Daily Archives: May 21, 2013

The Road Not Taken

Posted on May 21, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

Several asked asked several times what I would do after the end of the school year. There is no set plan, but we spent a fair amount of time on the weekend beginning a website and some design of a logo for my next adventure. This is an opportunity to continue with several loves: learning, writing, and try make a difference, albeit a small one in the world. There is no certainty of where it takes us. Unlike the bureaucracies I tangled with my entire adult life, this is an opportunity to, as Robert Frost said, “take the road less traveled.” Where I go will not be planned out, but will be an opportunity to make a mark on the trail that others might find and follow.

I get to do this with Kathy. She is much sharper than I am when it comes to the details of a website, planning a logo, and setting the direction the first steps need to take. I get to combine a number of things I love deeply in this new adventure.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

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Posted in Education, Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, education, learning, Mindful Practice, poetry, Robert Frost, teacher as transformer, The Road not Taken, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

Sacrafice

Posted on May 21, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

This is a beautiful poem about the need to reach out daily, perhaps each moment, and lift those who need support. It is in the uplifting of another, much like a dance, that we uplift our self.

The Winter Bites My Bones

The beauty of ballet
is not found in the graceful plié
nor the elegance of a perfect glissade;
it is in the twisted, broken toes of the dancer;
the slipper full of blood.
The exquisiteness of life
is not in the gathering of fame and riches,
but rather, like the danseur lifting the ballerina,
it is found in the painful sacrifice of self
that lifts another heavenward
toward the dazzling stars.

The beauty of the butterfly
is not in the shimmering iridescence
of its painted wings in morning’s light
or the weightlessness of its flitting flight;
but in the awe-inspiring metamorphosis
from lowly caterpillar to winged god,
as it slowly struggles to survive beneath
the hungry beaks of a thousand birds.
Likewise, the magnificence of Man
is best reflected in the transformation
of the lonely individual
who, despite the darkness of the hour,
finds his wings and angelic cause
in…

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