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Category Archives: Education

#EchoesFromPastEra . . .I seek strength,…

via #EchoesFromPastEra . . .I seek strength,…

This is a beautiful Indigenous passage shared by Purple Rays. I have been thinking of deep ecology more the last few days and this poem reminded me of how I am not separate from the universe and others who share it with me.

Even in an urban setting, nature is immediate and surrounds me, providing context for my life. As I walk, I listen to birds, see squirrels, observe flora, and, sometimes, walk in the rain, as I did this morning.

How I live in nature and in relationship with others I can cleanse my hands and spirit, finding strenght and preparing for the next step in my journey.

I took this picture walking in the river valley, which divides Edmonton. The terns are always there during the spring, summer, and fall. When I walk on the path that is surrounded by trees, at this time of the year I smell how nature renews itself as trees shed their leaves and they are absorbed into the natural cycle.

Gulls at Neurotsis Inlet

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What Have I Learned so Far?

I enjoy Mary Oliver and questions she asks in her poems. Living is a question, as I am uncertain what will happen, even in the next second, and how I will respond/react.

How we each live is the answer to a Mary Oliver question from The Summer Day: Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Do I sow seeds of kindness? Do I somehow make the world a better place, without understanding what that means in advance, perhaps ever?

As I rise from meditation and prayer, I do I move in a mindful way, more attentive to my words and acts. Meditation and prayer help make the world holy, more whole as I attend to it. We each live Living in our particular concrete and real world of human relationships with each other and the world.

Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I
not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside,
looking into the shining world? Because, properly
attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion.
Can one be passionate about the just, the
ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit
to no labor in its cause? I don’t think so.

All summations have a beginning, all effect has a
story, all kindness begins with the sown seed.
Thought buds toward radiance. The gospel of
light is the crossroads of — indolence, or action.

Be ignited, or be gone.

Silently Blooming

via Silently Blooming

Shobna provides a beautiful images and Thich Nhat Hanh‘s quote about silence. Parker Palmer says that community and solitude form a paradox. They do not exist without one another.

It is in moments of solitude I find meaning in living in community. What I share in common with others far outweighs what makes me different although the differences are essential to what makes each of us unique beings.

It is in moments of silence I look at my life as if it were a mountain revealing its story through the striations it formed throughout its existence. In silence, my life takes on meaning. It is there that my relationships take form and mean more than they did in the busyness of the day.

Mountain's Layers

I Have Realities in My Past

via I Have Realities In My Past

One of the first classes I took in my doctoral journey introduced me to Viktor Frankl‘s work and finding meaning in one’s life, which is the primary reason we live.

In his post, Kevin shares a quote from “Man’s Search for Meaning.” We search for and discover meaning in ways unique to each of us. That search/quest is not someone else’s, even though there may be shared characteristics.

Frankl survived the horrors of Auschwitz believing his wife was alive, often hearing her speak to him. As it turned out, she died during her internment, but it was her daemon nature that gave him reasons to live and press on. Many of us would say our spouse/partner gives us reasons to live and that would be true, but it is in different ways than Frankl and others.

Differences make a difference.

Where Words Fails

via Where Words Fail

Thank you to Misifusa for this wonderful post.

I have not posted for some time. This seemed like a good way to begin again, afresh. When I was growing up, we listened to a wide variety of music, including Nat King Cole, Louis Armstrong, and Ella Fitzgerald. I thought it was the norm and grew into a die-hard blues fan, attending concerts by Willie Dixon, John Lee Hooker, and King Biscuit when they traveled to Canada.

As an adult, I saw BB King, John Mayall, Etta James, Ruthie Foster, Taj Mahal, The Blind Boys of Alabama, and others. An American friend told me this was not the norm in the US. He did not have the same opportunities to see these performers as I did or, if he did, it was long after they were in their primes.

The Hans Christian Anderson quote fits well “where words fail, music speaks”. Music breaks down barriers without realizing they are coming down. As a Canadian, I had freedoms I took-for-granted, like the music I listened to and the concerts I attended. When I taught, I played a wide variety of music each morning. It ranged from the blues to jazz to country to folk to old rock and to more contemporary music. Students enjoyed it and it surprised them when they heard me play old Johnny Cash, the blues, and rock-a-billy.

Music is colour-blind or, better yet, music is blind to colour.

I like this particular John Lee Hooker song, which I first heard in the early 1970’s. George Thorogood plays it in most of his concerts in tribute to John Lee. Enjoy.

 

Joining the Circus

Yesterday, this poem by Mark Nepo found me. I was checking some emails and a site I subscribe to had this poem on it.

For the first time in 30 years, I will not teach and/or learn in formal way this fall. It crept up on me. Yes, I want to teach. I prefer that to joining a circus. In a sense, I am joining the circus. The theme of the poem is how to deal with ups and downs in life. I applied at several universities and received one interview, but came up short.

My challenge is what will we I do in lieu of teaching in some conventional way? As Nepo says, I ready to kiss anything as I hover like a mystical molecule between one stage and another. Like the dozen beginners, I am learning how to juggle and have to begin somewhere.

Each day, I focus on reading and writing and hope to publish in academic journals.  A colleague suggested I write and shed a different light on teaching. As well, I may take some of my poetry and bundle it together in a book. Perhaps, my smile will be so magical I will asked to teach something I did not expect.

I just saw a handwritten note from

Galileo. He was under house arrest

for believing we’re not the center of

everything. Now behind me, in the park,

a dozen beginners, of all ages, learning how

to juggle. We have to start somewhere. The

young man who’s so magical at this is asked

to instruct. He smiles, “You have to keep

trying. Just not the same thing.” Earlier,

I leaned over a letter from Lincoln to a

dead soldier’s mother. This, just weeks

after losing Susan’s mother, sweet

Eleanor. I keep saying her name to

strangers. You see, we all have to

juggle joy and sorrow. Not to do it

well—we always drop something—but

when the up and down of life are

leaving one hand and not yet land-

ing in the other, then we glow, like

a mystical molecule hovering between

birth and death, ready to kiss anything.

 

The Great Paradox

As a teacher, I wonder how we keep children safe from themselves and, at the same time, not curbing their innate curiosity and imagination.

Pablo Picasso said “Every child is born an artist. The challenge is to remain an artist after you grow up.”

Albert Einstein stated “Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.

I am less concise, so I wrote a poem.

Born curious and imaginative,

Children do not have to be taught.

Yes, they can hurt themselves,

Ah, they need guides to walk with them,

Without inflicting greater harm.

The challenge lies in a question:

How do I guide them, without damaging them?

‘Tis a great paradox.

 

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