Sunday’s Seven 4 Feb 24

Hello readers, and welcome to February. We get a bonus day this month. I haven’t decided what I’ll do with it yet, have you?

The week was fast and eventful. Grandkids swinging, testing out puddles, throwing rocks and noticing all the minute details of the natural world.

The eldest pumped her arm at the end of our country road as a truck driver passed by, and he rewarded her with air horn honks…and in that moment, I was transported to the same driveway many decades ago, being rewarded the same way. Little lights. Little efforts…

We have rock candy experiments “growing” in jars on my kitchen countertop. Little ones have to wait for a week to see the results. The smallest efforts, once again…

Garden center jonquils made their way to my arms this week…and

my daughter texted me a pic of one of my fave places : the Charles Bridge in Prague. Night scene. Lights on water. In that moment, transported to a past as well as future (hopefully) time. All the ways we get to be connected through space and time and memory and effort and kindnesses…

beauty…

Plastic baby Jesus has come out of storage, and has been coddled, sung to, and wrapped up these past few days. He’s really an outdoor manger piece, but these kids treat him like the real deal…

The geese are back. The birds are feeding this morning and filled with song…

Talismans. Those memory laden items or even attitudes we carry to sustain us during trying times. The week gave me a few trying moments, but was punctuated with high notes—much more good than trying. The sense of self we carry really does matter.

I noticed a lot this week. At a community meeting, a woman leader was summarizing content and asking questions, but at one point referred to herself as “stupid”…and my antenna went on high alert. People of the world, women of the world: we do not refer to ourselves as stupid. We may be learning, we may be relearning, we may be unsure; we are not, however, stupid.

I digress, I see. 😄

A former GED student came by “just to drop in” on his way to a college comp class. Those moments of realization: knowing you helped make a difference for someone…but also knowing no one succeeds alone. ✅

The week also gave me a watercolor workshop and time with old and new friends. And later today, some special young adults have arranged their schedules to keep up a tradition we established years ago. 🔔

Some good words to end (or start, I guess 😉) the week:

“The last of human freedoms – the ability to choose one’s attitude in a given set of circumstances.”~~Viktor E. Frankl 🌟🌟🌟

✌️

Sunday’s Seven 3 Sept 2023

I think I’ll talk about the passage of time…

I heard from a student this week. She was a second grader in my first classroom 39 years ago. She’s gone on to make a career for herself as a nurse, and she’s living a good life. She decided to track me down (one of the few good reasons I can list for social media) and sent me a message to see if I was the Miss Sorsby she knew in 1984. I was. Still am to a degree. ❤️

We had a lengthy conversation through the app, and she recalled sweet and funny memories. Just know there’s a student you have impacted. I’ve been looking for you for YEARS. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

And, that, ladies and gentlemen, is an example of why some teachers continue for as long as they can. Thank you, Ebonie. Of all the things she mentioned, none of them were about curriculum. Teaching, I think, is really about the ongoing conversation we have with another…one that extends far beyond a single school year.

Anyway, it was definitely an uplift after a fairly long week…one that brought prank calls and a brief lockdown to our town’s schools. A week where I looked around once again and realized a lot of people really are unaware about all the roles a teacher plays.

But, as they say, time moves on and sometimes we are lucky that pranks are only pranks and nothing more. I’m not sure I can list that as one of my seven, but I’ll leave it here.

Onward to other days where grands were happy to see me in the school pickup line. Stories and comments shared that make me wonder if one day they will be tracking down their own former teachers.

Hugs, of course, make the list. And air kisses from Clara to her faraway aunt Rara…the mention of her name always brings that sweet response. And, how beautiful is that…to know a small child is sending powerful energy to another—-so often—-how rich to be a recipient of that kind of love.

The week brought special mail from afar and surprise flowers from a sweet loved one…people remembering a day 35 years ago when I said I do to a dear man who left us too soon. He left behind good people, and I celebrate the many days we shared…and am glad that others still realize that love transcends time. There’s a whole absence and presence philosophy that really does make itself known through time. ❤️

I’m not at a paralyzing grieving stage these days, and so that also makes this week’s seven good things. Life has been good to me for many seasons, and I fully recognize what a gift that is.

It doesn’t feel like 110 these first September days, so I’m also glad to say farewell to August, which seemed to hang around for far too long.

I feel like I’ve abandoned the passage of time theme haha…but that’s ok. I’m here. Grateful for this Sunday evening and a brisket to cook in the morning after a no alarm wake up. I’m grateful for the upcoming day off and paint to swipe onto a canvas, books to read, projects to work on, and the luxury of deciding who-what-when-where.

Happy Labor Day weekend to my USA friends.

✌️

Butterfly in the Sun by ej sparkles

Sunday’s Seven 20 August 23

Ah, a Sunday in August. School is back in session for some of us…others have a few more days of freedom. I witnessed a bit of the “first days behind the scenes” this week as my youngest granddaughter started school, and I’ll start with this: thank you, experienced teachers. Teachers who greet with a smile, extend a hand, place a new book dedicated to a child in a backpack, arrive and teach/mentor/model/, often with no expression of gratitude. Thank you for caring for our most precious ones. Thank you to those who give their all and then go home to children of their own. If we can give nothing else to our educators, let us give them the respect they deserve.

Maybe I should keep with a school theme, but I’ve been noticing flight this week—how some of us still stop when we see an airplane above us—why? Maybe in awe of the miracle and science of it…maybe to bless its going forth…maybe to say soon…regardless, noticing the wonders of the sky can be a special practice.

Three granddaughters gathered ‘round my back-porch table and noticed other fancies of flight: the ever present hummingbirds, dancing monarchs, double egrets one morning, and of course, cardinals. So, gratitude for noticing. How rich to see, and to see that others see, too.

Other goodnesses: little hands waiting for and giving pink polish manicures…💅🏼

Other hands guiding a sister with a water play toy…and my own inner hesitation to bring yet another mess forward was silenced by my thoughts of water dries. Kids grow up. Let them play in peace. Relative peace. 😅

Next up was a foray into fake snow making—and I must admit that baking soda and a drop of water occupied some little hands for a good while. ❄️

Grateful for a house where children play and learn and wonder. Grateful for their jokes and insights and my food one calls slow food (versus fast because even that gets old sometimes). 😉

I’ll end with that landed text from a loved one. Grateful for safe travels and adult children who are thoughtful enough to let moms know all is well. That’s a lot. 🛬

Blessings for your new week. I’ll be greeting new students to college classes midweek, and I’m sure there will be stories and insights ahead. ✌️

Double egrets mid flight

Sunday’s Seven May 7 2023

Teacher Appreciation Week is upon us in the USA. I am grateful for some really good ones.

Mrs. Day

Mrs. Healen

Mrs. Taliaferro

Mrs. Frost

Dr. Mazer

Dr. Davis

Dr. Hargus

Some are no longer with us, and some I’ve lost touch with through the years, but I can recall a moment with each one. Not a lesson, not a technique, not a grade. A moment. A relationship. Deep respect.

Consider reaching out to someone who has taught you and made a positive impact on your life. Let them know you remember. 🌟

Sunday’s Seven: 29 January 2023

Seven reminiscences this time, I think. I never know for sure until I sit here to begin. What gifts has the week prior given me? How many ways do all the crossings connect? ❤️…

Well, last week one of my students wrote to the poet Jan Gray. She liked his poem “Ghazal of Oranges” and set out to find some answers to questions she had. He answered her (not a small thing in this big world), and when I tell you it meant something, it really did. This student has a new view now of literature and poetry and humanity because of her action to discover and his action to reply.

Then, I shared the same poem at my GED class and asked a new student to read it. She agreed, but hesitated at first. She kept going, and at the end, looked up and said, You couldn’t have known, but his first line stopped me. My father died on New Year’s Eve…he, too, loved oranges. I felt his presence all around me as I read this out loud.

I told those students about the poet and my other student…how they will likely continue to communicate through emails now, this unexpected pairing. How odd and beautiful the world can be.

At the end of class, I asked this group to jot down their strengths, any areas they hope for help, anything they want me to know. I do this with different groups because all will not speak freely in a new class with strangers present, but they will usually respond in writing. As I leafed through the set, one student wrote a thank you note to me…a student who only shows up when his work life permits, when he can get there on his motorcycle. He encouraged me, turning the tables and reminding me that how we show up is as important as what we bring. We all just need to hear a kind and encouraging word sometimes…it means a lot to me and I’m sure to the others.

Teachers sometimes hear from the community or parents of students , but when we hear from students, it’s deeper and somehow truer to our ears.

So, all this to say: the value of words. Poems. People trying and succeeding in making meaning. All of us crisscrossing through the world connecting like beautiful threads.

This is counting as seven paragraphs haha…didn’t plan that either, but somehow think it works.

There were other precious moments during the week—saving some like a spool of thread, ready to unwind when needed.

As we enter February, I hope you find ways to express yourself to others—no sincere effort is ever wasted and only transforms into more good.

✍🏼 🖊️ ❤️

Sunday’s Seven: 11 December 2022 /Joy

Week 3 of Advent greets us today. Its theme is joy.

Week 3: the rose candle. Joy. (framed art by Dean Lynn)

How do we find joy in this world? Well, we open our eyes and acknowledge the longing of our hearts. Then, we act upon that longing and joy arrives (or reminds us she was with us all along).

As we wait for an infant to appear in the cradle, it might be easy to get distracted because of all the things that pull us away from the meaning of the season.

Everything seems sped up in December. The clock seems to tick faster. But, we can choose to step apart. Even for a few minutes…

This week, I hope you will step apart from the hustle bustle for a moment. Remind yourself what you love about the season. Or, if that’s too hard, what would you like to love? Desiring is enough.

A student told me this week that she had no traditions to recall. No one arranged joy for her as she was growing up. No one set that stage.

That led me to think about all the small ways we might attempt to bring joy to others, not just in this season, but all year.

Seven ways I found joy this week—-some was given to me; some I decided to go find…

A baby boy hollering oohloo oohloo when I came by—I was still out of sight, but he heard my voice and I heard his. 🌟

A class full of exuberant high schoolers on our college campus posing for pics at a park nearby and reading their original sonnets as they stood in front of white lit trees…the park service gave us the backdrop and we took full advantage. 🌟

Wearing the fancy Christmas boots my cousin gifted me years ago…so many smiles and laughs and happy moments associated with those boots—-proof again that one effort leads to so many connections. This season, the security guard at my school was overcome with joy upon seeing those explosion of Christmas boots. See? People on the search…give them something to see. 🌟

A college student’s pencil scrawled note at the bottom of a paper: Thank you from the bottom of my heart. ( I will keep that one for so many reasons…) 🌟

Red berries and pine and the walk that led me to Christmases past and a deep gratitude for all the ways people in my life have made efforts in front of me. 🌟

A gift bought and wrapped by a granddaughter with strict directions to place it under my tree until Dec 25 🌟

Finding myself in the small town of Hope, AR meandering in and out of antique shops. Looking at the beautifully decorated window displays, realizing I was singing carols…because the stage was set for me. Someone decided to make arrangements for joy to arrive. 🌟

The student I mentioned earlier? She had listened as a young mother was excitedly talking about traditions and plans for making a happy day for her 9 year old (even after two tragic family losses recently). She told us I want that kind of joy in my life. I missed out on all of that.

And we told her it is never too late. Create the joy you want for yourself. Defend it. Be quiet and ask your heart what it needs. Act on it.

Maybe it’s a new strand of lights. Maybe, like for me, it’s walking down country roads looking for pine and holly and winterberries. It is realizing I love that time because someone did it for me or in front of me for years and years, before I even realized it was joy in disguise.

It is knowing once you have it, you desire it again. And, you will find it when you decide it’s time. And, you know, but joy is not happiness. Joy has nothing to do with circumstances. It lives in us, and even when we feel or seem as empty as that cradle, we know there is a space and we know what it can hold. ❤️

If you reading this are/were lucky enough to have someone in your life who tried to create joy or an atmosphere for it for you, I hope your heart knows it. I hope it is the envelope in your heart’s file that you reach for and all light spills out for you this season. 🌟

Sunday’s Seven: 9/25/2022

Well, dear readers,

Some might sigh while others will celebrate the fact that we are three months away from Christmas Day. 🎄 I’m in the celebrate it camp.

A friend posted a beautiful photograph of red berries this week from a walk, and said she was brought to think of me and my love for the holiday. She’s christened me Mother Christmas, and what an uplift that was…to receive such a lovely new nickname and to be thought of when in the beauty of nature.

Thank you, Care.

I’m sure a lot of us often think of others in our journeys as well. Let them know this week. Remind them that our absence is illusion: we are present with others when we call them to our mind’s eye.

I’ve been flipping through a beautiful book my daughter gifted me last Christmas…it’s filled with photos from all of the holidays I’ve been a grandmother. So many sweet memories to look back upon in sequence. All the love that was present then and still continues…and will always carry on, as love does. As good things do.

Lists are in progress, traditions to continue are bubbling up as the busy workdays pass. Things to look forward to and care about are real gifts in a world that wants us to focus on hard and busy and tragic and chaos. My heart has room for holiday thoughts, and I am immensely glad.

Other goodnesses this week:

Spider lilies in bloom along the driveway edge

Two dragonflies with golden wings hovering in front of me in between classes on a university parking lot this busy week

The place where pomegranates should be once the shipments start coming in…I wait all year…the stocker said this week 🌟

And one more gift of an observation from an Adult Ed student: You are unique abnormal. Some might be offended; I felt it was true praise. I don’t want to be conventional, haha.

Maybe it was because I was on the floor creating a butcher paper poem with black marker. I’d left the normalcy of what so many students get accustomed to, and I’d returned to core principles that work and bring me peace: old school words on paper.

I’d been inspired by a conversation and recalled a poem that related…so I did what all good teachers do—grabbed the moment and created a memory.

I find that most of us know what to do a lot of the time. We stop ourselves for various reasons. This week, let’s push on through with the idea, the new routine, the timeline that makes sense to us.

If the intention is good, success will follow.

I didn’t count, but I bet that’s at least seven.

Here’s to you: go into the world and be you this week. ❤️

Sunday’s Seven 8/28/22

Saw a rainbow this week —always amazed…

Watched several dragonflies on morning and evening walks …

Celebrated that clearance cart full of struggling flowers I bought recently… saved just in time and now flourishing after recent rains 🧚🏼‍♂️

Youngest granddaughter celebrated a birthday …

Early bedtimes early wake-ups—ask any teacher. They know what August is like…blessed rest is 🙌🏼…

Classes started and those first days are a blur but it’s a happy blur …

I’ll end with the best answer I’ve ever received to this ice breaker question (chosen from a list of about a dozen, but new adult student wanted to answer this one) : What would you buy with an extra $100?

“Glitter.”

Imagine a classroom full of adult students who laughed and wanted to know more and listened as she explained how she loves glitter and sequins and would bedazzle every item in her house if she could. She left us smiling at the end of a Friday afternoon. She made us want to know more. A very good way to end week one.

Have a good new week. Add some sparkle where you can. It’s never too late. ✨ ✨ ❇️

Sunday’s Seven 1/23/2022

Hello, dear readers, it’s been a busy week that began with fielding emails about students on quarantine and/or with Covid. Then, the word of the season —pivot— where we change teaching plans, locations, platforms. Or we don’t change anything at all. Throw in a second job on the other side of a state line, and the rules change. One college requires masks; one does not. Here we are in America. Not on the same page. Still, good came in many forms, and I’m here to write seven moments of it.

I think the context of the time is important, and that is why I bring it up. We each walk a path and live in the reality of a world that has commonalities, but in so many minuscule and major ways, we live entirely different lives.

A glimpse into some good of mine:

A college student who greeted me with Ok, Ms. T…we are ready to talk about this story. It was not dry at all. 😉 And then they talked. And thought. And analyzed. And shared connections. And I thought while standing in front of them how grateful I was to witness another group of readers and thinkers making their way and knowing most of them will be transformed by literature. They will find their voices and use them. 🌟

A different campus/class with adult GED students and their concern for each other. How small a thing to tell someone You can do this because here you are doing it and seeing another sit up a little straighter or picking up the pen to try again. We move people with our words far more often than we might know.

Presence with a dear relative while she goes through the hard work of deciding what to keep and what to let go. When people allow us to accompany them through fragile spaces, it is a holy gift.

Texts of the same rainbow from two different women who looked up and saw it as gift and then shared it…the power in knowing a gift shared is purest good.

Technology that allowed a traditional goal setting party we call Goalsmas to take place across several time zones. From Texas to New York to Prague laughter rang out and bells in an assortment of modes clanged as we reviewed the past year and look ahead to what surely, surely will be better. The young people that keep that tradition with me and the addition of another member this year. The gathering. Making time for good. 🔔

Finding a long lost handwritten recipe that is in my father’s handwriting. I knew it was here somewhere, but as I cleaned another cabinet out this week, it appeared. Pencil on faded paper. This time, I’ll frame it. ❤️

Attending a textile class online with my daughter and then sharing our process and progress. So much good comes from creativity—just the decision to act helps bring forth new ideas and ways of looking at things. Plus, gathering materials reminded me of lots of projects waiting in the wings. 🧚🏼‍♀️

The new week is beginning the same as the prior one: emails are dinging with lots of students notifying me of a Covid quarantine, diagnosis, and/or the “not sure what but feeling bad” message. So, here we go…we are still in this. Please keep your guard up.

Stay safe.

Look for the bright and beautiful. Share it with someone else. 🌈

Friends who text rainbows 1/2

Friends who text rainbows 2/2

Friday’s Five: 10/22/2021

This past week, I celebrated the National Day on Writing with a couple of classes of college writers. That decision gives me way more than five good things for this post, so here we go:

Young adults exploring the natural world —some sitting and noticing, some standing, some taking advantage of the playground swings in the nearby park we visited, some sketching. All deeply engaged in the moments.

In answer to my question of what was the best part of writing outside, one student’s answer, “Peace…it’s just so quiet.” Yes.

Other words: “We all walked out of those front doors together, all of us —with all our differences— and we became united…and we were free.” Wow.

We are writing sonnets now, and the work we do is influenced by that short time apart from the daily classroom. We draw from the solo classroom of attention. I hope they’ll return there as often as they can. I really think they will. 🌟

The simplicity of teaching and learning…some things really are like poet Mary Oliver told us:

“Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”