Learn, Think, Write

Organizing myself online

Goodbye Twitter

I’ve been thinking about this for months now–maybe a year or more.

And then I read this post last week, which so resonated I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. (What’s funny is that even after he wrote it, he encourages people at the end of the post to get in touch with him.) But what happened to me is that I realized all that I read in such random blips really can, at time, upset me. Now that I’m spending less and less time thinking about the classroom and more and more time writing, I think it’s time to let it go.

He writes:

I’ll admit: I’m an annoyingly oversensitive person. I do believe this is both a strength and a weakeness. I have a tendency to go with my gut more often that not because it yells very, very loudly.

My gut tells me April is a great month to take a break from social media in general.  I am awaiting spring weather and all that it brings to my head and heart (I”m sure I suffer from SAAD).

Now, back to the writing….

 

 

 

 

The Mind

Teaching children social-emotional awareness and how to control their breathing (mindfulness)…I’m so glad to see this organization working toward that goal.

A link provides lots of research and resources, but the site mentions a conference from 2011 and nothing since. I hope the idea is spreading…

Finding History

IMG_0481Mom is settled in her new home, just in time.

The New England blizzard deposited 22 inches of snow around her building, but she was warm and safe.

While I was moving her, I discovered old boxes of letters and cards she had saved over the years. I couldn’t help taking a few minutes to sift through the piles, and I found treasures!

I recognized the handwriting in a poem I wrote to my dad while he was in Vietnam. (I think I was in fourth grade.) The first line shows my typical “big-sister” bossy self: Daddy, I had the idea of a poem first. Debbie copied me!

Daddy, we miss you such an awful, awful lot,

We hope you sleep on a soft, fluffy bed, not an old rag cot.

I was embarrassed by the second, a poorly written piece I attempted in college. I called it “On Contemplating the Thought That I’ve Finally Grown Up,” a poem letting my parents know how much I appreciated them. What a mush of sickening sweet, flowery stuff. At least I worked on line breaks:)

 

 

 

An Afternoon

Rain today.

Needed, but dismal

Even the cat backs away from the open door.
The dog falls asleep to the rhythmic sound on the roof.

You gather your thoughts and remember what she said.

I am fine. Just fine.
The rain continues to fill your head with questions,
Knowing she is not.
#npm prompt: rain

Sleep

Sleep doesn’t come easily to me anymore. I fall asleep fine. But, if something interrupts my sleep, it’s all over. And I am finding the more I think about writing, the more I think about writing. The other night, the cat decided to jump on the bed and sit on my chest, purring loudly. Once awake, I started analyzing the plot to a story I’m working on. I really like one of the characters, but I hadn’t developed her enough. Finally, I had to get out of bed and write. (Thus yesterday’s poem about finding morning to be a relief.)

I am also taking the advice of writers who say we have to be willing to write badly. After years of writing only nonfiction (as a journalist) or posts on my blog, I am treading carefully into creative writing. It’s painful, at times. Yet, I take seriously this gift of time to explore my creative side through painting, sketching, and writing.

And, now, back to work….