to another depends on how well-established your routines are, our ability to transition smoothly as a family depends on our home routines. Even in the midst of transition, I need my quiet time in the morning. We need to eat dinner at home together as often as possible. We need to read two books and share the best and worst of our days every night.

2.    We need sleep. Similar to routines, this is essential to sanity. Without enough sleep, I turn to caffeine, which increases anxiety, exactly what I don’t need more of during a transition! Then I go for sugar which leads to the inevitable crash and before you know it, I’m crying for reasons I cannot explain.

3.    We need to talk. All. The. Time. We need almost constant communication about schedules, expectations, feelings, and questions. Our routine is to check in on our calendar and budget once a week. During a transition, we need to double or triple that. If I can share my worries a little bit at a time, I tend to keep perspective. If not, all of the miniscule concerns build up into a snowball of destruction. If it gets to that point, no one is safe. 

Transition is stressful, but there is truth in all of those old sayings. Rather than duck and cover (my default setting), we can be proactive in creating a safe place for each other in the midst of the challenge.

Invite the Right Voices

Most of us can relate to the fact that no matter how much positive feedback we hear, we fixate on moments that are less affirming. I had one of these moments last week. I was in a funk and decided to do something brave to give myself the jolt of adrenaline I needed to get back to work. 

My husband recently told me about the #proximityprinciple from @kencoleman. With that strategy in mind, I emailed a woman who I met through a writing retreat and asked if she’d be willing to speak to me on the phone or whether I could shadow/assist her as she plans her next retreat. I even offered to clean toilets! 

She said no, because it would be impossible to convey what she’s learned over twenty years. 

And she called me Sharon.

I shouldn’t have taken it personally, but I did. 

I started having an imaginary conversation with her during which I explained all of the experiences and personal encounters of the last twenty years that have prepared me for this new endeavor. I gave her my credentials: degrees, certifications, work history, and platform. I gave evidence of my work ethic and my heart for teachers. 

By the time I imaginary hung up the phone, I had pumped myself up! I could see a path of stepping stones laid out over YEARS that have brought me to this new season.

It’s important to listen to people who are further down the road you’re trying to walk. Wise counsel is essential to developing your own wisdom. But don’t give a stranger’s acceptance or rejection of your dream more weight than it’s worth. Listen to wise people who know you and have proven themselves worthy of your attention by being honest in your highs and lows.