This has been such an up and down week. Full of emotions
and chaos and decisions. Fresh from last weekend’s retreat I was set and ready
to stay steady, calm, Zen really. All meditative. Life is what happens when you
are busy making other plans, for sure.
I am so grateful for the opportunity to have the retreat
with me still. The lessons I learned are in my heart, but it was hard to keep
all of that in my right mind throughout the week. I am reminded of my trip to
Italy. That trip changed my life, then, and forever. It is ingrained in my
heart, my memories, and in my soul. I had such life altering experiences, yet
when I came back, even before the dust and jet lag settled my mother died. I
could not properly reflect and revel in my experiences. So many people wanted
to know what happened along the way, each detail, sight seen, food tasted,
senses ignited, but it was hard to remember with any recall or any thought that
would mask the raw emotion of losing my mother. It was all lost for a while,
but eventually it came back and the details were as sweet as the actual memory
making was. Mom would have hated that, for sure, that delay in sharing. I know
how proud she was of me and my adventure. I know she knew how I came back so
much more healed and so much more ready to face my new life; I shared that with
her on the phone in our last conversation. It was all about new beginnings and
experiences.
The retreat was very much like that. A new beginning. New “tools” (although that
word really is so over used these days) to help me experience life and its
challenges. It was calm and restorative for me. There was not an overarching
theme for me. I set the intention of clearing the clutter of work, and shaking
off all the emotions absorbed through the end of the year traumas and dramas of
working in a Title 1, Renaissance school. Big emotions. Kids need routine,
structure, security, stability. These are basic functions required to live a
life that will thrive. These are things I took for granted as a child, and most
of the people I know did as well. Without these basic needs being met children
fail to thrive, fail to grow, fail to gain life skills needed to cope in the
world. They learn survival techniques. Smash and grab, in a way. So school, for
them, is often a haven they are not even aware of. They get two guaranteed
meals a day. They get attention – good or bad. They are cared for and loved,
even if they do not recognize it for what it is. It is undeniably understandable
that they dread the end of the year – facing two months off without stability,
meals, attention. All those fears come crashing in and their behaviors
escalate. On the last day of school when kids are normally so thrilled to be
off for two whole months, many kids at school are in hysterics, sobbing,
crying, worrying about the future and the summer, and all of those needs not
met come crashing back in on them.
My wish and desire for the
retreat was to get rid of all that pent up angst absorbed from those last few
weeks. And it worked. I was calm and quiet all weekend; meditative and
reflective. It was amazing. I was a bit off kilter when I got home; just sort
of a culture shock kind of thing, for lack of a better word. The quiet and calm
of the woods and the retreat were amazing. My house is quiet and wonderful, but
it has a different feel. I got back late in the afternoon Monday and went to
work Tuesday morning. There was a lot of chaos at work; the wireless was out;
the electrician was there. There was a lot to be done, and I did not get it all
done, despite my best efforts. I had to leave to take my car back to the shop
and it was raining. Bad vibes after the car dealer, then trying to plan my
summer trip turned into a huge effort. I lost my Zen for sure. Wednesday was a
little better, but I was without my car until they gave me a rental so I could get
to work the next day – which ended up my last day, thank goodness! It’s just been
a week, and I am glad today is Saturday and it is all behind me.
I am on a train. Train travel
is pretty fun, I think. There are some very strange people on trains – even more
so than airports. There is an older woman sitting kitty-corner from me; she
reminds me a bit of Doreen from my book group. There are a bunch of other folks
on the train; all ages and walks of life. A group of kids just came walking through
trailing a gentleman; dad, chaperone? It is hard to tell. A very strange kind
of scary character came huffing through the car a little while ago. He was
moaning and groaning, talking to himself. He threw his bag in the bin overhead,
settled in and starting moaning. The woman turned her head and we both locked
eyes and raised our eyebrows. I have been afraid to look behind me, but it appears
that last moan took him back where he came from to a different car – or maybe
off the train, because he was a lot scary.
The train is taking me to Columbia to visit my sister DeLaine for
this next week. It is such an inexpensive way to travel, and I am rather taken
with it, especially after last summer’s Syracuse to Toledo adventure. The seats
are roomy, I have two to myself. The leg rests are awesome, the windows huge.
The tray table pulls down and slides forward. Right now we are stopped in
Kissimmee, so the lack of swaying is good. Typing as the train moves is a
little like the movie Contact. Remember when Jodie Foster was in the pod
getting ready to take off after they built the time travel pod? It was shaking
and rattling her teeth as the machine counted down? That is train typing. It is
kind of amusing.
I am on the road to getting my Zen back tonight. I am on
the train all night; it is a 10 hour ride, and we left about 40 minutes ago, so
I have a lot longer to go. But it is good. I have a book, I have water, I have
my red pashmina and a pillow. And I am on vacation, on my way to see my sister.
Next week the wind will blow me north to New York to see my family, with
further talk of a visit to Acadia in Maine. I am feeling relaxed and refreshed. Namaste.
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