Be the change you want to see.

Tonight dance was wonderful. There was so much music i had never heard before, and a few familiar tunes... It's been two weeks since i got to dance and i missed it and my body missed it too. (Yes, we are the same thing, still i missed it twice.)

The lesson tonight was about relationships: what are you drawn to, repelled by, what is difficult what is easy... I flashed on my brother dancing at his wedding... He was intentionally ridiculous, showing off. And on our childhood choreography and on things like high school dances where it always felt like everyone was watching (me, self conscious? Nahhh)

Movement was performative. Softball games, basketball, i didn't find my way into moving joyously till after college when i started social dance and country dance... Just dancing for ourselves and because it was fun, no competition, and performance wasnt the primary goal at all...

This realization seems important. And my body is much happier after 2 hours of loving movement. I'll bring this to my therapy appointment tomorrow.

And i think i want to try to connect with the irish dance club on stanford, and try it out agsin. Claire played some AfroCelt Sound System tonight and my bodymind went NUTS. It was great and horrible. (More on this when i have access to a proper keyboard.)

Edit: forgot to mention that this was the birthday celebration for November babies and i got to stand in the center and receive loving touch from my dance family. And Erin helped massage away my sinus headache. Yay!

And there is one thing i have to talk to Claire about, it's an ongoing thing where another dancer keeps staring at me. (Boo) Uncomfortable and IDK how to manage the situation.

Love is a verb.

It’s taken me many years to realize that intentions don’t count for much unless I actually DO SOMETHING about them. Teach. Reach Out. Help people who need it. Talk. Listen. Figure something out and then Do that thing. Make. Write. Art (yes, it’s a verb). Dance. Share something that’s important with people who matter.

Make stuff. Laugh. Sing. Enjoy where I am now. Strive toward something meaningful.

What’s next?
No idea. I’m making the map as I travel. I used to believe that everyone else had gotten the map, and I was stuck behind the door somehow, but I know better now.

We’re all on stage, improvising. Or in the workshop, building from scratch, solving problems, making mistakes and fixing them. Or writing, revising, sculpting a new shape with words on a page.

Starting from the quiet place works best for me.
Here’s a moment of quiet.

"The thing is, we spend too much time looking outside ourselves for what we should really be trying to find inside. But we can't seem to trust what we find in ourselves --maybe because that's where we find it. I suppose it's all a part of how we ignore who we really are. We're so quick to cut away pieces of ourselves to suit a particular relationship, a job, a circle of friends, incessantly editing who we are until we fit in. Or we do it to someone else. We try to edit the people around us.

I don't know which is worse...

...Why do we love ourselves so little? Why are we suspect for trying to love ourselves, for being true to who and what we are rather than what someone else thinks we should be? We're so ready to betray ourselves, but we never call it that. We have all these other terms to describe it: Fitting in. Doing the right thing. Getting along. ...

...But how can we expect others to respect or care for us, if we don't respect and care for ourselves? And how come nobody asks, "if you're so ready to betray yourself, why should I believe that you won't betray me as well?" "

-- from "My Life as a Bird" in Moonlight and Vines by Charles de Lint

Once upon a time there was a teacher.

She struggled to do right by her students, but her training had been incomplete and spotty, and sometimes she failed them. However, she kept learning and trying new ways to teach because her love for her subject and for the students themselves was pure. (Well, pure for the most part. Sometimes she had trouble connecting the subject to the students' lives in a relevant fashion, and sometimes the students drove her to distraction with their questions, demands, "bad days" and even celebratory moments. Such is life.)

This teacher worked for years with a majority of students who came from poor and disadvantaged families, students who'd been abused or neglected, and students with learning difficulties of all kinds. It took a long time (and a second, more comprehensive teacher training) to be able to recognize that none of the students were "bad kids." She realized that NO kids are inherently "bad", but that some students travel through life encountering so many obstacles, roadblocks, and people telling them, "You can't" that they were perpetually in a state of frustration. And of course, people in a state of constant frustration generally cannot learn well. Nor do such people tend to have a positive and hopeful attitude, or kind and polite manners.

Then this teacher moved to a different part of the state, where many things were different. In this new town, schools had adequate funding to maintain necessary scholastic resources and facilities, and moreover to attract talented and dedicated teachers - and keep them. In this town, the parents have the financial resources to keep their children healthy, fit, protected, and encouraged their children toward high achievements, big dreams, goals and plans for the future.

The children in the schools our teacher now found herself in, seem (compared to her previous students) incredibly polite, discreet, and well mannered. They are also (almost unbelievably, compared to her previous students) self-confident and secure in themselves and in their own potential to make a difference in the world and to succeed in their own lives.

***

Sometime around a year ago I believe I wrote a post about this comparison. I resented the privilege these students lived in, grew up in, were supported by, to the precise degree that I loved and ached for my Children of struggle. Children of privilege, (I felt) had so much to take for granted. For awhile I believed they were arrogant and self-centered and uncaring about the world (though I had little evidence to support the first and third assumption. As for the second, to exist is to be self-centered; it must be so).

I don't believe this anymore.
They are children. Children nearly-grown and planning toward their futures, but children. Insecure about their place in the world some of the time, putting a brave face on things some of the time. And flamboyantly confident some of the time, in the bulletproof way the young can be across the face of the planet.

Yes they are privileged. No, they don't yet realize their privilege, or the extent to which their security and unhampered opportunities for growth have given them a leg-up on the rest of the world, and sometimes they are going to seem obnoxious or oblivious to peers who have had to strive and fight their way into their potential and their future. But, but... these are as open and hungry for knowledge and meaning and SIGNIFICANCE in their own lives as any students I have ever met. I had a moment today, talking about Poetry and Poets with a class of AP Senior English, and they all, *all*, felt like they were utterly open hearted and deeply interested, ready to learn and stretch and grow.

These Children are no more "bad kids" than the previous Children I taught. These Children are just lucky enough to have less in the way of their achieving their destiny, their potential, of making their future in the shape they choose.

I'm embarrassed to admit how I tarred them with the brush of my own misguided opinions, but I'm hoping I can do better in future now I can see The Actual Students more clearly.

It's a short little book, The Five Love Languages, but it makes a lot of sense.
People speak different love languages.

The examples Chapman uses are: Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gift-giving (or receiving), and Quality Time. If you and your lover speak different "languages", you are going to have a difficult time getting your needs met: as time goes on and you aren't feeling loved, even if your lover is making an effort, you become increasingly frustrated and feel empty and unloved.

You get a gimme at first when you fall in love: love relationships when they begin have a "honeymoon period". However, you can only fly so far on Limerence, aka the in-love feeling, aka NRE. Limerence lasts for a finite time... after that, well, your jet fuel starts to run out, if you don't mind the metaphor.

You can fill your tank with The Good Stuff by finding (or properly training!) a partner on how to Speak YOUR Love Language. If they can't speak your Love Language, it doesn't fill your emotional tank. They might give you kerosene when you need gasoline, or water when you need oil. They're trying, they made an effort, they want credit, but if it's a language you don't speak, or a fuel you're unable to use?
( Read more... )
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Long Story Short:
My Love Languages, in order, seem to be:

1st: Acts of Service (Will you do something for me, or with me? Can I do something with you, or for you?)
2nd: Physical Touch (Hug me, cuddle me, sit near to me so our feet or knees touch)
3rd: Words of Affirmation (Tell me you love me, that I'm pretty, that I'm doing good work or that you're proud of me)

"Gifts" got a ZERO score from me on both versions of the test I took. Doesn't mean I don't appreciate thoughtful gifts: I have a Scarf Lynn Leonard made for me, that I *love* and adore, an embroidery sample from Betty Pugh on my wall (both older lady co-workers in schools, both birthday presents, and both made for me, personalized with me in mind, so maybe even more Act of Service than Gift?), the easel, paints, brushes, scarf, and rose fragrance from Mom, the quilt T.R. bought for my 40th birthday, and others. I enjoy giving gifts to people sometimes too... I made a point for the first time in years to get presents for my immediate family and Jeff's too, and that felt good.

HOWEVER.
*grinning*
I *loved* that Lance and Joanne came over to help decorate my christmas tree this year. I *loved* helping R and TR with paperwork, hosting Paula as well, and feeding everyone into the bargain. I *loved* my Mad Hatter Tea Party a couple years ago, the clothing swap that I hosted in my bitty little place in Pleasant Hill, and I have warm, loving feelings toward all the people who have EVER helped me move house, and that's a LOT of people. I *loved* baking shortbread for last year's Waldorf assembly and I *loved* that so many people came to tell me that they loved my baking! Then, too, the compliment from Dorit on my work in our eurythmy performance will nestle in my heart forever... *bask*

Knowing I am appreciated in many ways, by many different people, makes me feel loved. Acts of Service, and Quality Time, Words AND Touch.

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( Read more... )
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I feel respected and loved when I am noticed with words. (Jenna, one of the 7th graders from my practicum class, noticed and said she loved my new boots which I wore today (yes, those boots.)) Hee! I heard from one of the Waldorf parents during my practicum that her daughter said my lessons were fun and that she was learning good things. *swoon!*

I feel respected and loved when someone I care about helps me with a task or does something for me. The other day TR and Diana were at Orchard Supply and they called to ask me if I needed anything, then brought me a bag of soil so I could repot some plants. *squee* They a) Heard my Words and b) Did Something that helped me with a Task! super yay! Jeff vacuumed the WHOLE HOUSE after we got the new vacuum. It took him 4 hours because we hadn't vacuumed in almost a year. MEGA yay, and super bonus brownie points!

I feel respected and loved when I receive the kind of touch I crave: sometimes gentle and loving, sometimes tempestuous and passionate. I express love and caring attention by trying to pay attention to how and whether people I care about, like to be touched. At work, I use gentle, respectful touch to get my point across and to build relationships with students - a pat on the back for encouragement, a touch on the hand or shoulder to draw attention. I noticed the same kind of behavior in the teacher whose class I worked for today (I have GOT to find an alternative to the term "subbing"... ack. I AM a teacher, I'm not a substitute for a teacher. I'm just a *different* teacher than the class's usual teacher... okay, </ soapbox>... I like "guest teacher" and will try to be consistent in using that.). As a teacher, you have to be the Alpha Wolf, and you can accomplish some of that dominance in a quiet and affectionate way with touch.

I get a high from dancing with people... Act of Service (doing something I love with me) AND Physical Touch! Woo-Hoo! (Again, why am I NOT doing this more OFTEN?!?!?)

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I would challenge everyone who has had "communication difficulties" in a relationship, to familiarize yourself with the concept of Love Languages, learn your own, and try to figure out what the other person's may be.

Might very well be that EVERYONE could have a full Emotional Fuel Tank... and then we could ALL fly!

What fills your tank with the right fuel?
What fills THEIR tank with the right fuel?
Are you willing to do what it takes for the person you love to have a full tank, even if it doesn't come naturally to you?

Learn how to fly. Learn how to fill your tank, so you can fly, and so you can help others to fly.

I think I've figured out a great big part of my problem as I work thru the phases of the Waldorf teacher training.

I've had this problem my WHOLE LIFE, and it manifests out in a variety of different ways.
I want to belong SO BAD that I ... push. I push outward, striving to find and create intimacy on an artificial timeline. I want to put down roots. I want to be HOME.

My discomfort of the last two days is related to feeling like "this could be home" or judging "this SHOULD be home" and then my roots start pushing outward, looking for the rich soil of connection and community.

Problem: I DON'T belong. I might belong someday, but I don't belong THERE, now. And I have to accept that, and work around it.

So I'm imagining myself, my life, as a potted plant, some kind of lively tree in a pot that is simply too small.

Naturally I'm going to try to poke my roots out, it's what trees DO. But I don't HAVE to take primary sustenance from what's outside my pot (my personal life), my pot has nutrients enough. And I can imagine my pot being carried to this place, carried to that place, doing the work that this tree needs to do =), and sampling the earth wherever I go.

I am enough, and I have enough. I am not starving anymore, I can rein in that behavior.

I can bring what I am able to bring to the school and the students, and go home and get fed with family, kittehs, and friends. And I can bring what I am able to bring to the Waldorf teacher training, and get fed there somewhat, help feed others somewhat, work my ass off, and come home to rest and recharge.

I am enough, and I have enough.

As far as the rest goes, I'll keep on keeping on, let myself recognize what I'm feeling, and keep learning from it.

*whew*

Guess I've been here a long time now.

Here's something I learned this weekend.

I grew up in Sacramento but have spent the last several years slagging it off and praising the Bay Area. Thing is, I don't have to slag off one place to love another place. And visiting family and friends this weekend has been good from the perspective of appreciating how much value-added Sacramento has in terms of old, vivid, meaningful memories. There are stories around every corner: there's where so and so used to live, I got my first tattoo there, Drat my favorite thrift store has gone out of business, there's my first apartment where I lived with Jeff for a little while, etc. Stories that go back so far that I remember distances in minutes-walked or bicycled because I was a kid and that's just how you got around.

Stories that shaped me.

In a similar vein, I found myself falling into old habits of snarkitude. I'm embarrassed to admit this. I took the easy shot, more than once in the last week or so, snarking or slagging people who are "easy targets", people who other people also make fun of, people who I used to make fun of myself. I don't need to do that either anymore. I don't like how I am when I do that. I want to be a person who speaks up when my cousin says something I object to, not wait till he's out of earshot and snark on him. I want to work on that level of courage. I want to have the courage of my convictions and the strength to hold them up.

Truth is more important than the easy laugh.
Integrity is more important than avoiding offense.

It's time to kick things up a notch. It's time to show up and take on more responsibility, take care with the details to make sure they are done properly. It's time to reach out and go get what I need for my life and my health and quit avoiding, best I can, the things that I don't want to have to do but that I know I need to do if I'm going to launch into the next phase of my development and my impact on the world.

I want to make an impact. I'm okay with it being subtle (though knowing me, I'll probably be a bit brash and loud about it instead) and I'm okay with being small-scale.
For now.

Taking care of business is what I can do right now. Bringing Quality and Commitment to whatever I choose to spend my energies on. What I realized this morning, is that means, if I'm being a housewife, to take care of things as best I can, and don't put it off till tomorrow. If I'm being a student, same thing. If I'm jobhunting, same thing. (sensing a trend here? Yes, I procrastinate)

I need to use available tools to help me stay on track, motivated, on top of things, and to complete quality work. To quote a certain famous Hindu, I need to be the change I wish to see in the world. And let what doesn't matter, fall away.

I think I better go. I have work to do.

I have this not-fully-fleshed thought this morning/afternoon/whatever... want to explore it.

we call those who are demonstrably self-centered, who speak and act primarily for and about themselves, who demonstrate a belief that their actions and thoughts impact the world: ARROGANT.

is there a term for people who seem to believe that only OTHER people matter? Edit: in a wildly unrealistic or drastically misplaced humility, only other people's thoughts, actions, beliefs matter? Or is that also ARROGANT and SELF-CENTERED, only in a backwards, skewed, or mirror-universe kind of way?

Recently reflecting on my thoughts around the end of the Drama/Reading teaching job... and I recall at some point believing that I didn't need to tell the (drama) students that I wasn't coming back next year... because they'd have a better Drama teacher next year? I know I was rationalizing. I knew it then.

I know to some degree, I decided not to share because it make it be awkward, difficult to do the job... but there was also a touch of "because I didn't matter"...

On one level, I know I did matter. I had students hug and confide in me; I stayed late and sometimes came early to facilitate the things the students were passionate about, I was learning to be an advocate for them.

and yet, I was convinced that me leaving wouldn't matter to them, to the office, to my department...

was it an intellectual conceit to protect my own feelings or to make the perceived emotional impact of my leaving less?
was it a derelict remainder from my years of low self-esteem?

Five summers ago, I expressed shock and amazement when Jeff (we had just started dating) downloaded both Evanescence albums because I was enthusiastic about them; I had just heard one album in its entirety for the first time.

He held my hand and caught my eyes and said, "You know, you have an IMPACT. What you know, what you like, it makes an impression on people."

That blew me away.

Sat there, flummoxed, (and probably crying), trying to assimilate the concept.

I still am made of fail with regards to incorporating this into my life.
Of course, if what I do (or don't do) doesn't matter, there are all sorts of corollaries.

Like, I don't have to work too hard. No one will care.
a whole other bunch of don't have to's follow, of course, (fill in the blanks yourself, you're imaginative people (see, there I go again))

but those don't have to's get blown away if I have made a commitment to live an ethical lifestyle. For me.

Regardless of the impact I believe I have on the world (which =! my actual impact on the world, I know), if I'm living an ethical life, there's the one undeniable reason to follow up on my promises, to work hard and well, to try hard, to work toward personal growth,
For me.
Because it's the right thing to do.

I joke about being a solipsist. I think I need to examine what parts of that notion are valid and workable and which I need to discard.

and maybe in this regard I'm coming at the question ass backwards, I matter because I'm ethical, but until I finish up a bunch of other healing work I think that is the best, clearest path for me to walk, to arrive at the conclusion that I matter.

mentioned bout my compost, the last post?

was thinking about gardening today, went to check the bin and see how much work it would be to shovel/rake the stuff out into the garden... saw a plastic ziploc in there.

I was thinking, well, that must have just been us being lazy, not emptying one of the bags of ...stuff we'd collected for compost...

so I reach in and fish it out...

and there's no rotting vegetable matter inside, instead, there's RINGS.

specifically, my high school class ring, and my wedding and anniversary rings from my first marriage.

WTF? I know I was intending to put those away somewhere safe (THOUGHT I'd put them in the safe deposit box), have been planning to do some kind of purification on them (and then return the wedding ring to either a cousin or a niece for future use, to keep it in the family...)

I have a slight idea of the mishap that might have landed that bag in the bin... but it's still weird.

Somewhat karmic, and the end result (energetically) is probably the same as what I MEANT to do with them...

I'm still sitting here with this odd look on my face. The rings are soaking and I'll take them to be cleaned, then figure out the final disposition. It's Errand Day today anyway.

An old friend of mine who I've just found again on Myspace, posted the following video interview with Naomi Campbell, author of The End of America: Letter of Warning to a Young Patriot.

Seriously. The radio interview here (sorry I don't know how to embed) is enough that I am heading to check out the website she cites as supporting the necessary actions to:

Restore the Rule of Law
Hold the Criminals Accountable
Restore Habeus Corpus
Forbid Warantless Wiretapping
Remove Torture from "this is what we do in America"...

what the fuck happened, and how have I been so asleep as to not realize how grave the situation has become?

I'm adding SF, BBC, and Canadian newsfeeds to my blogroll.

The website is http://www.americanfreedomcampaign.org.

( text of their message is here: )

Take a minute. This is not the nation I used to pledge allegiance to when I was not in grade school.
This is not Mr. Reagan's "City on the Hill", a shining beacon of democracy.
This is not a country I am proud to be a part of.

Go read, and decide for yourself.

Please.