I Remember Donnie & Troy

In honor of Memorial Day, I would like to pause and remember two men.

Desert Storm occurred while I was in high school.  This was before the social media storm and the 24 hour news cycle.  Yes, there was a CNN but, to the best of my memory, most of us had 3, 6, and 10.  Those of us with cable (or with friends that had cable) were more interested in MTV's Downtown Julie Brown than anchorman Bernard Shaw.

We were tasked with writing servicemen letters as part of our history class; however,  I started a long-lasting exchange with two soldiers, Donnie and Troy.  I remember one describing the desert sky at night and the other requesting that I not put my return address on the envelopes I sent for fear it would be intercepted and something threatening would be sent to me.

I do not know what happened to these gentlemen.  I chickened out of meeting one and the letter writing was lost to the rights of teen passage- dating, prom, graduation.  I do quietly and privately think of each of them, on Veterans Day and Memorial Day, hoping that the first occasion is a more appropriate remembrance.

I do not envision that these gentlemen are searching for me in the Google-Age but, if they ever do, I want them to know that as I enjoy my view, I say a quiet affirmation for their good health.  They are remembered.  And thanked.

What's Possible?

I don't know about you- I'm really good at playing the "But, What If?" game with myself.  I don't need any external factors to shoot down my dreams.  I do just fine on my own.  How did I learn this?  How do I unlearn this?

[DISCLAIMER: If you are under 18, call me "Mrs. BT," and happen upon this on a Google search- yes, you!- you are not my target audience for this post.  Kindly click your back arrow.  And...tuck in your shirt.]

I can't help but wonder what my mother wanted for me when I was born.  My best memories of our time together range from reading to impromptu dance parties; my dressing up as Wonder Woman and tying her up with my Lasso of Truth to raid the cookie jar; being allowed to shop for the groceries By Myself while she sat on a bench.  Would my mother have wanted me to have children?  Maybe.

I have children.  It's true that they are on loan to me for ten months, seven hours a day.  But, they are mine.  I take my charge to instruct them seriously.  Above that, I place keeping them safe.  And, above that, I hold teachable moments that integrate life lessons most precious.   I absolutely want them to learn how to infer and determine the central idea.  But, if they remember to slow down and consider the impact of their words on themselves and others, then...Huzzah!  I'm overwhelmed sometimes by holding "What's possible?" for them in a container made out of care and lidded by reality.  I envision that lid is askew so dreams can pop out.

What would life be if I committed to playing the "What's possible?" game with myself?  I've been playing it a lot this year.  A change in assignment allowed me to explore what I WANT versus what I must DO.  The loss of my mother is still too fresh for me write about but these three gems are helping.  This change has really allowed for me to dare myself to dream about the future and all of the possibility it holds.  I've stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.  (It's reduced to a sock.)  I've made smart and safe decisions for so long- it's been a long road back to the kind of dreaming that existed when I played with Barbies and Easy Bake Ovens.

While I'm not looking to live out the life I imagined when I was 8 years old (very disappointed that I can't push a button and put my house in a briefcase), I'm thrilled to honor my teenage dream to write in whatever forum I can without my middle school pen name- Suzanna Skye.  (I know...awesome!)

Will I ever publish a book or pen a column?  Will I participate in space colonization?  Will I win a cooking contest?  Will I travel the world and provide coaching to those in need? Who knows!  I just know that I love asking the questions and not requiring myself to know the answers.  I'll know them when I look back at my life thirty years from now.  Gotta go- I've a lot to make myself wonder about in the future!

Guest Blogger: Welcome to the Universe, Kristin Weller!

I met Kristin years ago through Penn State Lehigh Valley Writing Project and it's been on like Donkey Kong ever since.  I was drawn to Kristin's reflective presence as an educator, writer, and friend.  Plus, she's wicked funny.  Her writing always touches my soul and this piece certainly helps me evaluate how I can work "being present" into my existing routines.  Enjoy!

When Heeling the Dog means Healing the Hurry

Green appeared like brush strokes on a dry canvas today. Cool dew replaced the iciness of morning frost. Birdsong lit up the morning before the sun rose. Springtime surrounds us with her hopeful cloak, whispering sweetly about possibility. 

Me? I’m lacing up my rock-trail shoes, pocketing a roll of blue bags, and loading up my dogs for the first of many weekly road trips. This’ll be year eight for me and Coda, and five for Ladybug.  We all crave the energy of fresh air and collaboration. Our training classes together are a meditation in motion. I spend most of the 45 minute drive trying to find center, to open up my senses, and to feel the present. Buggie sits in the back, alert, excited. She knows where we’re going. She communes with drivers behind me, while Coda curls into a kidney bean… which makes me wonder what they’re all thinking, and just like that, I’ve slid left of center.

It happens all the time. The demands of teaching in a high-pressure environment, of managing home maintenance, a marriage – an aging body. It fills up my mind to overflowing, causing flash-flooding in the wake of torrential planning. A woman’s mind is full of bees; if she’s quiet for too long, rest assured that she’s either trying to calm them, or whipping them up into a frenzy. 

To me, dog handling is the opposite of frenzy. The leash becomes an energy bridge connecting one to the other. The only way to be successful at it, to become a collaborative team, is to breathe, and be present. We warm up. “Heel,” left-foot first, the pack-walk starts. “Left-about,” and we spin to the back. “Right – and under-the-hurry,” we turn and jog in tandem. “Drop the leash,” and we all do. And just like that, the leash gone, yet the connection continues to flow.

I think meditation is heeling with a dog, because if you can walk in the moment, the moment becomes you. You keep moving, and it builds its own momentum, which, when unleashed,  continues to radiate through you into all that you touch. Like spring, it recharges and renews all parts of your being – even those that seemed shriveled as dried leaves. Happy Spring! I’m off to dog class.

Kristin Weller, teacher, writer, and book store enthusiast lives and works in the Lehigh Valley area. Kristin facilitates a local, adult writer’s group called Write Nights on the first and third Monday each month at 7PM at the Nazareth Center for the Arts 30 Belvidere Street, Nazareth PA. When she’s not writing, working, or tending to her home, Kristin meditates with her two boxer dogs through obedience and agility classes.  Click here to learn more about Write Nights.

Dear George Clooney

Dear George Clooney,

Congratulations on your engagement!  I wish you and your beloved nothing but the best.  CNN was kind enough to post an article telling us the most important things about your loved one.  If you agree with CNN's synopsis, I just wanted to bring your attention to my equally compelling qualifications.

1. "She's a well-respected attorney." I wanted to be an attorney.  Correction: I wanted to be the first female Supreme Court Chief Justice.  Or, astronaut.  I am a moderately-respected, mostly-tolerated teacher.  Pretty much the same thing.

2. "Clooney isn't the only one who finds her attractive."  

Many find me attractive.  I get lots of compliments at WaWa.  To be fair, they are silent compliments with stares.  You see, when I smile?  My eyes disappear and it looks like I only have eyebrows.  I attract attention.  I also attract vomit.  Baby vomit.  For some reason, they puke on me.  Could be the eyebrows...

3. "She's a world traveler."

I have a passport.  I've been to the Caribbean and Mexico.  I really want to travel and bring life coaching services to young women around the world...help them find their voices.  But, I'd settle for Epcot.  Plus, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White could use some support.  "What was it about the spindle or apple that was so important?"  "Where did you feel that in your body?"  I know that since they were in long term slumbers that they have had plenty of time to reflect on this.

4. "She's discreet."

Google my name.  I'll wait.  Do you SEE my name linked to any celebrities?  EXACTLY!  (Channing Tatum, Marky Mark, D.B. Woodside, Dominic Purcell, 90210's David Silver after graduation but before addiction, Carlos Bernard, Any of The Doctor Who Doctors- Tennant or Smith especially- pay attention!)   The article lists your bride-to-be as 36.  I have at least 30ish more months of discretion on her.  Do you know the name of my 6th grade boyfriend?  See!  We held hands roller skating and everything.

5. "Alamuddin must be special."

This is implied because you "had no desire to marry again."  I'm pretty special.  I have no desire to marry again.  Neither does my husband.  I tell my husband on a regular basis how happy he is to have married me.  

6. "Her co-workers are happy for her."

I imagine my co-workers would be happy for me.  There's the whole, "We get to meet George Clooney" pipe dream.  People want to know how Carol and Doug ended up.  And, shouldn't Alicia on The Good Wife get a cameo appearance from Doug?  Maybe he and Carol are suing their former hospital for [insert name of ER storyline here] and Alicia is representing them.  EMMY GOLD!  BTW- I get we wouldn't be able to invite my co-workers to our wedding.  Because of charity.  But, my husband?  He has to come.

Good luck, George Clooney!  To you and anyone else in my circle with an upcoming wedding- yes, you!  Remember, the wedding is a day, your marriage is for life.  Hold firm to the one you love.  If you have to punch paparazzi in the face to protect her, good job marrying a lawyer.  (Although, if you married a teacher, you'd be better off.  We'd provide you with alternative thinking strategies to punching someone in the face.  And, we'd be too busy grading papers for the paparazzi to notice us.) 

The Giver, The Getter, & The Gotter

Do you know people who are just great gift givers?

One of my friends gave me an awesome purple necklace.   Well, it's a wrap bracelet and I'm totally inept at fastening it, so I wear it as a necklace.  It's unique in presentation as one observant individual noted- "The beads' spacing is off."  Yes, it is.  It's a morse code bracelet!  The message is "Kindness is my religion."  The necklet (new word!) itself is funky but I doubt it was selected for me based upon color and unique concept alone.  This person KNEW me.  The fact that SHE selected THIS expression for ME brought us that much closer together.  Do you ever feel that you try and try and try but...no one sees you?  I felt seen.

Another friend gave me a "just because" gift.  She repurposed an empty glass jar of sour balls that I had given to her.  (To be clear, there were sour balls in them when I gave them to her.  But, I'm not bitter...)  The inside of the jar was sweet.  Notes.  Lots and lots of notes.  Morsels for me to chew on.  I was supposed to pull out one at a time, from time to time.  Nuh-uh!  Not me.  I poured them out like a waterfall of love and was moved to tears at their creativity.   Tonight, I randomly pulled out five.  The "..." are to maintain some mystery.  (Plus, I hope she will transform them into a feel good book.  And dedicate it to me.  Because.)

"Rock out to 'Mahna Mahna'...goofball."  "Stop on a random line of a favorite book...finish the thought any way you'd like."  "You are ahead of your time...forgive them."  "Write about it...for three minutes...You go now!"  "I love you.  That is all."

That is all?  Are you kidding me?  That's everything!  It's a jar of love.  Someone who knows me, someone who sees me, someone who gets me?  Do you ever feel like it would be so much better if someone just got you?

Two different gifts.  One purchased, one homemade.  One selected with intention.  One designed with it.  Both reflect with such clarity how much "got" I am.  (Yes, grammar police.  I get that ain't right.)  I can't help but wonder how the depth with which I get myself helped my friends to get me.  Kindness IS my practice and words ARE my passion.  A gift I hope to give myself is an openness to share them with others without fear of judgement.

It's wonderful for others to get me...but I've got to get myself if I want to be a great giver.

Cabin Pressure

“Life is 10% what you make it and 90% how you take it.”

~Irving Berlin

“Miss Malarkey, you shouldn’t bite your nails.”

~Random child from Testing Miss Malarkey by Judy Finchler 

(If you are already familiar with this fabulous book, check out this clever reenactment!)

Entering this season of The Test, I was determined to keep my cool, maintain my mellow, and take the random advice of the fictional child from above, the real wisdom of a sage one (“Miss- go home.  For your sanity!”), and a blogger who really understands the impact active monitoring can have on your psyche.  

Not invested in The Test?  That’s OK.  There must be something in your life that gives you pause- grocery shopping, emptying a dishwasher, commuting to work, presenting to your colleagues or clients.  Regardless of the task, our perspective impacts our reality.

I approached this as I do most things- with an inquiry.  “How do the skills honed in active monitoring better prepare me for the real world?”  It hit me hard on day 2- Flight Attendant.

Stay with me!

• When I walk the rows distributing mints, I am demonstrating the same stealth and grace as the flight crew when they distribute nuts, trail mix, or pretzels.  Even if you don’t see me approaching, I leave one behind for you for when you wake up from your nap.  Not nap!  Mental grazing!  I return to collect your trash in my ziplock bag with the same ninja-like skills, evading your eyes lest you think I am cuing you in anyway as I thank you for not littering.
• A goal of active monitoring is to ensure the correct section is being worked on and this must be done without absorbing the content.  Quick scan, correct section, move on!  Rinse, wash, repeat.  This transfers over very nicely to walking the aisle and ensuring your seatbelt is fashioned.  I don’t want to see what’s on your Kindle, if you are playing Words with Friends, or what websites you frequent.  Just a scan of the belt, please.  
• Speaking of electronic devices, I have mastered collecting them and ensuring they are turned off by fear of fine or having permission to search your photos if otherwise found on your person.  Yes...your photos.  On a plane, I will enforce that you turn off your electronic device until the captain says otherwise.  I don’t care if you are Alec Baldwin or what the dudes from MythBusters say.  Rules are rules!  I imagine I’ll be best friends with the sky marshal.  Don’t make me get her!  
• I’m awesome at group announcements.  “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign.  You are free to move about the cabin but we will purposefully hit a big pocket of turbulence in five minutes to remind you to be appreciative of your seatbelt.  In fact, don’t get up at all.  We just want you to feel like you have some semblance of control.”
• Answer bubbles must be completely filled in, dark, and not skipped.  There can be no stray marks.  Technically, there is nothing I can do about this one but on a plane, if my passengers are filling out paperwork for immigration, I can ensure that they fill in the correct information.  Can you image the chaos if they filled it in wrong?  “Sir, what’s the purpose of your visit?”  “Business.”  “Sir, you indicated pleasure on your paperwork.”  “I meant to say pleasure.  I used my flight points from my business to pay for my pleasure based trip.”  “Sir, are you saying you falsified your documents?  Security...”  Thank goodness I can help my passengers overlook an innocent mistake that could jeopardize their whole future.  I mean, vacation.
• I can spot a security violation a moment before it happens.  I can sense when someone’s eyeballs are going to look slightly to the left, to the right, up, down, or straight ahead.  I can tell the difference between a mouth opening to sneeze, yawn, burp, sigh, or bust out a lyric.  Before you can say sky marshal, I use proximity control to Shut That Down.  I run you a tissue before you even know you have to sneeze!  Ever been on a plane where the person in front of you is breathing too heavy?  I can stop that Before It Begins.  
• Reading directions out loud in front of a group is my thing.  On one day, the directions had approximately 900 words.  I read them as best as I could with focused attention but midway, in my brain, I asked, “Did I just read these words or am I talking about my grocery list?”  It’s important to communicate safety information to your passengers.  Did you hear about the rapping flight attendant?   He was well received and folks really paid attention.  Maybe I could jazz up testing directions...“Remember your pencils need to be style number two.  Erase all your stray marks, whatever you do.”  Maybe there’s a reason why they are 900 words long...
• In line to turn in my testing crate, sliding it along the table, waiting for the point person to sign off on my “ticket” and let me pass through security, I envy the powerhouse flight crew that whizzes by with their suitcases and stilettos.  They are like a mini army!  I’m tempted to put my shoes in my testing crate on the last day.  Tempted.
• Manners.  I have them.  “Can I go to my locker to get my sweater?”  Not until the captain turns off the seatbelt sign, I’m afraid.  “I don’t like this breakfast!”  I’m sorry but that’s all we are serving today.  Thank you for understanding.  “May I go to the bathroom?”  As soon as the other passenger returns.  I apologize that the drink cart is in your way.  “What does this word mean?”  I’m sorry, I can not assist you with that but if you turn to page 58 in your SkyMall magazine, you’ll see that we have a lovely garden gnome for sale.
• I’m all about test security and confidentiality.  Unlike these whistleblowers, I will keep my yap shut.  (Except for the coffee/tea drinking water thing.  Gross!)

I acknowledge the intent of accountability and appreciate the hard work of my colleagues who have organized and executed The Test.  As we come to the close of the season, let’s celebrate surviving and returning to the land of normalcy, where we hope the weather will be a balmy 40-70 degrees.  It’s all about perspective.  I may not be the pilot of the plane but I can work to keep my passengers content and comfortable in the cabin.  In the event of an emergency, I will put my oxygen mask on before helping others.  (Unless it’s an evacuation...then, I have to collect the tests first and secure them before we can run...)

Model contributed by “Boy” Friebolin (the young one, not the old one)

Bichovsky Backflash: ‘Tis the Season to be Writing

This piece was written as a reflection of leadership last year.  It’s in honor of a network that has provided me with a professional support system...and some of my closest friends.  Revisiting it warms my heart and reminds me to carve out time for what I value.

Moravian Book Shop.  Coffee and baked goods abound.  Pens moving, keys clacking.  The synergy was scintillating.  A variety of age, creed, and experience were brought together by the life-giving force of writing.

Eight lady Fellows were engaged in a Writing ‘Treat.  For one small moment, each had given themselves the gift of time.  Some wrote holiday letters.  Another, scene six in a book.  One penned a family welcome to a newborn.  What a gift writing was- for themselves and others.

The purpose was simple- fellowship.  The goal- to write!  And laugh!  And eat!  An unexpected outcome.  Another was in the shop that winter’s eve...

The Doctor was in to do some holiday shopping.  Startled to see several employees writing and exchanging professional ideas in their free time, The Doctor commended them on their dedication to their profession and craft.

And, thus a door was opened, exposing the value of what we all already knew to be true; We write to learn, we write to love, we write to laugh.  We write...For Life!

Learn more about Penn State Lehigh Valley Writing Project and consider our upcoming Best Practices Conference on April 5th, 2014.  LVWP is not just for “Writing” teachers.  Good company, great professional development, and inspiration around every corner.  And...did I mention that there will be cheesecake this year?  Cheesecake!