Tag Archives: creativity

Dream Boogie

Stony Creek, where I taught for almost 15 years, was a special place. It does not exist other than in name only. It was a place where parents, students, and educators met and learned together. It was a place that defied the way ‘traditional schooling’ was done. The goal was to meet each child where they were in their learning and not force the child to fit the learning. For most of the time I was there, I taught and learned (those are not inseparable if we allow them to emerge together) in a way I could only dream possible. For those years, the dream was not deferred. It was real, but fragile as all dreams are.

I enjoy Langston Hughes and his wonderful poetry. Each year, I chose a poem or two from his wonderful writing and shared it with the students. I found that if I share my passion for learning and what excited me in my learning students and parents reciprocated. We lived and learned in community not in school. This is one of the poems I shared from that place.

Good morning, daddy!

Ain’t you heard

The boogie-woogie rumble

Of a dream deferred?

Listen closely:

You’ll hear their feet

Beating out and Beating out a —

You think

It’s a happy beat?

Listen to it closely:

Ain’t you heard

something underneath

like a —

What did I say?

Sure,

I’m happy!

Take it away!

Hey, pop!

Re-bop!

Mop!

Y-e-a-h!

Of High Solitude

When surrounded by the busyness of life, this poem is a call to other things where I find solitude. Wilfrid Wilson Gibson suggested the way the soul can find solitude in even the busiest of moments. I can look in and find those spaces even when they are not physically available. In those moments, I am present to those things and people who are most important in life. They are framed like a flower against the backdrop of majestic mountains.

Eagles and isles and uncompanioned peaks,

The self-reliant isolated things

Release my soul, embrangled in the stress

Of all days’ crass and cluttered business:

Release my soul in song, and give it wings;

And even when the traffic roars and rings,

With senses stunned and beaten deaf and blind,

My soul withdraws into itself, and seeks

The peaks and isles and eagles of the mind.

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Mindful Attitude

As I move into the New Year, this poem resonated. Being more mindful, allows me to be aware of the needed balance between passion and compassion. Life has a way of revealing a path when I am patient and open to multiple possibilities.

A mindful attitude–

Seek to choose well

Blend fiery passion

With compassion’s loving kindness.

Let life’s fruit mature;

Ripen deeply

Nurture life’s fully.

A spiritual banquet nourishes

Deepest meanings revealed

I Respond to life’s bounty.

Assume responsibility

For one’s self

For each other.

Welcome the world

Understand–

With childlike wonder

Become one;

Become whole

Transform the self.

At the Threshold

A colleague of mine, Laura Kinkead wrote this beautiful poem which is appropriate for this time of the year. As we await the New Year, there is a feeling of being at the threshold. It is a time to reflect on what and who is important in our lives as we enter the New Year.

The poem is a reminder that what brought me to this point serves to ground me. It is the people and things that have expressed their love in many ways that allow me to find moments of solace, abundance, and opportunities to linger as I cross each new threshold. I am gently reminded to listen to the soft voice from within that reminds me of the richness of life.

Summer’s abundance within me

and Winter’s rest ahead of me,

I linger

At the threshold,

What beckons me, pulls me forward,

calls deeply,

longingly,

What little voice reminds of what has come before

What do I gather up, too precious to part with,

And what do I leave behind

glad to rest beneath the soil

to become the rich humus of tomorrow

I stand with the the sun’s warmth upon my face

as the wind pulls another leaf slowly to the ground

 

Invictus

Life is a spiritual event. Those people and things we love inspire us to keep our heads up and our souls unconquerable. William Ernest Henley provided us with wonderful words that echo this way of understanding life and its relationships.

Apparently, this was Nelson Mandela’s favourite poem. When I read it, I understand what made it important in his life and what it reveals about leadership.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Dharma

The way the world and the universe are in order is something we take for granted in daily life. We overlook the ordinary, but there is importance layered in the ordinary. It is here we find the extraordinary. We come and go and, when we pay attention, so much is revealed about the world and the way we help create it.

Billy Collins shared a common, everyday way to examine the patterns of life, the Dharma of the world we live with all the time by examining a dog and the way she lives life without worrying about life.

The way the dog trots out the front door
every morning
without a hat or an umbrella,
without any money
or the keys to her dog house
never fails to fill the saucer of my heart
with milky admiration.

Who provides a finer example
of a life without encumbrance—
Thoreau in his curtainless hut
with a single plate, a single spoon?
Ghandi with his staff and his holy diapers?

Off she goes into the material world
with nothing but her brown coat
and her modest blue collar,
following only her wet nose,
the twin portals of her steady breathing,
followed only by the plume of her tail.

If only she did not shove the cat aside
every morning
and eat all his food
what a model of self-containment she would be,
what a paragon of earthly detachment.
If only she were not so eager
for a rub behind the ears,
so acrobatic in her welcomes,
if only I were not her god.

Children

This is my first Christmas not teaching, but I think of what it means to be in the classroom frequently and the impact adults have on children. Children are nature’s gift. They are the future and need to be nurtured and cherished in that respect. Christmas is a time we can remember the gifts we sometimes take for granted for the rest of the year. It is a time to pause and recall the reason for the season. It was a particularly important gift brought to us in the form of a child that we can see and understand in the form of our children.

Children–

Nature’s gift;

Craft and hone–

Appreciate their future;

Nurture and cherish–

Under watchful gaze mature,

Cradled in loving community.

Elders shepherd;

Care and tend–

A most precious flock

Share wise words

Open hearts

Act prudently

Generous, ceaseless, joyful work

 

The Contract: A Word From the Led

We often think of leadership from the perspective of the person in charge. What about those who follow? What does it mean to be led by a particular person? I find, at times, that I get in a hurry to lead and forget to listen which is such an important part of leadership.

William Ayot provided this insightful poem which offers advice for the leader through the eyes of the follower. Leadership is about serving and mindfulness which intersect with integrity.

And in the end we follow them –

not because we are paid,

not because we might see some advantage,

not because of the things they have accomplished,

not even because of the dreams they dream

but simply because of who they are:

the man, the woman, the leader, the boss,

standing up there when the wave hits the rock,

passing out faith and confidence like life jackets,

knowing the currents, holding the doubts,

imagining the delights and terrors of every landfall;

captain, pirate, and parent by turns,

the bearer of our countless hopes and expectations,

We give them our trust. We give them our effort.

What we ask in return is that they stay true.

Self Discovery

As I wander through life, I realize it is always a process of self discovery and accepting imperfection that is perfect in itself. It is all there and is real. It is not about finding something that is ideal,but accepting that which is. That makes life worth whiling over.

Discover self–

Imperfect, unrefined;

Genuine, real–

Not hidden;

Unvarnished, vulnerable.

Happiness appears;

Refuge

Falsehoods recede–

Ever so slowly,

Spirit wakens–

Revitalized and awake.

The Old Poets of China

I am back including my posts. Mary Oliver wrote this beautiful and short poem which points out the need for quiet time. I  accomplished a lot during my break. I flew home twice and am back in Edmonton for Christmas. I spent the time away from the blog completing the course work and getting ready for the next part of the journey: my dissertation writing.

Wherever I am, the world comes after me.

It offers me its busyness. It does not believe

that I do not want it. Now I understand

why the old poets of China went so far and high

into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.