Spiralized learning

I believe that life is cyclical. Just like the moon, and the seasons, and the tides. We follow a pattern, a cycle. So are the lessons we might learn here. We might have addressed a topic, a lesson, a wound and done some work there but then the universe says "Well, let's revisit this and see if we can't clean it up a bit more. Go deeper this time" . So we spiral back to that topic, that lesson, that wound.

It's actually a very common curriculum tool in education, as well.

There is quite a lot of background information necessary for this all to make sense.

First let me start off with this...

I'm at the end of a 10 week wellness challenge and every week we chose a mantra. This week I chose this as my mantra: "Love yourself enough to say no". I chose that mantra because its Halloween week and candy is my kryptonite. What I meant was, say no to eating all my children's candy. Little did I know how much this mantra would play out later in the week...

Second, I am a recovering people pleaser. Not the kind of people pleaser who says the things that people want to hear. Actually, I do the opposite of that. I speak so honestly that sometimes I need to apologize for my words or at least clarify their intent.

No, my people pleasing is about doing, about performing, about showing up. As a child, I would get the good grades, and sing the solos and happily receive the recognition I deserved. It was how I knew my place, it was where I found my worth. In performing, in doing. I've written a lot about this topic on this blog. I thought I'd kicked this habit. I thought I'd healed this need to prove my worth to others and to myself.

Thirdly, my whole life, I've felt on the outside. On the outside of a group, looking for the secret  doorway to finally be IN.  Even at 30-something years old, no matter where I go, I'm looking for signs that I actually belong there. That I'm OK being in this place. The longer I live, the more I realize most people feel this way. But no one talks about it, so it may be that we are all looking for the secret doorway  IN that doesn't actually exist.

With all of that said, here is my spiral back...

September and October are always doing months for me. Months of volunteering and organizing, of PTO of church of soccer Saturdays. Getting back into the routine of school and meetings and Open House nights. Arranging schedules and cooking dinners and trying to fit it all in. There were lots of things to show up for. Lots of things to do.

 But, when I show up, I feel validated. I feel good. I feel accomplished.I feel worthy. So I yes'd my way through the months of  September and October and into lots of commitments. And ya know what? I survived! But I was glad to flip the calendar to November. I was happy to see a more restful month appear.

But then, new commitments came up. New requests to show up. And as much as the little voice inside me was screaming NOOOO, the people pleaser/wanting to belonger said 'yes'. Out of guilt, out of shame, out of obligation and fear.

"If I'm not doing the things, then the people won't like me and I'll never be part of that group" the voice in my head said.

"But it's too much" my heart argued. "It's all too much".

And alas, with that straw, the camel's back was broken.

Then came the tears. So many many tears.

When I could finally breathe again and ask myself "what the hell was that all about?". I put all these pieces together. I realized my need to please, my need for external validation, my need to hustle for my worth is still there. That urge is alive and well. I also realized my fear of being marginalized and alone, being outside of the group looking in is still there. I realized that by not listening to the mantra I set for myself earlier this week, I had walked straight into a trap of fear, guilt, and unworthiness. Just because I said 'yes' when I had really meant "no".



I may be biased in my perspective- but I think working in education puts you at increased risk to feel the pressure of doing, of showing up, of volunteering. You don't have office hours. There is no "out of office" reply on your email. The 'do it for the children' call to action is sure to pull at the heartstrings of any caring educator, despite the toll its taking on their own lives. Even Standard III on the MA Educator Evaluation- Community and Parent Engagement-acts as a mandate to show up.

Then there are the 'other' things, the after school meetings, the PTO meetings, the events, the special projects, the committees. All of these causes are worthy of our attention, of our showing up, of our help. So choosing the 'yes's' and the 'no's' can be a tough call.

And now, thanks to social media, you get to watch other teachers, other schools, other districts do things. Create things. Attend things. Show up. Volunteer. Engage. And the mucky waters of the comparison swamp pull you under until the guilt drowns you.

If I want to belong then I will do. For this person, or that group. That's the message, at least that's the one I've been whispering to myself for decades. But the reality of that is impossible. The reality of that leaves you crying endless tears in your office. The reality of constant doing and yes-ing is burn out, is resentment, is permanent medical leave, is living a life that is not your own.

There is only one person to belong to in this life and it is to Yourself  (that capitol Y is on purpose...)

 It is my responsibility to listen to that voice that says "Love yourself to say no" and honor it. To let go of the guilt and breath through the fear. To know that I am enough without doing damn thing to earn the title. And to then chose the things that fill me up, that give me life and to do those, with a resounding and heartfelt 'yes'.

This spiral back to these lessons probably started out as a whisper. But I missed it. It took a 2x4, a big upset reaction and endless tears for me to understand, for me to see.

I am worthy, I am enough and I belong to me.

So if you're reading this and you needed some permission to slow down or say 'no'. Take it from me, it's all good.

“You’re stealing my learning”

Tonight in our after dinner-before before bed-school night shenanigans, my 5 year old was building an alphabet puzzle. She was struggling with the middle of the alphabet so I proceeded to do what I do- I “cued” or prompted her. I began singing the alphabet song with her. And this was her response

I posted it on Instagram because it struck me so. But quickly realized this quote from my 5 year old was taking me to a deeper place requiring more reflection and so I must blog.

So what if I haven't written a blog post in 6 months?!


"You're stealing my learning".

Perhaps it's because it was said in response to such a natural habit of mine. A learned skill even, the cueing, the prompting. It's what I do ALL day with my kiddos at work. Perhaps it was the tone in which the message was delivered. Like she was really PISSED that I wasn't letting her figure this out on her own. Perhaps it's an abundance of worry about new reading "programs" and abysmal MCAS scores.

I'm not quite sure why but this quote struck a nerve. So much so that I had to write about it. Because if I write about it then I can think about it and I can learn from it. It's just how my processing works...

"You're stealing my learning".

My goodness, how many times in a day do I "steal" a child's learning. How many times a day do I accommodate and modify to a point that I am actually depriving that child of the opportunity to grapple, to grow, to learn. How many times do I personally invite a child to follow directions when, in fact, they might learn to do it more independently and faster if I let them fail once in a while.

Working in Special Education is like walking a fine line. Meeting the child where they are while trying desperately to get them to where they "need to be" is a never ending battle.

But what I realized tonight, thanks to my daughter, is that every struggle is an opportunity to learn. Or at least, an invitation to try.

How many times have I fed a child a word they were decoding because we just had to get to answering the questions?  How many times have I taken the pencil and wrote a child's answer because the rest of the class was already finished and my 30 minutes were almost up?

This isn't to say I need to let go and watch my darlings drown in the turbulent waters of grade level curriculum expectations. This isn't to say I don't continue to provide them the accommodations they need to succeed.

But maybe, just maybe, I let their learning be their own instead of a reflection of my support. Maybe I let them grapple, let them miss the direction and watch how they struggle through that and figure out a way to do it differently next time. Maybe I let them....learn.

It's possible I'm being dramatic about the words of a frustrated 5 year old. The thing is, I know myself well enough to know that when you hear what sounds like such a profound message- then, girlfriend, that means you need to listen...

Being human is hard

 

I scrolled by this picture the other day on Instagram and just loved it.

If you're off the 're-creation', 'quantum physics' sort of mindset, then you get this. Otherwise, maybe not...

 

Today is May- well actually tomorrow is May, but since I usually spend most of Sunday preparing for Monday, it might as well be May.

 

May is hard for me. May if full. It's full of to-do's at work. It's full of anxiety about rumors of changes for next school year while trying desperately to finish all work left to do this school year. Also meetings- so many, many meetings.  May is when a full social calendar at home leaves me it's own to-do list there too. May is when my baby girl was born and when my father died. By the time May is over, I usually am too. Done, tired, spent.

 

Today as I peered into May, I realized that in the span of one week I will be celebrating my son's First Communion, my daughter's 5th birthday and my remembering my father's 3rd anniversary of death.

 

"Dear God" I thought (appropriately so as I was in church at the time) "how in the world am I going to handle all of those things in such a short span of time? How ever will I survive that emotional shit storm?".

 

Talk to any mother and they will share the range of emotions that comes with watching your babies grow. It truly defines "bittersweet". There is so much joy and love but also so much heartache and even more 'where did the time go?'.  So birthdays can be tough. Milestones, like First Communion only add to that seeming heartbreak. It's heavy, even when its really a celebration, that's how it feels for the feely type of people- heavy. And then, after that, will come the grief. The grief that arrives as May marches on and we remember my Dad.

 

I wondered how I- how any of us- navigate the range of emotions that comes along with being Human. How do we get up every day, go to work and function when we're carrying around all this stuff? How do we fake a smile and answer "fine" when someone asks how we are doing?

 

We are not fine! We are drowning! We are drowning in a sea of feely emotions! Well, maybe not every day...but sometimes!

 

It is no wonder why some people check out. Why they numb out with wine, or pills, or social media or cookies.

 

Because numb is easier than feeling. Numb is predictable. Emotions are not. As an experienced numb-er, I get that. I lived that. Sealing your heart up behind a border wall is a much safer way to negotiate life.

 

But here's the thing. Life- life is in those emotions. A numb life may be predictable but it's no  life at all.

 

We are here so briefly. We need to soak this shit up. The good, the bad and the ugly. We need to feel it. The good, the bad and the ugly. And we need to live it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

 

So how will I survive this May? How will I ensure that I don't dive so deep into this sea of emotions that I will float away? Or more realistically, spend the month in a binge of epic proportions...

 

- I will breathe. Sometimes that's enough. A good deep, diaphragmatic (hello voice lessons!) breath

- I will move. Whether it's working out or taking a walk or digging in my garden. Doing helps to process those emotions, to move through them.

- I will talk. Maybe I won't answer "fine" the next time someone asks me how I am. Or maybe I'll write more. Experience tells me that breathing my thoughts into words is therapeutic.

- I will show up. Be present. Live these moments. For these are the moments that I've got.

and most importantly I will remember...

 

 

Like the moon waxes and wanes, and the tide rises and falls. So, too, can I. And be OK.

 

Here's to not only surviving May, but living it.