my puzzle trees

October 28, 2007

for the past few years i have been trying to find my place. trying to find the puzzle pieces that would complete the picture of who i am. my borders have been completed for years, and the big blue sky has been filled in since childhood, my dreams and moral code etched out in billowy white clouds and a dark orange sunset. but i have been on the search for the rest of it–for the trees.

there have been roots and branches for awhile now, but they aren’t all finished. there is a tree for graduate school, a silver birch with shining, opalescent bark that reminds me i am capable of mental and personal challenges far beyond my own comprehension. there is a trio of evergreens, fragrant and full, high on a hill surrounded by wildflowers, these are my family. the cherry blossom tree on the left, always in bloom, always blushing in the hazy light of late afternoon, is my marriage. the dense forest creeping across the mountains is filled with all of the people i have ever loved, and those who have loved me…these trees are so connected that you cannot tell which branches belong to which tree, and the root systems are entertwined.

now i find myself trying to fill in the orchard, the granny smith apple trees, and the orange grove behind it. these are my professional life, bearing fruit, nourishing lives, and giving something back. i have been searching for so long for just the right seeds. just the right fertilizer, trying to lay a foundation that will support these trees long after i have gone. a foundation that will allow the work i have done to be resonant upon the earth when i no longer am. this has been the hardest space to fill, and i now see it always will be. because what i was looking for was not a career, not a profession, it was a feeling, a rising heat in my chest that signals i have done something significant, i have brought a light into the world that was not here before, i have helped someone, done something, been effective and affective on the planet. all i want in life is to finish my puzzle trees and, at the end of it all, to gaze on them with wonder knowing i did that.

and to never find myself feeling like this:



October 26, 2007

home to salina for some r & r with the rents, and some party time with the jpp crew. sadly, mr. alex will not be making the trip with me, a he is law school socks this weekend. p.s. my week got better fo sho.

horrible morning

October 24, 2007

this morning i sent 3 kids out in 5 minutes during first hour, and asked one if she thought her behavior made her a badass. and i said the word “idiots” under my breath which one of them heard, making me feel horrible. then i had to have a sit down with administrators about being the professional adult in the room. i get that i am the one in charge/control, but even i have limits. i want so badly for my kids to be successful, and most of them work when certain rogue personalities aren’t in the room. i just hate being reprimanded for caring about everyone else in the room. yes, i should have handled the situation better, but the rest of the students worked their asses off the rest of the hour, once the disturbances were gone. the system is terribly flawed, but if we want kids to keep working, to really succeed, we have to have high standards, and sometimes we have to reach them on their level. uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

i wonder…

October 23, 2007

if all the rich white people displaced by the fires in california will get faster, better assistance from fema and the government than the poor black people did who were displaced by katrina?

the dog of art

October 23, 2007

i spent the morning listening to the cure’s “disentegration” in my classroom to prepare me for my halloween costume, and to prep for the day.  realizing this was the poem of the day on my Poetry Speaks calendar just made so much karmic sense.

The Dog of Art

That dog with daisies for eyes
who flashes forth
flame of his very self at every bark
is the Dog of Art.
Worked in wool, his blind eyes
look inward to caverns and jewels
which they see perfectly,
and his voice
measures forth the treasure
in music sharp and loud,
sharp and bright,
bright flaming barks,
and growling smoky soft, the Dog
of Art turns to the world
the quietness of his eyes.

Denise Levertov

1) sometimes i eat too much spaghetti and feel like my tummy wil explode.

2) sometimes my husband does the laundry and i do the dishes and all is right with the world.

3) sometimes the tide-to-go pen does NOT take out stains and i want to cry.

4) sometimes a 3 day weekend isn’t long enough.

5) but ALWAYS: jamie wins. at life. and any other games she chooses (or chooses not) to play.


October 14, 2007