I had a beautiful dream

of fall leaves turned skeleton lace, floating in a sea of paper plates and darling satchel.

xo

layers

I've been connecting with like-minded people lately, which has been refreshing validation for who I am and how I live my life. And on the flip side? A dampening realization that I'm not that unique. It's a dangerous attachment for me, a slippery slope of ego fodder, and a paradox in itself. How is it possible to all be unique? I'm reconciling the wonder of individuality and the knowledge that layers down we are the same, atoms beyond atoms, all with the shared ability to feel pain and appreciate beauty. xo

munchkins, circa 1985

Squishiness aside, I do cherish my position in the middle.  

These past days have included treasure hunts, late wake-ups, book making and big emotions for those around me. My 7 weeks of cleansing and 4 weeks of intensive yoga are nearing an end.  There's some anxiety about re-entering the world of beer and bars, while maintaining the new level of health I feel. I hope it stops snowing soon and turns into summer.  xo    

old habits die hard

me and my mama

I've been pretty lucky in that for that past 7 years I have gotten paid to play, in one way or another.  xo

a note on pain and what we have to learn

In my time with those young addicts, I was often surprised by their entitled demands for advil.  Whether a headache, a toothache, or soreness from a hike, many were resistant to coping with even the small pains of life. Furthermore, the ones with the greatest intolerance for minor suffering were the ones who, in their pasts, had been most deeply wounded.  Like an allergy, they seemed to have developed a reaction to pain so strong they turned to relief at any cost.  One cost?  The silencing of a teacher, a tool and a guide for change.  xo

inspired by

11 year-olds on 5.11s

xo 

the long and short of it

As of tomorrow I am jobless. sigh.  It's been a sad an exciting week since the news broke, rich with celebration and remorse.  Wondering how to let these reckless kids go, coming back to paper cranes and simplicity.  It feels too soon.  xo

loss

space

"you have to want it!"

I keep coming back to this sage piece of advice, hurled down to me from a swinging chair as I pussyfooted through a field of moguls, steep deep and intimidating.

 xo

p.s.  I promised a student I would read a book, and I just can't stand the writing style.  blech. persevere?    

An anecdote I heard at work

"When my sister Petal was about four, my dad asked, 'what day is it today?' She looked at him and said reproachfully, 'Dad, today is today'".

to be contained

I've been collecting containers, from suitcases to dry sacks to glass jars: useful and inert spaces for the things I carry.

He said he could feel his cells tearing apart, and that his blankets were made of concrete.  It was enough to send him screaming through the house at 4 am in a half-dream daze, frightening the other students and testing Scott's capacity for calm (he passed).  Typically grounded and rational, an impish smile crept into his features as he relayed the incident: over two days old and fading.

Looking out my window with a cup of tea,  I see my neighbor carrying her toddler, unfazed by the deep drifts of snow and his relentless screaming.

The hardest part about that night was needing desperately to fall apart.

xo

because everyone else is.....

photos by me

Last night was strange: full of restless sleep, perseverating thoughts and dark dreams.  When I got to work there were whispers of a relapse, or maybe something worse. I had him stay close to me with his red-rimmed eyes, hollow cheeks and vacant stare, eagerly grateful for hot tea.  He slept on the couch in the living room, his unrest eventually melting to stillness. I dreamed of past students, bloated and decaying of flesh, urgent with desperation and wild running horses. Thought-pancakes of stale playa dust flipped over in my mind, flat and insubstantial.

chuckle bucket

I made a child cry yesterday.  He took one look at me, threw his arms up in the air and began to scream hysterically.  Even his mother couldn't console him.  xx

wishing serenity

for all the naughty frightened ones. xo

I stand corrected

I discovered this wonderful wise monkey face a few weeks ago: a linoleum block print carved by one of my kiddos.  The significance?  I didn't think she had it in her.   xo

"I do not give, except to myself"

babuu

rhoda

Thank you to my most magical children.
 xo