Spring Break 2020

This spring break is like none other in my lifetime. The weekend before spring break officially began, the college where I work decided to suspend face-to-face classes in light of the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic sweeping the globe. Even though I knew it was coming, it is a devastating development. I teach both online and face-to-face, and not only do I prefer face-to-face, but it is also better for those students who choose it. On top of that, we had to cancel all college events, including graduation. Moreover, Americans have been advised to remain home as much as possible, to practice “social distancing,” and to wash our hands often. So, schools have closed, social events have been postponed or cancelled, bars and nightclubs have closed, many restaurants have closed, even some dental offices have closed, our community pool has closed, and now beach parking and/or some beaches have been closed. This has all happened in China first, then Europe, and now here. The world shut down.

As humans, we are programmed with fight or flight, and I have been “fighting” in terms of preparing for survival with trips to Publix and Target as well as online ordering. I haven’t taken an ungodly amount of food or necessities like cold medication and toilet paper (like some have fought to do); however, I have prepared for a two-month shut down. I pray that it doesn’t come, but because I have been listening to primary sources from China, Italy, Spain, and France, I want to be prepared for the worst. Because of being hyper aware right now, every day feels like a week. And, I am dealing with additional grief because, with all of this “fighting,” I want so much to be able to call my mom and talk to her about it, to hear her say that I’ll be okay. Or, I want to have the option to go to her house and shelter in place where she would be well stocked from living on the family farm. As it is, I cannot imagine being home alone for weeks, let alone months. To not see others in person, to not be blessed with hugs and smiles. If it comes to that, how will I manage it?!

While Americans are focused on the pandemic on all social media rather than politics and other typical topics, people are still on opposing sides: those who believe it’s all just a hype or hoax or conspiracy versus those who are preparing for Armageddon and obeying the new regulations that come every day, every hour. And those two sides are still butting heads: those who mock the other side for preparing versus those who rail at anyone not following the new guidelines.

This is all unprecedented and such a historic time in our country and world. All of this—the headlines about what is happening in the rest of the world, now in the United States, as well as preparing for the pandemic and seeing our country still so divided—has been stressful and traumatic and exhausting. 

The exchange students are being sent back home, and in fact, all over the world, people are being recalled to their country of origin. Everything is at a standstill as everyone is going home. Because my Italian student had not yet visited Sebastian Inlet, we went there yesterday, taking a short time in the midst of this chaos for some spring break fun and fresh air, though we made sure to obey the mandates to maintain distance from others and wash our hands after touching something. Per normal, I took photos and documented the occasion, sharing it on Facebook, and I sensed some judgment or chastisement from some FB friends. Perhaps the comments were not meant that way, but this is an added stressor after an attempt to decompress, unwind, relax. And the comments were perhaps not even meant for me, but instead for those spring break party goers who congregated at the beach like sardines in a tin can, ruining it for all of us. After three days of crowded beaches in Brevard County, our beach parking is being shut down. According to the news, by tomorrow morning, we will not be able to park at the beaches.

Therefore, today, I went back to the beach. While there were too many people there, at least they were all staying in small groups away from each other. I stayed far away from others, but I was able to take a long walk on the beach. It could be my last walk at the beach for the foreseeable future. As I breathed in the salty air and heard the call of the seagulls, I felt the weight of the past few weeks fall away. I turned my mind to gratitude. Deprivation is something that brings focus and clarity, and right now, I still have much to be grateful for. I’m grateful for the sunshine that touches my face and skin. I’m grateful for the roar of the ocean waves as they kiss the shore. I’m grateful for my health and the security of being able to work online and still have money to pay bills. I’m grateful for my daughters and their health. I’m grateful for my family and friends and their health and thankful that we will be able to stay in touch through smartphones and social media. I appreciate the humorous pandemic posts and memes that have helped me find laughter this week, and I appreciate that social media can be a source of connection and comfort during this time. I am blessed and privileged to be able to prepare and stock up, and I’m thankful for my cats who are in this with me. I’m grateful for the acts of kindness that I have witnessed and read about this week. I’m grateful for nature and its calming effect. And, I’m grateful for God and my faith in Him.   

The World Is Too Much With Us

Dear UD,

Around 1802, William Wordsworth wrote “the world is too much with us” partly to express how overwhelming everything feels sometimes and partly in criticism of how the Industrial Revolution led people towards a life consumed with material things and work and away from nature and the spiritual life. How little could anyone imagine back then how he got it so right.

In the past couple of weeks, the Eastern Puma has become extinct, and the last Northern White male Rhino has died while giraffes have gone on the endangered species list. I can't imagine a world without these creatures in it.

On another level, in meetings and emails and news headlines and social media posts, I see hatred and violence and tyranny working its way through our country. It angers and frightens me.

Also, I keep reading or hearing about too many people dying suddenly for no reason too young. That is sad and scary.

And I'm grading research papers where too many college students do not know how to write a clear sentence or how to follow directions or how to think critically enough to write a focused thesis statement or how to slow down for a moment to get it right. It worries me for the next generation—not only the world we leave them but the lack of skills we leave them with.

Uncle David, it's your birthday month and almost exactly one month from the day I received the call three years ago, the call that you were gone from this world, the call that shattered my world. Three years and I still miss you so much. Sometimes the ache of the loss is too much. But that's personal. And selfish. Because I wouldn't want you to see this horrible world right now. But I still want you here, and I still need you and still miss you. Three years ago, yet in this moment the loss feels too fresh all over again.

So I start a letter because I want to tell you all about it. Because I know you were so full of love that you would still see some good in the world right now.

It's spring, and I remember that you would be outside hunting for buds and feeding birds and walking your dogs and delighting in spring bulbs and flowers.

I have a 12-hour day of classes and grading. But tomorrow, I promise to go outside and sit in nature for a little while. And I will gaze in wonder at the beauty around me. Let it fill me up so that I might go out with kindness and some joy and be a blessing to others, like you were to so many.

Love, Rach

Cultivating Creativity

 Travel and tell no one,

live a true love story and tell no one,

live happily and tell no one,

people ruin beautiful things.

~Khalil Gibran

            The day I received my first cell phone in the mail it became indispensable. I remember that day more than what life was like before. Before cell phones, before social media, before smart phones and smart TVs. Yet I lived the first thirty some years of my life without a cell phone or smart device. How can a decade of post-modern living almost obliterate a way of life?

            It was late summer of 2006, and I lived in Kansas City, Missouri where I homeschooled my two daughters, Lexi and Laina, then ages eleven and eight. Excited for our first camping trip with our homeschool group, we packed and loaded the car. Our group planned to meet at a Hyvee parking lot to caravan to the campground 30 miles outside of St. Louis. Normally, I would have printed off directions to the state park; however, since we were following others, I thought there was no need. I didn’t even write down the name of the place. The day we were scheduled to leave, my Samsung flip phone arrived in the mail. While I decided it would be cool to have a phone and many of my friends had recently acquired one, it was more of an afterthought at that time. I went ahead and set it up so that I would have it if needed. Just in case of an emergency.

            Lexi, Laina, and I sang on the drive, following Jen the whole way until we reached the town just outside of the state park. While driving through the town, somehow, I started following the wrong car and missed the entrance to the park. There I was in a strange place with my two daughters and no one I knew in sight. Dusk approached, and as I pulled into a parking lot to call Jen with my brand-new cell phone, I wondered what I would have done without it? How did I survive thirty years without that convenience? Luckily, I had her phone number, and we were just a few minutes from the entrance of Dr. Edmund A. Babler Memorial State Park. Soon, we arrived at the campsite and began to set up our tent next to our homeschooling friends. From that day on, my cell phone has been in my pocket, purse, or hand. Almost always close by. Something that I can’t, now, imagine living without.

In my earlier twenties, I lived in Germany for a year. Before kids, before daily email, before cell phones, before GPS systems, I moved to a country whose language I did not know with only one person around that I did know. Yet somehow, I navigated the streets of Augsburg and  Berlin. I made friends, found a job, learned a new language, took photos, and traveled in Europe…all without a cell phone. I only called my family a few times that year, though did write and mail letters every week. A mere ten years later, I discovered life with a cell phone. Now, I cannot imagine sending my twenty-year-old daughter off to a college that's hours away let alone to Europe without a cell phone, without a way to contact me if needed. How did this change our lives so much in such a short time?!

            Lexi received her first cell phone for her thirteenth birthday as a fun gift, an electronic toy. However, we gave one to Laina when she was ten because she was going away for a week-long gymnastics camp and I wanted her to have a lifeline. I have only had a handful of Samsung phones, using them until forced to upgrade because something broke.

            Earlier last year, I needed to upgrade but wasn’t allowed to because of my plan, so I bought my first smart phone from Craigslist. Again, the instant I had it, I couldn’t imagine life without it.

After being a loyal T-Mobile customer for ten years despite their connection problems and lack of customer curtesy, I switched to Verizon last summer; T-Mobile screwed me over for the last time, and since the option was available, for the first time in my life, I have the newest smart phone. I bought the Samsung Edge 7 while Lexi and Laina received the new iPhone 7. I first got the Note 7 and had to return it because of the recall based on explosions! Then, the screen messed up on the first Edge 7 I had. I don’t like having the newest, most expensive phone because it’s too much pressure and stress. I’m holding $800 in my hand, and if it breaks or falls in water, I’m screwed. Plus, I’m finding that the newest phones have kinks that are still being ironed out, and the time and trouble it takes to call and return one phone for another is annoying. And, it seems like everything is made to break down these days. Six months in and Laina dropped her iPhone, and we had to pay close to $200 to fix it.

Recent surveys show that 70% of Americans own a cell phone, and within ten weeks of purchase, approximately 45% damage their new phones in some way. Most shockingly, over five billion dollars has been spent on fixing iPhones. It sounds like many Americans can relate to my frustrations.  

“It is through technology, not despite it, that LSD visions were realized. Leary called the personal computer “the LSD of the 1990s.” And in a 2006 report in Wired magazine, many early computer pioneers are said to have been users of LSD. Steve Jobs, Apple’s presiding genius, described his own LSD experience as “one of the two or three most important things” he has done in his life. So here it is — a world in which we all do more than just inhale. It is through the iPod that, in Leary’s once contentious words, we turn on, tune in and drop out.” ~Edward Rothstein in “A Mind-Altering Drug Altered a Culture as Well” published on May 5, 2008 in The New York Times

Now, it’s April of 2017, and I’m tired. Tired of the exposure it allows into my life, the responsibility it places on us, and the distractions that it holds. Tired is such an infinitesimal word to describe it, though. I’m exhausted, or in other words, over stimulated, over stressed, overwhelmed, lonely, and depressed. From what others have shared, I don’t think I’m alone in this. My smart phone provides 24-hour access to social media, news, emails, and games, and it took spring break for me to realize that I don’t take time to think anymore and can no longer be creative, sit in silence, simply be. These things take time, space, and cultivation. Otherwise, we lose them. I’m remembering that it takes practice and commitment, that creativity and thinking are habits of the mind that we must choose to foster.

How did I come to focus on this? First, I’ve been bored with Facebook for a while and considering taking a break from it. My girls will be thrilled, having encouraged me to do so many times in the recent past, but I admit that I’m addicted. For instance, endlessly, we are sharing a meal we made or a new restaurant we are trying or our thousandth photo of a pet or child or selfie. Or, the most recent headlines ding in with tragedy and horror. Or people are posting fights over politics or religion. No matter what, there is always another notification to check out. Every morning, I check social media first. Throughout the day, I check in, especially when a notification pops up, and let’s face it…when is there not a new notification. Every evening, the last thing I do, even after brushing my teeth, is check social media and/or play Candy Crush or Words with Friends. Through this smart phone, the constant TV shows, and relentless advertising and news media, I am never alone even when I’m alone. These days, my thoughts are rarely my own.

Continuously our minds receive images, words, ideas. Incessantly, we are bombarded by violence, threats, danger in our community/city/state/country/world, photoshopped images of what we should look like, ads of what we should buy or what we should eat, sex, alcohol, prescription drugs, major headlines, fake news, and the list goes on. My mind never gets a break from input unless I am sleeping. And all the while, I’m either checking in or thinking, What if I miss something? What if something important happens on social media? What will I DO if I’m not checking in off and on all day every day?

And even when with family or friends, too often everyone has their phone right at their fingertips. Even if we put them aside for a meal or game or conversation, we must check in, we’re worried that someone might need us, or we want to post our activity. And all the while, we’re either checking in or thinking, even if only subconsciously, What if something happens to my kids and they need me? What if I forget to post this? What would we DO without our smart phones in the palms of our hands?

Yes, we do have freewill and choice. Just because we’re connected to the “grid” doesn’t mean we must look. Or does it? How much of this is habit or even programming versus choice?
What happened to long afternoons of conversation and games? What happened to enjoying an activity without the need to broadcast it? Why do we feel such a need to over share the details and photos of our lives? What would life be like without social media and smart phones? Is it too late to return to that way of life?

I teach composition and critical thinking at a local college, so I know that writing and thinking take time. As writing instructors, we lament that our students won’t put down their cell phones, that they refuse to take the time to write and think; however, are we modeling those important habits? Lack of process, lack of critical thinking, lack of time for these things…Is this simply a symptom of post-modern day life in this new digital world or is it a choice, a habit. Or all of the above? Even if it is partly a choice, how are we to teach and live in this brave new world without embracing the new technological advancements? There are positives to consider. For instance, the opportunities for connection, knowledge, and convenience, as well as a platform for being heard and using our voices and creativity. How do we embrace electronic devices without losing what is important for process and thinking, for creativity and product, for self? How are we to balance both? Is it possible? What would a balanced life look like in this fast-paced, information-loaded society?

And what about the body? I started exercising again this spring—swimming, walking on the treadmill, lifting weights. I used to love doing these things partly because of the time it gave me to think and daydream, but now I only want to work out if there’s someone to talk to or something to watch during the process. Additionally, I used to drive in the car and listen to music which offered me time for thinking and daydreaming, but now I only want to talk to someone or check social media at stoplights. Am I losing my ability to be alone with my own thoughts, to sit in silence, to create, to dream?

Maybe it’s partly the rough political climate and probably partially the losses we’ve endured the past three years in my extended family. I still hadn’t written anything new, until now, since my uncle died two years ago this month (except for the letters that I wrote to him during the first year of grieving). 

When you let go, you create space

for better things to enter your life.

~quote from recent Facebook post

Now that I realize all of this, I choose to cultivate creativity, to make space for silence, to actively develop daydreaming. I choose to create habits in my life that will foster my creativity and critical thinking.

Step one: Take a break from social media.  For thirty days in June, I am going to take a break from my accounts and uninstall them from my cell phone. Even writing this right now seems scary. How will I get my fix? But who knows. I may like it. Maybe I will go longer or deactivate or delete them completely, but for now, I’m limiting my social media time to a short time in the afternoons or evenings. I’m putting a stop to allowing the ping of a notification to control me and attempting to find balance again, to provide time and space for creativity and thinking. How will I like it?! I won’t know until after the experience, but once I begin, if you need to reach me, you can call or text me. Also, I invite you to follow my blog as I may post there: http://aheartthatblesses.blogspot.com/.

Step two: Make a list of activities in the real world that make me happy and choose something from the list to do every week. Go on adventures that fuel my heart and soul. Like spend time in nature, read more books, snorkel a coral reef, swim in a waterfall, have deep conversations with friends, howl at the moon, glide on a sailboat, hike in a rainforest, or climb to the top of a lighthouse. Some of these I can experience here where I live while others are on my bucket list, something I hope to travel to and do someday.

Step three: Keep exercising. But put down the phone and stay in the moment.

Step four: Start each day by praying, reading a devotion, and writing morning pages.

Step five: End each day by writing in a gratitude journal to focus appreciation on the blessings in my life.

Step six: Spend time outside every day. Get fresh air and sunshine.

Step seven: Connect with people in my life away from the screen. 

Hope….that is the feeling fluttering inside, something that I haven’t experienced in a long time. Hope that I will find happiness again. Hope that my heart will blossom again. Hope that spring will come for me again. That I will enjoy something for its own sake rather than focus on posting it. That I can be excited about something again. 

How is your life different with a cell phone? With a smart phone? Are you addicted to social media? Are you worried about your children and teens and their use of smart phones?  Have you found a way to balance living with smart devices so that they don't overpower your life? I would love to hear your experience and tips. 

Corybantic Enervation*

God sidetracked by damn internet. And on Lent, too.

All those lost souls searching, crying out for help. For His strength.
40 days is forever. Hell, day one is an eternity all its own.
Ohhhh, look at that recipe for Southern Strawberry Shortcake on Pinterest. Gotta try it.
Shit. Today’s Ash Wednesday.
Day One: No sugar. No grains.
What the hell was I thinking?
No Facebook for some, but God’s updating His cover photo
while some student, “idiot” as Chris would say, texts while skateboarding on campus,
crashing into another student, a tangle of falling limbs and bodies. Bruised. Bloody.
Maybe the guardian angels are all on MySpace. Took it over when humanity abandoned it.
The teens transferred to Instagram. All image, less words, less connection, less thinking.
Sounds like my student essays minus the images, the imagination;
I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve written “lack of depth, details, drive”
in the past few years. “I wanna be a billionaire, so freaking bad.”
Loving my new smart phone and all the cool apps.
Gross! Why the hell do people post pictures of broken bones, open wounds, swollen feet?
Maybe posting is prayer in the 21^st century. Government, God watching over us.
Never alone. Yet always lonely.
Ping. Jessica already has roast simmering in the crock pot for tonight’s meal.
Wish I’d have thought of that. Hmmm…what to cook for dinner.
Wow! Beautiful picture of the beach—blue skies, blue-green waves, roaring against sand—
definitely not like those crazy superstorm waves that obliterated buildings, land, people.

Emerson, I think we've forgotten how to

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." Or perhaps it’s too dangerous now.

Franklin cautioned us against trading our liberty for security,
but he never watched an airplane fly into the twin towers—
collapsing skyscrapers, crumbling faith of a nation—
or imagined bodies dropping down 100 stories on American soil
or dreamed of mass school shootings.
Do we deserve to sacrifice both freedom and safety, Mr. Franklin?
Maybe that’s why we rush to the doctor, begging for more, pleading for pills—
pills for our sleep and for our kids, pills for our anxiety, pills for perfection or peace—
rather than fall on our knees for answers, for hope, rather than sacrifice this for that.
Another crazy gunman. My daughter’s school locked down. Third bomb threat on news this week.
I wonder if God would accept my friend request. Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.
The world is at my fingertips; everything only a quick touch away, and yet. And yet. And yet.
Nostalgic for a past that I don’t know, for a time I have not met—a time where food was food and chemicals were poison and books were books and options were not numerous.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.” Rumi
Cyberspace is so happening. Never shuts down, never stops, always running, always, always.
Oops. Class starts in ten minutes. Gotta run.

 

Written on March 5, 2014

 

*Corybantic: frenzied; agitated; unrestrained.

*Enervation: to deprive of force or strength; destroy the vigor of; weaken. Synonyms: enfeeble, debilitate, sap, exhaust.

A CHANGED HEART: Newton Ulysses Crawford, Jr. aka Dad aka Gaffer

“You can love someone so much...

But you can never love people as much

as you can miss them.” ~John Green

          Newton Ulysses Crawford, Jr. was born on March 1, 1948 in Port Hueneme, California. An only child and navy brat, Newton was an international traveler, growing up in exotic locations around the world such as Malta, Japan, Florida, Virginia, and Rhode Island. He was a creative, talented, and intelligent man who could play anything on the piano after hearing it just once.

In the early 70s, he met and married Barbara Ann Cunningham. Always wanting a big family, they soon had four kids, and they moved from place to place in search of work and a place to belong. For a time, they settled in Kansas City where they attended Baptist Temple. 

A round of layoffs at TWA airline in the 70s warranted a move back to Newton’s roots in Cabool, Missouri where he moved his growing family to a white house on a hill of the family farm next to his parent’s white house, both houses built by former generations of Crawfords. For over 150 years, Crawfords have owned, lived, and worked that land.

After a series of jobs as a laborer and a brush with death due to a misdiagnosed case of Rocky Mountain spotted fever, he returned to college and pursued a degree in history at University of Missouri in Rolla. He earned a Master’s degree at Missouri State University and even completed all classes towards a doctorate at University of Missouri in Columbia. With ‘all but dissertation’ credentials, he was able to teach history at various colleges in the vicinity of his home, including Central Texas College, East Central College, Missouri State University in West Plains, and Columbia College. During his 20 plus years of teaching college students, he won Teacher of the Year Award five times.

He also took up running and walking. Tracking his miles daily, he often went a thousand miles a year. After years of running, he realized that he had run enough miles to circumnavigate the equator, and he threw a party to celebrate running Around the World.

Newton had the large family that he always wanted with ten children and twenty grandchildren. He often passed out sweet treats to his grandkids; he recently gave them each a silver dollar from his childhood collection.

With a smile, he recently announced, “I know I have arrived because I have three things: a country club membership, a Cadillac, and a lava lamp.” He was also proud of owning a bulldog that he named Winston after Churchhill, the leader of Great Britain during World War II.

I remember made-up stories of little girls in the woods with bears, dogpiles on daddy, quizzes on literature and art at the dinner table every evening at six o’clock sharp, lists of vocabulary words, detective or road movies, discussions on history and philosophy, fishing at the river or pond, hot summer days of bailing hay on the farm, readings of Eliot’s poetry—“the Rum Tug Tugger is a Curious Cat”— an eclectic array of songs floating through the house, daily pushups, the family singing “Do You Hear What I Hear” as Dad played the piano, and games of Bridge, Pitch, and Cribbage.

Art, music, literature. Literature, music, art. Words, words, words. Every day, all day, he soaked up words as he read at least three books a week—something religious, historical, and light (usually a mystery or detective story). Near his spot at the end of the hand carved, wooden table, Newton always kept an unabridged copy of Webster’s dictionary, and he was a genius with words, holding the title of having the largest working vocabulary. He also had an almost photographic memory.

Newton was both brilliant and eccentric. His traditional garb as a professor was a sports coat over a buttoned down dress shirt, pants, and cowboy boots. When home, he routinely wore shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops with socks. Newton had an extensive collection of hats, including a fedora, Derby, The Panama, baseball cap, cowboy hat, and tweed or leather driving cap.

Newton lived a life of curiosity and inquiry, always studying, learning, exploring, and researching. His example taught his children to live with open minds and inquisitive spirits.

Near the end of his life, he showed his family the blessing of miracles through a changed heart that revealed a sensitive and sweet spirit, the power of forgiveness, the importance of healing relationships, and the significance of an intimate relationship with God.

As Peter Gabriel sings in “Biko,” “You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire. Once the flame begins to catch, the wind will blow it higher.” Newton Ulysses Crawford, Jr. has inspired two generations who will always love him and remember him and who will hand down the lessons and love to future generations.

A beloved father and grandfather, an honored professor, a blessed husband, he leaves a legacy of family, of love of literature, art, music, inquiry, and of justice and kindness towards fellow humans.

Letters written by Dad:

January 2001

Dear Children,

I simply must describe the view outside my window. Last night the ice storm brought peril and discomfort, but today’s visual delight actually overcompensates for any storm-related discomfiture…and fills me with a sense of ineffable wonder. Outside…like a barely-recalled print by Currier and Ives…a remarkably transcendent vision. The gray and overcast sky provides a stark contrast to the glistening and translucent wintry landscape. No cows; they are off seeking more basic pleasure in the river bottom…just birds foraging, near the feeder…jays, cardinals, and a pileated woodpecker…skipping about and eating their fill, full of natural gaiety…perhaps not knowing that God provides for the fowls of the air. But what transforms the vignette from an idyllic pastoral scene to an aesthetic marvel is the ice…the crystalline perfection of a bejeweled lattice hanging in front of my window…refracting the faint crepuscular light, and refining it into a landscape that would have defied Michelangelo. Tree branches, heavy laden with a thick coating of ice, bent unnaturally into different shapes, as if they were praying…the Chinese Elm outside my window lowering her branches for me…so I might see the vision of resplendent loveliness, the ground covered with a white carpet that on close inspection proves to be granular sleet…but from my perspective looks like an even field of snow rising in the distance and terminated by a line of trees, which provide a barren backdrop…but in the foreground, the trees around the house look like nature’s necklace, like diamond-coated skeletons frozen in mid-frame while they waltz. Just now, as twilight approaches, a single ray of sunlight penetrates the clouds and illuminates the scene, permeating it with a roseate glow…enlightening the primal wonder of nature, and sending a tendril of joy to my soul. As that last shaft of light descends from heaven, the ice explodes in dizzying resplendence, a cascade of colors beyond the spectrum. Words usually serve me well, but they are inadequate to describe this unutterably lovely tableau…absolutely beyond description and incomprehensibly beautiful…Truly Awesome…But I am reminded that there is one thing that rivals the staggering beauty of nature…only one thing…And that is the solitary human heart…pulsing out its rhythmic tattoo…beating steadily…for the ones it loves.

Dad

March 1, 2001

Dear Children

I think all of us tend to look back on our lives on our birthdays, and solitary reflection is good for the soul…summoning tendrils of sadness and regret…but bringing also joy and the quiet contentment that comes with remembrance of things past. On this day I feel doubly blessed to have lived and loved, and I wanted to share an epiphany that intruded forcibly…bringing the greatest birthday gift imaginable...an ineffable sense of wondrous awe. Hovering always at the periphery of conscious thought is the blessed awareness of the people I love, my fellow traveler through this vale of tears. But this morning, in pensive solitude…I felt you all as a powerful presence…as a celestial choir singing the Happy Birthday song…I truly felt you all as if physically present…our hearts thrumming a delicate refrain of indescribable loveliness. And I thought that there is great beauty in this imperfect world…the indescribably sublime wonders of nature…the unutterable beauty of song…Willie Nelson singing “Always on my Mind”…the baroque counterpoint of Bach…The Winged Victory of Samothrace standing in Majestic grace after 23 centuries…fragments of thought from other fellow travelers we have never met, snatches of incredible poetic utterance…”And the women come and go, Talking of Michelangelo”… fictional characters we feel we know, like Yossarion and stately, plump Buck Mulligan. But shining above all of this with effulgent brightness is the blessed assurance that Love is the one thing that makes life worthwhile. I think there is a certain amount of wisdom that comes naturally as we age and mature, and I think walking for a year in the shadow of darkness has helped me see a great light…like Saul on the road to Damascus…I see how we are transported by love to any earthly paradise beyond description…that love for intimates, affection for friends, and good will towards everybody…redeems our tenuous lives and makes our transient pilgrimage significant. For above all else, I am assured that our love is a pearl of great price, a solitary Rose blooming in a wasteland. I love you, Honey.

Dad

Heart of the Matter

The more I know, the less I understand
And all the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my heart is so shattered
But I think it's about forgiveness

~ India Arie’s “The Heart of the Matter”

I’ve watched friend after friend (writing friends who are also writing teachers, adjuncts) thrown away by their educational institutions in callous and even shocking ways. I’ve felt blessed to continue receiving enough classes to make ends meet (by enough, I mean overloads, as many classes as I could find). Unfortunately, I’ve discovered this semester that my time of overflowing classes is at an end. I haven’t been thrown away like some stories I’ve heard, but I’ve been told in no uncertain terms from the various institutions that I work for that I can no longer have overloads, no matter what (partly because of lower enrollment and partly so that they don't have to pay adjuncts health insurance).

Even with working at more than one institution, this change necessitates changes in our living situation.

Another change in our life has overshadowed everything for the past year: Lexi going off to college. I haven’t written about it because I’m not ready, but the bottom line is this: I am thrilled for Lexi to have the opportunity to live and study in NYC. Yes, I realize that it is a normal and natural cycle of life for her to go off to college and move on with her life, and I support her and let her fly. However, it has changed everything for me and for Laina. It’s like someone came into our home and sucked out a huge chunk of life and energy and who we were. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through, and we are still reeling from it and working to adjust.

Furthermore, I am rethinking my career path. I’ve taught for over twenty years and have loved it. I’ve taught people from all over the world and people of all ages. I have a high standard in my classroom, which means that I challenge my students to see, learn, and be more. Not all of them like that. In fact, nowadays most of them hate that.

Recent feedback from a student (printed with permission): “I am almost ashamed to admit that this exercise has left me feeling maudlin.  There are actual tears in my eyes.  I feel like I have wasted so much of my life with unimportant work and petty concerns when what I should have been doing is writing.  I am mortified by my own lack of discipline and I can only hope that it is not too late for me to accomplish something I can be proud to say I have done.  This semester has been the most fulfilling bit of education in my life, despite the fact that I already have an AA degree.  My attitude has always been never to let school get in the way of my education because ninety-nine percent of the drivel I sat through in college felt like remedial classes for high school.  I just seemed to reap more from independently reading on my own.  At first, I found this class daunting.  You want a lot of time and effort from your students, much more than most instructors at this institution.  I am sure that does not sit well with some of your pupils, but I appreciate it greatly.  Thank you.“

Words and students like this make teaching so worthwhile. The thought of giving up teaching breaks my heart; however, the whole climate has changed for educators, even for college instructors, and I have been looking for full-time work for five years now.

Moreover, my high standard also means tons of work for me. This semester alone I have read over one thousand pages of student essays and many more pages of simple assignments along the way (both online and on paper). All of that reading and helping students with their writing interferes with my own writing and creativity. This past month (while in NYC and away from the computer, away from a screen, for most of two weeks), I realized just how much strain my eyes and brain have been under. The crux: I am exhausted and need a real break while I reevaluate and decide where to go from here.

Furthermore, my dad has recently gone on hospice. Again, not something that I am ready to write about because I still have so much processing to do. But, I want to spend time with him and be there for family right now.

Coming to Florida was definitely the right thing five years ago. We have met so many amazing people here and been blessed in so many ways. We have healed and grown and learned so much here, and we have had so many incredible opportunities.

 

Florida 2014

Florida 2009

I am deeply grateful for the friendships and support that we have found here. Words cannot express how much you all mean to me and how you have blessed our hearts and lives with your kindness and love.

I’ve prayed for clarity and answers, and I’ve written hundreds of pages of journal entries the past few months as I sorted out options and the pros and cons of everything. As I processed it all, a few simple truths emerged.

Truth #1: Something has to change.

Truth #2: If I only do the same thing/ask for the same thing (piecing together a living), then I’ll just keep getting the same thing.

Truth #3: I am exhausted from piecing together a living.

Truth #4: We miss family.

I don’t have the answers yet, but I do have the beginnings of a plan. We are packing up this month and going to Missouri to be with my family for the holidays and a couple of months while I finish sorting things out. Transitions are hard, but this is still part of the whole divorce transition. I learned in Divorce Recovery that it generally takes five years after the divorce is officially final to be completely settled again. It’s been three years for me, and I know I’ve come a long way in those three years and am excited to see where the next couple of years take me.

Going through all of this (the divorce, the move away from everyone we knew, the fresh start, the longing for family, my dad’s illness and prognosis, etc.) has taught me so much about the kindness of others and the importance of forgiveness, of letting go. I’ll never forget words that my dad spoke to me over twenty years ago, when I was the one in college. He said, “When it comes down to it, all you’ve got it is your family.” Right now, that is the “heart of the matter,” and I am happy that Laina will have a chance, even for a few months, to be rooted in family, rooted on land that has been in our family for over a hundred years. Nothing can replace a foundation like that.

This is a bittersweet moment as we plan to leave friends who have become family here to go stay with family we have missed there. I don’t know where we will be by summer; we may settle into life in Missouri or return to life in Florida or even begin again some place new. Either way, I am ready for the next adventure.