teach.run.pray.

Being more transparent and vulnerable is something I've been working on along with finding humor in life. I've always been pretty good with deep reflective thinking and conversations, however, I've never been good at them in the context of a relationship in which I have to reveal feelings I'm not totally comfortable with, or when I'm not sure how my honest feelings are going to be interpreted, or when I think the other person may get upset.  And, when I say intimate relationships, it refers to any relationship that consists of love, honesty, and sincerity, which could be a relationship with a spouse, a friend, a sibling, a student, or a brief encounter with a stranger.   I'm speaking of intimacy in terms of the heart and soul, not  in terms of physicality. So, in these intimate situations, I tend to withhold my thoughts and emotions and withholding is not usually the best thing to do because withholding means I'm not being honest. And, let's face it, if ...

Over the past year or so, I've been working on rediscovering my faith, finetuning my beliefs, living in the moment, and being patient. I've been fairly successful, and with all good things, they are a work in progress. During this faith, belief, present, patient process, I've made a stark observation. I've let go of the fun and the humor in life. I find myself being serious and reflective pretty much 100% of the time. I've gotten so focused on the seriousness of life that I've turned my back on the humor. And, we all know, laughter is good for the soul, so if I'm doing soul work, I should be laughing a lot more. Instead, I'm laughing a lot less. My husband often teases me and tells me I don't know how to laugh or take a joke anymore. And, though, I know he's teasing, it strikes this very sensitive chord inside me. I try to smile or giggle off the comment, or I try to be sarcastic about it, but the problem is I actually feel like I don't kno...

The past couple of Thursdays, I've been going to a free outdoor yoga class. All summer, I had wanted to try the class but never had anyone to go with me, so I always forfeited my decision to go. After attending it, I hate I waited so long to go. And, I hate that I allowed alone-ness to be my excuse for not going. It's a really good class, and I'm learning yoga is a practice I need to start adding to my daily routine. Two Thursdays ago, I attended this outdoor class for the first time. It was almost exactly two weeks after my step dad's passing and life had started to slow down to normal again. At the beginning of yoga class, you set an intention for your practice. My intention was to release pent-up aggression to allow absorption of love. I needed positive energy so I could get back to spreading the love. During this hour-long practice, with at least 40 other strangers, there were poses that struck emotional cords within my core. I had to withhold tears a few times....

Alcoholism. Domestic abuse. Jail. Racism. Murder. Single parenting. Poverty. Infidelity. Being a child left alone to speak with cops because the adults fled to the woods. Deadly car accident. Felon. Drug addiction. Borderline personality disorder/bipolar. Divorce. Threats. Bank robbery. Death of a father, brother, sister, step-father, friends, ex-boyfriend, grandparents. All of those words describe life problems. Life problems I've witnessed. I've lived. Those words are only a portion of what my mom has conquered and lived through. Those words are only a handful of problems my immediate family has faced. The list gets WAY longer when I add in problems extended family, like my cousins, have faced. My own life experiences are enough for an Emmy winning drama, but when you add my extended family, boy oh boy, you've got years and years of dramatic material. People always say every family has that "one." Well, our families have had those "few." I'm su...

It's week four of the new school year. Long, long hours have been spent in the school building planning lessons, preparing materials, organizing, mentoring, and everything in between. However, I'm not complaining.  Last year, I was complaining a tremendous amount...all year long. My main complaint was about the number of students on my caseload and the nearly impossible schedule. But, I'm not complaining about that this year, because I was allowed a much-needed change. I'll leave those complaints to the new resource teachers. I didn't realize just how much my job, as a resource teacher, was impacting my health and well being until these last few weeks. I have more energy going into work each day than I've ever had. I enjoy every second of my job. It's a breath of fresh air. So, I'm not complaining. The first Friday of September fifth graders had their first house meeting. All of our fifth graders were randomly selected and added to one of six houses....

Growing up, my mom took my brother and me to church pretty much every Sunday, and we prayed at church. My brother and I prayed before dinner when staying at my Mammie's house and at our great Granny's house. Our mom and extended family talked to us about prayer and how important it was. But, for some reason, there wasn't tons of prayer going on as a family in my house. I think it mostly had to do with my dad. He didn't like church or anything that went with it. Plus, he was an alcoholic, so he didn't think about praying as much as he thought about drinking. I remember my mom praying with us when we'd hear his drunken steps coming through the door in the middle of the night, but we didn't pray before dinner. Praying together as a family just wasn't something we did much. As I got older, I thought of prayer as something I was supposed to do as a Christian, but other than the praying I did as a child in church, or in my bedroom with my mom when we were sc...

Last Sunday, my dear friend, Allie, ran her longest distance ever, 10 miles, in preparation for her first half marathon on Labor Day weekend. We decided to run a half together, along with my friend (who also happens to be my cousin), in memory of Allie's father who passed away last October. To say it's an honor to go on this journey with Allie is an understatement.  She spent the night at my house on Saturday, and my husband and I treated her to a home cooked, healthy meal. We popped out of bed bright and early Sunday morning, and I helped Allie prepare for the 10 miler. She was a trooper too. She agreed to take the hilly 10 mile route rather than the flat 10 mile route, because we agreed it would be better training for Shenandoah.  We ate protein bars. We had our hydration water. We hit up the bathroom. We gathered our run nutrition. We stretched and warmed up our bodies. And, we hit the pavement. Thirty seconds jogging. Thirty seconds walking. We stuck to these thirty...