1. Who took naps as a kid? Who liked them?
2. Who takes naps now? Who likes them? The answers are pretty different from the first questions to the second questions. I remember, as kids, my sister and I were told we had to take a nap. I would lie there and fidget and sweat (in the summer SE Texas heat), and my mind would wander and wander and wander.....until finally, I would fall asleep just before Mother or Daddy would come in and tell us we could get up. Then, I would be so lethargic and not want to get up. Uggghhhhh.....the perils of naps. Today? I might very well take a nap. I am on my "reset sabbatical" to get healthy and strong again. Funny that last week was "Reset" and today is "Rest". I love words so much. Okay, back to naps. I have often told Dave I am so jealous of him. He can literally sit down on the couch and, within seconds (not minutes, folks, (and I promise I am not exaggerating)---seconds!), he will be asleep. I love a good nap, but most of the time, it takes a few minutes for me to settle down enough to get a nap going. Watching golf with Dave is a good way to induce a nap, but WOW! when it happens, I just love it! Our Episcopal priest, Father Jay, talked of Jesus sending the apostles into the wilderness. They had just come back from their "two-by-two" expedition, and they wanted to rest. Jesus sent them into the wilderness. What does the word "wilderness" conjure up for you? For me, it reminds me of the big Piney Woods of East Texas, the Appalachian Trail, Denali National Park, the Yukon Territory, and so many other places I've been and loved (and those I haven't been---maybe God hasn't "sent me" there yet). Father Jay said that if we go into these "wilderness" places, even though we think it might be restful, we have to be vigilant as there can be dangers in the wilderness (especially if we don't know what we are doing). It is in those times of being in the wilderness alone that we need to rely on God's help. What if a lightning storm begins on the Appalachian Trail? Should you get under the trees or out in the open? In the Yukon Territory, if you happen onto a moose or a bear, are you supposed to "look big" and make lots of noise or are you supposed to turn around and run? In the wilderness, I would not only have to rely on the skills I had been taught before I ventured there but I would need to rely on God. We may not go to Denali very often (if ever, but if you get the chance, take it, as it is SO beautiful!), but we do have our own "wilderness" places in our own lives during which time, we have to rely on God because we are not in charge. I definitely believe this happened to me during my recent stint in the hospital. I would be awakened by the vampires who must take my blood at 3:00 a.m. (really??), and I could go right back to sleep after that (but why, oh why, can't you take it out of an IV and quit poking needles in me?), but during the day, I would feel so lonely (God bless Dave----he came to the hospital as much as he could, but we have two Labs that needed his attention, as well, so he most certainly couldn't be there all the time) and scared (when will these antibiotics kick my infection? when will I get to go home?). While waiting for news from my doctor or waiting for the next IV drip to be changed or pain meds to be brought, I had to realize that God is definitely in charge. Imagine that in a vast hospital, in my room, there I can find and hold onto God! One of my favorite sayings is "I can't; God can; I'm going to let Him". It pretty much sums up what it feels like to truly rely on God so I can rest easy in His loving arms. When I try to take control, things go south pretty quickly. When I give it up to God, I can rest----even when I am in the wilderness. What is your wilderness? How do you navigate through it, even when it might be scary and you aren't sure whether to run from the bear or bang pots and pans at it. In those times, what are your go-to strategies? How do you find rest? I am grateful to have navigated some of my most recent wilderness, and I will continue to do so by relying on God and taking help when it is offered. But for now....I think I will take a nap. Happy Communicating, Shelly
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The summer is always my busiest time of year for work, especially since I do consulting, coaching, and professional development for school districts all over the world. Summer is the best time for administrators to get professional development, and August and September are the back-to-school months for teachers to get professional development.
So, I was ready to go....I've had quite a few work trips planned, particularly for July and August. Then, just like that, I needed surgery....not so much major surgery but one that required rest and a few limitations. I may or may not have crossed over a couple of limitations and found myself in my doctor's office, where she told me at 9:00 in the morning to not drink any more of my diet coke because she was going to find a place to perform an emergency surgery due to a pretty severe infection. The infection was a staph infection from an unknown source, and I ended up in the hospital (while they tried to find the right IV antibiotic) for 5 days. I still have much healing and a bit more surgery to do, but for now, I am out of the woods. My husband, Dave, who is adding jewels to his crown for Heaven, has been an amazing caregiver----helping me when I need it, making me laugh when I need it, reminding me to not project into the future when I need it, and getting me to walk and take my medications when I need it. I talked with God. I talked with Dave. I talked with my spiritual advisor. I talked with my dearest friends. All of them told me this: "You need to stop moving". In other words, I was told (it truly has felt a bit like an intervention) that I needed to quit focusing so much on work and other responsibilities in order to commence a "reset" on my physical and mental well-being. Just to be clear, I four organizations with whom I am employed (mutual clients and responsibilities in all of them), and I contact three of them over the next two days and said, "I'm unable to fulfill any work for the next several months, as I have to fulfill some work on me." Uggghhhhh.....anyone out there a workaholic? You must share my "Uggghhhh", then, as it was the most horrific thing I've had to do in a long time. Work is what I do. It defines me.....until it couldn't. My spiritual advisor reminded me that I am worthy without needing to collect a paycheck for a while. So, a reset, for me anyway, is a work in progress, and it is, indeed, progress, not perfection. You notice I said I contacted three of the four. I am still doing online teaching for one major university. It's great because even when Dave and I travel, I can do the online teaching and it only takes up part of my time. I am grateful to be teaching, as it "keeps me in the game", as so much of my work does. What am I going to do during this time? Rest, read, and "reset" are my three top priorities, in addition to do some work on my spiritual self. I know I haven't posted much, lately, but I will certainly be trying to keep in touch with my website and blog as often as I can. Just for today, consider how important our physical health is to any other type of health we have. If we are not physically healthy, all other "systems" tend to shut down. I'm blessed to have so many people who love and adore me and whom I love and adore right back! Take care, and God bless you! Shelly ![]() I have wanted to write a book with this title for WAY longer than I care to admit, and I still haven't done it, so here is the start....a blog about the topic. While I have been beating myself up about not blogging for a month and a half (the longest I think I have ever gone since beginning to blog in 2012), I realize that the flogging does no good and in fact arrests my growth. I have had a rough last several weeks, with the short story resulting in a hospital stay for a severe kidney infection (when Dave and I were in the ER, and we heard the word "sepsis" being quietly spoken, then I was immediately hooked up to an IV, an EKG, and fluids and morphine were shot through my IV, we definitely sat up and took notice----me, a bit loopier than Dave). In the end, I was hospitalized in San Antonio for 5 days because my kidney infection was stubborn and didn't want to respond to antibiotics. Two weeks later, I can honestly say I am feeling much better, and I am eternally grateful for my healthcare staff, friends who texted, emailed, Facebook messaged, dropped by (one with a Matthew McConaughey coloring book and colored pencils), and my dear husband who sacrificed playing golf more than a couple of days for my health (and indulging cravings for cherry slushes from Sonic when no other food or drink sounded good ---for almost 10 days----crazy!). To say I felt "vulnerable" is an understatement. I honestly did not know what was going on with me (from the CT scan showing an inflamed pancreas one day to a CT scan with contrast showing my right kidney "lit up"), and Dave and I felt "vulnerable". Ultimately, I can say I am stronger for what we went through because I leaned heavily on God. I mean....I leaned!! I think that I most often use that line when talking with principals and other school leaders about the culture in their schools. I based my entire dissertation on trust between principals and teachers, determining that one of the main "categories" of trust builders was communication. In other words, principals who communicated in an open and honest (and often fun-loving and even using self-deprecating humor) way were WAY more likely to be trusted by their teachers than those who thought they were possibly too "above" the teachers to talk with them, so they talked TO them. I most certainly do not know everything about leading a school (I did do it for 8 years and they were some of the best years of my life), but I do know this for certain: teachers know principals don't know everything about the teacher's classes, the curricula, the needs of their special needs students, the ins and outs of all of the aspects of the lesson the teacher is teaching on that day, etc. So why in the world would we (as school leaders) act like we know all that?? It simply makes no sense. The vulnerability that is equated with me asking a teacher to please explain to me what I will be seeing in their lesson today or asking the band director to make me smart enough to know what the tubas are needing help with (and, for the record, I'm the daughter of a lifelong band director, and I still need that assistance) is something that allows the teacher to advocate for their own practice, taking nothing away from my ego or my own knowledge (unless I let it, which is the kicker). I am grateful to have a loving God who does not judge but rather encourages me to get outside my comfort zone, which is naturally going to put me in a vulnerable situation. But that doesn't make me weak, and I need to remember that. For today, consider what makes you feel most vulnerable. Take a moment (or two or three) to examine from where that vulnerability stems and if it is even realistic. Then continue progressing in your field of expertise, knowing you have some knowledge and not all knowledge. Happy Communicating! Shelly ![]() When we were little girls, my sister Kristen and I shared a bedroom. The room was oversized, originally intended to be split into two rooms. We split the room into sections, instead. We used one side for our two twin beds, and the other side became our playroom, complete with a dollhouse that put Barbie’s Malibu home to shame, stuffed animals (that I wound up teaching a few short years later---great class; they never talked back or threw things at their teacher), art area, and bookshelves filled with our treasured picture books. Mother and Daddy encouraged artwork --- painting, drawing, coloring, although Mother snubbed her nose at traditional coloring books, claiming them to stifle any creativity. But I remember distinctly getting a package of paper and a box of Crayola crayons (I may or may not still harbor a secret resentment---okay, maybe not so secret anymore---- that my parents gave Kristen a 64 box of crayons, and I got a 24-count box). Artwork, however, was not encouraged to be completed on the walls of our bedroom, as I personally found out as a young girl. Like Harold with his purple crayon, I somehow got the idea that drawing on the wall by my bed with a blue crayon was a good idea. Not so. A strong scolding was all it took to convince me to not do that again. So, when Mother and Daddy suggested Kristen and I begin measuring ourselves, using a pencil to mark our height on the bedroom wall, I was a bit gun-shy. Was this a trick? Were we being "punked" (look it up---I'm old). Could we really mark on the wall? “Yes", we were told, "it’s fine in this case." Plus, we are only using pencil and we’ll wipe it off as we make new marks. Reluctantly, I backed against the wall to allow Kristen to draw a line above my head with a #2 pencil. In case Mother and Daddy changed their minds and got onto us for writing on the wall, maybe I wouldn’t be first in line to be scolded. Eeeeek! How odd to turn around and see where the mark on the wall was. It seemed so low. Could I really be that short? But week after week, we returned to the wall to measure. Lo and behold---the lines slowly but surely crawled up the wall. And despite the original notion that we would have to erase each time, we were able to keep the older pencil marks so we could see where we had come from. “Wow! Can you believe I was ever that short?” we would each marvel. Kristen and I grew taller, and we grew up, leaving that house behind when I was 8 years old to move to another part of Texas. Nichole Nordeman’s song “I Am” (click on the title to hear the song---it is so beautiful in so many ways) begins with the words: “Pencil marks on a wall, I wasn’t always that tall. You scattered some monsters from beneath my bed.” This melodic song depicts growing up, calling out by name the need for a savior, secret keeper, elbow healer, and comforter, with a loved one, with a fierce tribe of friends, a parent and, ultimately, God answering, “I am”. How I measured myself changed as the years went by. Marks on a wall were exchanged for milestones such as shopping for a first bra, “falling in love” with my first boyfriend, and moving into a college dorm. College, for me, brought a host of new experiences including making lifelong friends, two of whom ending up being bridesmaids in my wedding. Kelly, Robin and I saw each other through major boyfriend breakups, late night studying, and, ultimately, weddings. Forty years later (from meeting in college), there are 9 of us who get together every single year. When we called out for a “secret keeper” or “heartache healer”, the others would be there. We have listened to each other declare we would never be able to love again. When we were weak, we would call each other. When Robin called so long ago to say she was getting a divorce, I asked “Do you want me to come be with you?” She answered, “Come if you can.” I said, “I am.” In 2015, I was taking a bath when I felt a weird lump on my left breast. Just then, the phone rang. It was my doctor, saying they wanted to follow up my mammogram I had had the day before with an ultrasound. I remember saying, "If it is a lump, I already know where it is. I've never known what I was feeling for when told to do a self-exam in between mammograms, but I do now." They did a biopsy, and the unbelievably difficult wait for the phone call (that, I somehow knew, was a "You have breast cancer" call) continued until I was in Princeton, NJ for a work retreat. I was actually driving 6 colleagues to dinner when I got the call from my doctor. I had pulled the car over and gotten out, and she said those exact words to me. Everyone was super supportive, and I called Dave from the "dinner house", bawling my eyes out. I immediately changed my flight to get back home the next morning. Once back at the hotel, in the room by myself, I called Robin to tell her the news. It was gut-wrenching but we laughed and cried the whole time, while I know Dave was trying to figure out how we were going to "fix this". My "tribe" rallied around me with such intensity (including packages of things that melted my heart to Robin, Kelly and Michelle (one of my dearest friends as we went through our doctoral cohort together) coming to stay with me when Dave had to go back to work). "Are you sure it won't be a burden for you to come?" I asked. They all said "I Am". These lines from Nordeman's song still resonate with me for such a time as this: “When I am weak, unable to speak, still, I will call you by name. Oh Shepherd, Savior, pasture maker, hold on to my hand. And You said, ‘I am’.” After all these years, from measuring myself by pencil marks on a wall to measuring myself by the love I still feel for my sister and these God friends, I want to take a minute to remind them that when we are weak and unable to speak, if you call out for a secret keeper to hold your hand, I will answer “I am”. Blessings to all of you on this Sunday! Happy Communicating, Shelly A little what, you might ask?
I have a lot of them, but today's blog will focus on: Kindness I gave up sweets for Lent (does eating Lucky Charms cereal count as a sweet? Never mind.....it's too late to ask about that, now. Easter is coming in two days). I also took on a spiritual practice that I had always done in the past....but maybe not the 1st priority of my day. I have done daily prayers (by the bed on a kneeler, with both Labs' noses touching my nose) as a first thing in the morning ritual for the last 25+ years. But I also started reading spiritual page-of-the-day books with a couple of different "groups". The problem with that was I would sometimes forget my books when I traveled for work (I'm actually in flight right now back to Dave and the "kids" as we speak) and would just pick it up where I left off later in the day or when I was back home, etc. On the day of Lent, I took up the purposeful practice of doing these spiritual readings (and then texting my prayer partners) RIGHT after I got off my kneeler. It has truly made my life better, and I likely won't quit doing this after Easter has come and gone. I said all that to lead into this: I made a purposeful decision (not a Lenten practice) to change my world in another way. Since I do travel so much for my work, I often see travelers in the airport that are just downright nasty to airport/airline employees. Do we honestly believe that someone wakes up in the morning saying, "I am going to do my level best to disappoint or annoy as many people as I possibly can today"? I think not. I think delays, malfunctions, miscommunication are all part of our world, but they seem to be particularly "prickly" when it comes to air travel. We've likely all heard the story of the man who is yelling at the gate agent (who just announced that the departure time will be delayed by 30 minutes), "This is unacceptable. Do you know who I am???", only to have the gate agent call their supervisor to say, "We need some help at Gate D7. There is a gentleman who needs some help remember who he is." So, in response to watching things like that happen on a fairly routine basis, I challenged myself to enter any airport loaded with smiles and compliments and gratitude. Any worker I pass, I try to thank them for their service; as the gate agent scans my boarding pass, I tell them "thank you" for their hard work, and I wish them a blessed day. You know how little time that takes? Now, for the kicker. The benefits that come from that are indescribable. The gate agent perks up and says, "I so needed that. Thank you". The TSA agent says thank you for stacking up bins while I am waiting for my luggage to go through the conveyor belt. The flight attendant who is stressed out, already, comes and kneels down by my seat to tell me how much she appreciated my compliment on what a great job she is doing (that literally happened about 15 minutes ago on this flight. So, if it doesn't take that much time (just a little bit), and yet it reaps such benefits for the giver and receiver, then why in the world don't we do it more often?? Too rushed? So is everyone. Too tired? So is everyone. Too frustrated? So is everyone. But if we each did one little thing, and it spread and spread and spread, wouldn't we all feel better? PollyAnna view? Maybe, but I will take that as a win any day at any time. I'll bet I don't get another jewel in my Heavenly crown for chatting with the flight attendant, but I can tell you that I get more back from giving than I ever get back from receiving. Oh, good grief, now the flight attendant just brought an extra "oatmeal apple cinnamon breakfast blondie" back to me. Dear Lord, please tell me this is not a "sweet"! Happy Communicating! Shelly ![]() As most of you know, I totally use this blog to combine my education career, my spiritual life, marital life (with my sweet Dave, my husband of over 31 years), and communication about life, in general. This is definitely going to be a combination post. While Dave and I have been in Tucson this month, we both have had a great chance to get together with dear friends and family (mutually and separately), and the Labs have gotten to sniff on old and new plants (L.C. was pretty young when we moved to Texas from Tucson). Dave has been able to golf with some of his old buddies, and I have been able to get together with some of my dear spiritual partners many times. What has changed for us, mostly, is where we worship. It was really hard for us when we moved to Texas from Tucson as we had gotten SO close to our dear Episcopal priest (she has since "retired" and moved to Santa Fe). We were so afraid we would be unable to find a church in our area that would "feed our souls" as much as we had been fed in Tucson. We thought it would be so hard. Ummm.....the first church we went to was the one we still attend three years later and have become members. It wasn't hard to find....our worry MADE it hard. I was also worried I would not feel "church connected" while we spent a month out here. Dave and I have attended "couch church" the last few weeks, which is what we call attending our Boerne, Texas church online. For those of you who "celebrate" (that is SO not the right word, but stick with me) Lent, you know that Ash Wednesday is a pretty important day, and this past Wednesday gave me the blessed opportunity to go to get ashes and celebrate communion with one of my dearest spiritual partners. Genesis 3:19 is a pretty important verse during that service, as we are reminded that we are "but dust, and to dust we shall return". Part of it, to me, is kind of saying, "You're not all that and a bag of doughnuts; God is". Once I left the service (during which time we are supposed to be silent and meditative and contemplative, by the way), I had to call one of my very dearest friends who used to worship with me in Niceville, Florida and is now an Episcopal priest in NYC. She makes me laugh as hard as almost anyone else in the world. When she answered the phone, she said, "I am so busy but I had to pick up because I knew you were calling about 'butt dust'." Yep, for over twenty years, we have laughed out loud (never, ever could we sit together in a Lenten service, which is convenient because I just attend and she preaches, now) about the 'but dust', because if it doesn't make you laugh to think about being "butt dust", I will order you a sense of humor for Easter. It is not hard to find joy even during Lent, when there is fasting and taking on of new and improved habits, especially when you hang with the right people. This morning was the first Sunday of Lent, and Jamie, our dear Episcopal priest, talked about how we simply don't like or want things to be hard. But, in a way, we somehow need hard work to get to the good stuff. It reminded me of a workshop I was teaching a couple of months ago, during which I was teaching school leaders observation skills that would help their teachers. One of the principals said, "This is really hard work!", and before I could respond, another principal answered, "Only if we do it right". YES!! It would be easy to observe and evaluate teachers with just pencil-whipping the process, but what would they learn? For that matter, what would WE learn about ourselves and about how to communicate effectively and improve our own teaching practice? I was blessed again to be able to teach in a school district north of Chicago this week, and before the session started (it was an afternoon session after early release for students), several teachers brought their own "comfy" chairs in (while I was setting up the room) to switch out for the hard, cold, metal ones that were at each table. See....no one wants to be uncomfortable....and I get that!! Why can't all chairs be comfortable? The work we did Friday afternoon was hard work, for sure, but despite that, these teachers laughed, shared ideas, and stayed engaged until 3:20 in the afternoon! Hard work can also be fun work, I think. Lent is 40 days.....I am planning to do some fasting, some processing, and some being vulnerable by looking inside and outside myself. After all, the work I do in education, marriage, my spirituality, and particularly in my communication is HARD.....but only if I do it right...and remember that I am "but(t) dust". :) Happy Communicating! Shelly ![]() I've been thinking about SuperBowl (not the actual football game that sports fans are watching but ALL the things that surround this day) Sunday, and I am amazed that a game like this could cause so many outrageously angry and ugly comments (90% of which are not even about the game itself!) from people on Facebook, in person, and on video. I guess I shouldn't be amazed, truly, since so much of what I do for a living (including traveling through crowded airports and disgruntled travelers) puts me in positions to watch the meltdowns of people. We've all seen videos (or firsthand experiences) that show rage in airports, on highways, at gas stations, etc. I have always been the person who wants to say, "I think what ______ is trying to say is....." to try to defuse the situation. Only once have I had someone tell me not to get involved and I strongly suspect it was because they weren't finished reading the other person the riot act. In other cases, people might say, "Oh! I didn't get that" and hopefully stop the feuding right there. If you don't like one of the football teams, great. Why not say something about the team you DO like instead of disrespecting the other team. And, as for the rest of the celebrities (will Taylor make it back from Tokyo on time?), players, venue, millions of dollars spent on commercials, etc., what would today look like if we simply cheered for the people we care about instead of spending more time griping about those they don't like (even "hate", which I despise hearing)? I love it when people can simply agree to disagree. If you like Travis and Taylor, great. If you don't, maybe use the Thumper's motherly advice: If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. When Dave and I moved back from Tucson to Texas, I joined a Facebook group that is run by the dad of the AMAZING guy who cleans our windows. The purpose of the group? Everyone is asked to share their favorite Thai restaurants or maybe the best restaurant for a romantic dinner. Unbelievable (well, actually it is believable, because I watch it happen every single day) as it is, people say the ugliest things for such a "softball" topic. Some people end their post with something like: "Looking forward to your 'best taco' restaurants....and, go!" The responses are anywhere from "Go to Mary's Taco House if you like freshly made tortillas" (yea!) to "I'm not going to GO anywhere. Stop with the stupid 'and go!' comments" (really? does that bug you that much?) to "The best tacos are at my own house. Sorry! You're out of luck". Ummmm....how about simply not answering if you are going to be a part of the problem and not the solution. The same thing happens with "Nextdoor" or any other app. Somehow, we humans can make the nastiest comments out of the most mundane topics. For example, someone may ask where they could get their new puppy trained. The answers are astounding, and all I can think is I do not want those people anywhere near Kirby and L.C. because there is always someone who will say something like, "If you don't know how to train a puppy, you shouldn't own a dog." Really? How is that helpful? Ummmmm....it's not. On the flipside, I do not believe that forum is appropriate to talk politics, to ask for money, or to use as a singles match-up place (and, as usual, I will say, "Thank God I have Dave"). Years ago, I was about to walk into a meeting full of friends of Bill W. (If you know, you know; if not, suffice it to say I was in a meeting of people who were working on being better people). Outside in the parking lot, two of my favorite old-timer guys were arguing loudly about candidates for an upcoming election. Each had their own very important points they wanted to make about how their "man" was the best "man" for the job. At 7:00 p.m., the meeting started, and you would have thought those two guys were the best of friends. There was no malice, only head nods when the other spoke about the main reason we were at that meeting (which was decidedly and most definitely NOT about politics). At one point, John (may be a pseudonym or not; you'll never know, will you?) was talking about how he and his wife sometimes get in disagreements (What????? How could that happen???). John said, "We have learned now, that when we get into those types of arguments, one of us simply turns to the other and says, 'You might be right about that', and then the argument has no place to go." I can honestly say that was a turning point for Dave's and my marriage that we can simply say, "You might be right" (I admit we do jokingly sometimes add a whispered "You're wrong but let's pretend you're right") and it takes the wind out of the argument's sails. I'm so grateful that I can simply scroll past ugly posts on Twitter (now X), Facebook, NextDoor, and even the San Antonio Restaurants and wind up a lot happier than if I jumped into the fray. So, just for today, enjoy the SuperBowl or stick to the PuppyBowl to be safe. Happy Communicating! Shelly For the last 25 or 26 years, I have been doing a morning ritual that entails kneeling down by my bed (when I am traveling, I still do it only because I know I'm about to get in the shower to get ready for work) with two Yellow Lab noses trying to nose my nose, and I pray. I no longer pray for "things" or even necessarily my circumstances to change. I have a firm belief that God has a pretty good idea of what is going to happen to me and my loved ones, already. No, the prayers are for me. While that, on the surface, likely sounds pretty shallow, I know that, for me, helps keep me disciplined and ready to do what God has asked me to do: love Him, love my neighbors (including Dave, of course, as he has been my "neighbor" for 31+ years), and spread love when possible.
The next thing I do (75% of the time, honestly, I'm good at this; 25% of the time, I am either late or a day behind) is to read passages from three prayer and meditation books. Why three? I have three separate sets of prayer partners with whom I am accountable for sharing what I think about the reading for the day and truly reading and taking in what is going on with them. On this note, Dave and I are spending some time this month in Tucson (from where we moved away from to come back to Texas three years ago). Yesterday, I got a chance to go to a great meeting of people who also want to keep their side of the street clean, and I got to sit next to my dear Becky and Deb, who are my prayer partners for one of my readings. Of course, I am skipping over all the gymnastics we go through to feed the dogs, take them on a walk down to the river park in our neighborhood (where our youngest Lab, L.C. (Elsie) chases deer like she wants to become one) or in the neighborhood where we are renting here in Tucson, and figure out what else we have to do for the day. Here's what I DON'T do, upon awakening. I will not verbally (or in written form) spar with someone just because they are looking forward to a good argument. In my adult years, I have learned to say my piece, listen to others', and hopefully leave as friends and family, still. One thing I also try to do is avoid people in my life who do not fill my bucket. Whether that is someone I work for or with, someone on Facebook who is saying totally disrespectful things, or even someone who just ranted to the gate agent that he was going to sue her for not getting him out of ________ (fill in the blank with any city---I've seen in happen in many of them). I have a firm belief that I might not want to stick my nose in where it doesn't belong (we're trying to teach Kirby that he likely shouldn't try to get down in the hole where an armadillo just slipped into), I also feel the need to speak for those who don't always speak up. On that note, I typically keep my head down while I am working, as I LOVE the work I do (teaching teachers and school leaders about how to get better in our craft), but I am going to shout from the rooftops and sing a "Hallelujah!" if someone I've watched move on from being my "boss", especially when they are deceitful, two-faced, and lacking skills in areas we most need them right now. In cases like this, I am hopeful I get the chance to say what I truly believe, which is "How you do anything is how you do everything". And, on the same note, if there is someone I believe who not only has the "more than uber-competent skillset" but also the character to back up his work, I pray I can be of service to somehow do my small part to get them in that leadership role that has been vacated. My dear friends, family, and colleagues will more than likely know that I will say what I believe, even if it somehow takes me out on a teetering limb. Educators deserve our very best, so I won't ever apologize for that. How do you wake up and how do you use your day for good? Happy Communicating to all of you, Shelly ![]() So much negativity is talked about via social media, on the TV, at dinner parties, and even at church. I've always wondered how the negative news travels faster than good news. How often do my "L.C. chasing butterflies" videos get traction versus the political memes (and so many others)? In other words, am I making every day pure drudgery or am I becoming new? And what does that really mean....becoming new? For me, it means basically the same thing that the Serenity Prayer has taught me throughout most of my adult life. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference (Attributed to Reinhold Niebuhr, Lutheran theologian (1892–1971)). My problem is simply getting out of my own way. I have a choice to believe that God has good things ahead for me, and when I stay focused on that, I really can't go wrong (I get down on my prayer stool by my bed (or on the likely dirty carpet at my hotel when I am traveling) and say a prayer that finishes with the Serenity Prayer), especially since I believe God calls me to be a person who can walk among people and possible share some goodness. I talked in a blog this year about how I made a vow last year (and I'm not stopping it just because it's a new year) to always thank the gate agents who are helping us board. Boy, do they catch a lot of flack! And it would be amusing to watch someone yell at the gate agent about the weather that is delaying, except I know that is not all they are blamed for. I am actually surprised at their surprise when I say, "Thanks for all you're doing, and I pray you have a great rest of your day." You know who else needs to hear all that and more? Educators and educational leaders....they are on the frontline of some mighty big negativity right now, and I will likely preach it up until my last breath, "There likely wouldn't be people in most occupations without teachers". I love that thought. We all can remember that favorite teacher who could even make an apathetic reader begin loving books; we can remember the favorite teacher who wrote little notes on a student's desk when she saw the 5th grade student was struggling with parents going through a really nasty divorce (oh wait, that's me, and that teacher was Claudia Edgerton and I keep up with her via Facebook, still); we can also likely remember the teacher we disliked the most who might have made us want to prove our worth to them and to the world. I'm not going to lie....I have a passion for teaching (mostly adult learners now, but I get to be in schools and in classrooms all the time) that never seems to lose its awesome power. I have made a pact with God, with Dave, with any participants in workshops I teach, and with myself that when I lose that "ooomph" for teaching, I will stop. I want to always be the person who brings the light to a dark place. Indeed, we have tough times we have to go through at times, but another one of my favorite prayers (that has been attributed to St. Francis of Assisi but not ever found in his works) is: Lord, make me a channel of Thy peace; that where there is hatred, I may bring love; that where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness; that where there is discord, I may bring harmony; that where there is error, I may bring truth; that where there is doubt, I may bring faith; that where there is despair, I may bring hope; that where there are shadows, I may bring light; that where there is sadness, I may bring joy. Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort, than to be comforted; to understand, than to be understood; to love, than to be loved. For it is by self forgetting, that one finds. It is by forgiving, that one is forgiven. It is by dying, that one awakens to Eternal Life. My prayer for you today is that you find something in your life about which to be completely, nutso-crazy, passionate about and DO it!! Happy Communicating, Shelly One of my favorite things to do in life is to analyze things. Even in the children's sermon, I so badly try to make sense of what is in the message for me....on that day....in what is going on in my life at the time. Today, we heard about windows and doors. With just those two words, what do you think of? To me, I think that doors are the barriers we either put in front of us ourselves or the barriers we believe are keeping us from the path in front of us.
Windows, on the other hand, are the ways we see the light, the answers, and the opportunities in our lives. That's my take on it, anyway. Windows provide a way to see the way forward. I remember reading the book "Alive" about the airplane crash and the Andes survivors by Piers Paul Read when I was a young girl. While it was shocking, I also saw people who were looking for the opportunity to live. Naturally the most shocking part was the fact that they had to make a choice about whether to eat the bodies of the ones who had perished. To me, as I sit in the warmth of my home, I would say "That would be a hard no for me"----a definite "door" that I could not or would not open. However I can only imagine what it would be like to have the instinct or the window to survive. The people who did the impossible, eating the flesh of the deceased, were able to survive for 72 days until they were rescued. Time after time, the news got worse. From a transistor radio found in someone's suitcase, they were able to hear that the rescue had been called off and wouldn't resume until the spring thaw. It only seemed to get worse as avalanche after avalanche ripped through the carnage of what was left of the plane, killing person after person. Given the atrocity of the situation, what is it that allows some to see doors and some to see windows? Of course, there are so many stories of tragedy and survival from the dawn of time to the present time. What is it that allows some to have hope and some to lose hope? I would like to believe that I am a survivor. At what point could I eat human flesh in order to survive? I'm so grateful to believe in an awesome God who will take care of me (and all those who I love) in this life and into the next. I want to see through the windows and not ever get caught up looking at the doors as barriers. Some days are simply tougher than others. We walk through hard things that we never thought we could walk through before. Where does that come from? Just for today, I pray that I continue to see windows where possible and not be thwarted by a door. What are your ways to see windows instead of doors? How do we ensure that we not only see the windows themselves but that we can also help others to see the windows where possible? Sharing hope is likely one of the most important things we can do...not just for us but for others we love. I'm going to keep looking for windows of opportunity---how about you? Happy Communicating, Shelly |
Shelly ArnesonCategories |