SOL26 Bone-Up

Today, I am sharing with my Slice of Life Community about a little bit of my life, lately.

I signed up: 

• reluctantly for a timeslot right smack in the middle of the day requiring me to stay two hours after swim and eliminating pickle ball that day. 
• because they only accept only 6-8 people per 10 week session and I had been been waitlisted 3 times.
• in support of someone I know who is doing the dreaded rehab that I want to avoid as long as possible.

I tried to:

• lift weights into space, slowly with correct form way too many times
• pull that bar from way up over my head until it was way down below my navel.
• push that weighted plate with until my abs were crying for me to stop
• balance some ball left over from defunct Lamaze classes behind my back as I squatted against the wall

After, I

• felt muscle, joint, ligament, fiber, corpuscle in my body crying for relief
• was exhausted and tired in that way you might be if you ran a marathon 
• was thinking that I was in far worse shape than I thought I was in that morning
• was reflective on the challenges of rehabbing one's body
• was grateful I could walk out on my own even if I was headed for a hot shower and Tylenol
• was praying for those whose challenges are greater than my own

Sept 13 Searching

After 12 hours of pouring rain, I am hoping for the skies to heal from whatever heartbreak made them open their coffers and turn streets into streams. In the early morning, I did embrace the rhythm of the rain and finished book. Then, clad in my towel-robe, I wrapped up a project that has hung over my head, just like the clouds!  After admiring my online poetry-prolific friends (Kim, Glenda, Denise...) writing over at Ethical ELA, I bravely began sharing my own poetry monthly and in a fit of thinking that I should share the work, I forgot that I was not really a writer and agreed to host a day of writing in November!  

The easy part was sharing my published writing (a million report card comments, hundreds of CSE evals, lots of blog posts and my dissertation that nobody in their right mind has ever read) I had to write my poem that would be sort of front and center for all to see!  Yikes, that was hard. I think I wrote 25/30 this morning. I drank coffee and took potty breaks.  I daydreamed and then, I realized that was all the easy part.  I needed a picture of me!  Who knew that I had only taken a few pictures in the past decade and they were all horrible pictures of me.  In my defense, there are some great pictures of me with my nieces who share on social medial. There have been some good pictures with some of my grands, but I cannot fairly publish with just one of my bevy of loved littles. There is even one OK picture of me with some of my grands before they were all earth-side. 

I can and do photoshop in Canva, but cutting and pasting images back here is problematic.  And so, I am not sharing any of the 100 selfies taken this morning as the rain laughed and cried at me! If anyone has a picture of just me, just my head, not looking awful, not in a bathing suit, let me know before midnight! I will share my poem draft because it really is about memories and glimpsing the future, not about photos. 

I started with Joy Harper’s Remember, and drafted a memory-poem to my children about hiking and biking along trails. 

I Remember 

Your soft head tucked next to my heart

Leaves crunched as I trudged, 

Holding tight

As if I knew you would dance in puddles,

Run like a cheetah, ride like the wind,

Revel is snowdrifts, explore crevices 

I had never noticed before,

Scale rocky bluffs, peer over cliffs,

Become lost to all but the moon, while I

Held my breath

As if you knew, someday you would

Hold yours on your shoulders

Until they found magical acorns

You had never noticed

Before they ran into the future

As if they were destined

Sept. 11 We Remember

A teacher, who spent 9-1-1 in their bouncy seat, asked students, yet to be a twinkle in their parents' hearts, to interview someone who was able to remember that day. 

I might have shared my prayers

This was not the end of the world

Her boyfriend did not die,

His son was not at work,

She was uptown, he was late,

An adult would meet each child,

I might have prayed for those

Signing up to end terrorism

Breathing the poisoned air

Left to carry on after loss of

Lives, innocence. 

A brilliant sunrise,

Planes bent on destruction,

Lives lost instantly, others 

Destroyed slowly, all

Changed forever 

Today, darkened skies prevail

Shattered lives remain, 

As we remember

SOL26 Why Fireworks?

I'm sharing with the Slice of Life Community today.  

For many teachers and students, even here in the Northeast, school has already begun; yet, some families near me were clearly celebrating the beginning of this new school year with an impressive array of fireworks as the sun set, much too early, on Labor Day. 

I wonder why they did not go "down the shore" to celebrate the long weekend?

I wonder if they are celebrating kids who are busy/working/learning all day?

I wonder if they are just excited about the shorter days and cooer weather?

I wonder if others are optimistic about the fresh start of a school year?

I wonder if they are just looking ahead to curling up under a blanket with a good book?

I wonder if they were just letting off steam from built up frustration with inflation, wars, and politics?

I wonder about all the money they blew letting off steam!

Sept 7 : Carpe Diem

It was a rare day when political concerns, international tensions, and many other worries melted. Time stood still and yet flew as childlike happiness filled souls with peace.  On the way home, all those concerns moved back but the glow lingered.

Moments of joy, hard

Challenges, decisions, work,

Must Carpe Diem

Sept. 5 Good Enough

I went alone, leaving in the rain, needing only one chair, even though I thought it would be a bit sad.
I was there just long enough to wake up and hear the waves and walk on the beach in the rain, between the thunderstorms, 

I ate in restaurants rather than taking out, sharing with the waves and my book.

I sat under towels when it was too windy for umbrellas, back against the wind, grateful for the exfoliating as an unplanned extra.

I walked slowly in the rain, watching for those lightning detected alerts, remembering life doesn't have to go as planned to be good.

I felt less guilty for all those places in my life where I could have been/should have been better, stronger, more generous.

Somewhere along the path, between the rain clouds, beneath the angry flashing skies, it took traveling alone, to a place I thought was for families, to understand that even when life does not go as planned it is good enough. 

Like that less than perfect shell that landed at my chipped toes as they ordered us off the beach, it was good enough. 

Spiritual Thursday:: Sept 3: Waves

Ramona is hosting Spiritual Thursday today and has asked us to consider her OLW, rhythm.  .

I was thinking about my cousin as I walked this morning in a light, for the moment, rain before another thunder event rolled through. They're beginning rehab from a biggie-life-event and asked only for prayers?  

For many in these parts, my son and grandchildren, it was also back to school day in an effort to get them settled before Labor Day Weekend. 

I was thinking of them both as I walked this morning in a light, for the moment, rain before another thunder event rolled through. Ramona's OLW reverberated in my head as the waves, angered by the looming storm, rolled onto the sand. 

Walking on the beach, in the rain, with my midweek-beach-trip over, assured of another storm,  I could not help but count my blessings (retired teacher status and health) as I walked and prayed for them. The rhythm of the waves was relentless like the challenges of living. 

I am pretty sure that the sun peeking through the clouds even in the rain was a promise of hope. 

Relentless, those waves

Like life's many challenges

Sun promises hope

 

August 30: Whose Influence

Sometimes, like today, I write things down to help clarify my thoughts! 

I heard, via the grapevine, that a family nearby are in the social influence field. They have really nice vehicles, go on regular, lavish vacations, renovated a beautiful home, have regular Fed-Ex visits, and do lots of filming as they walk/ride past on bikes/scooters and wagons. I

I did know of Babs, a 70 something who shares her tips on housecleaning, living and Talbot's outfits started appearing in my Facebook world during Covid era as well as the Excuse My Grandma team from NYC. Yet, I  did not realize, until recently, that there are many individuals/couples and families working full time in this field to share their lives, faith, families, and homes. I am not an expert in this area, nor to I plan to be, but a wee bit of exploring led me to meet large, inter abled, culturally and religious diverse as well as gamers, farmers, teachers, and many others!  

I found some of the peering into others lives to be interesting, like people watching at a fair or in the airport on the grand scale. Yet, there was one part that really made me uneasy and that was including children, their school experiences, and lessons in conversations and videos. Let's be honest, there is a part of me that finds the whole AI/YouTube/Social Influence world down right scary.

As a pretty private person, even now, I struggle with this in an enormous way; yet, I really do get that it is an income that lets you be at home and raise your children and/or have really nice things to try/hawk/wear and experience!  Then, today in the NYTimes as I sat on the porch and watched the neighbors float by on matching electric scooters while their mom filmed from her car, I read an article about how all this influencing can and does go wrong.  YIKES  I guess it is a warning!

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/08/30/magazine/greg-chism-youtube-bad-baby.html

August 28 Remember

I've been drafting a lead for hosting a poetry writing session later this year using (I think) Remember, by Joy Harjo. This draft is light years from my focus on nature and culture! This draft is written for someone who may have forgotten their worth. 

Remember, you are a product of their love,

Their dreams, hopes, wishes.

Remember their joy in their faces,

Your first steps, baseball, radio, car?

Remember the days spent practicing 

Pitching, creating, learning, sharing

Your gifts with others generously?

Remember the storms of life that pass

Leaving the earth scarred but persevering like

That rainbow that appears when hope wanes?

Remember, you gave them strong roots

Based on faith, family and perseverance,

Models of success and failure.

Remember every day we have the chance 

To make the world better,

Our legacy brighter. 

August 27: Not Yet Planned

Sometimes, on the train or in the coffee shop, I catch parts of conversations even when I don't mean to do so.  I think it is most likely to happen when a question is posed or a phrase is uttered that I have also pondered or am still pondering!  Like yesterday, when a young lady nearby uttered, "I used to have my life all planned out." 

With the gift of decades of experiences, I could have jumped into the conversation with gusto, but I stared and my book and let my mind wanders through murky memories and jagged turns in my path. I thought of how life looked pretty complete when I landed that teaching job, until I realized it was hard work. How lucky I was to have children until I realized those sleepless nights would precede teenage stuff.  I thought about the challenge of changing districts and learning all school districts had problems. I thought about losing those who guided my path to devastating illnesses. As life settled into what I thought was a more predictable pattern, an "earthquake" would shake up the family I had built.

I thought about how lucky I have been to have had a family and a career I adored. I am grateful that somewhere along the line I learned to accept those things I cannot change and to change what I can. I wanted to tell those younger ones that I still don't have my life planned out, but I am grateful for today!