I just had to check the date. Moving is exhausting and I feel weirdly suspended in the spaces between “old” and “new.” This in-between renders time irrelevant, but work and other obligations drag me back to the present.
There is much to be grateful for and moments that have sparked joy. Beebs and I saw two deer on our walk this morning. I think I’ll let the pictures from our Sunday morning exploration do the talking.
✌️❤️Laura
The past month has seen a flurry of going through stuff and packing. I pull out an item, look at it, and ask myself, “Does it still serve me?” If the answer is “yes,” I put the item in a box. If the answer is “no,” it goes into a donation pile or a trash bag–but not before thanking it for its service to me. There might be a slight pang at the realization that I’m letting go, especially if it’s an item that has traveled with me through many epochs of my life–but I can let it go and be grateful.
There was a time in my life when I was ashamed of my “coping mechanisms.” I called them things like, “maladaptive,” and “weaknesses,” and when I would find myself sinking into them, I would beat myself up over “failing” again. My therapist helped me to see that these were adaptations that helped me survive the storms that never seemed to stop coming forward in my life.
Some of these adaptations have turned into “superpowers” of a sort. When a student walks into my office, I know without them saying a word if it will be a day that I need to set the notebook for taking data aside and give them a quiet space, or a space to vent, or the space to say, “I can’t do this today.” My adaptation to “read people” to keep myself safe has changed to reading people to help them keep their own selves safe.
I had one of those little Sterilite 3 drawer organizer thingies. In my first marriage, it sat in the sort of linen closet we had in our bathroom. In the house and apartment I moved to after that marriage went kaput, it sat on my desk. When I moved in with Patrick, I stashed it under the bathroom sink.
Over the years those three little drawers held makeup and other sundry personal toiletry items–hair clips, lice combs (the kids and I endured several rounds of Lice Capades together). It also served duty as a place to stow notepads and pens/pencils. Eventually, the bottom drawer became warped, making it hard to open and rendering it nearly useless, unless you tugged real hard on it. The organizer became a source of frustration, rather than something useful.
As I packed our bathroom with Patrick, I held the organizer up and thought about all the things those three little drawers had witnessed–the tears, the triumphs, the mundane. I thanked them for their service to me and carried them to the recycling bin, where I hope they will be taken and transformed into something that serves someone else in just the way that they need.
Long time readers of this blog know that I love to stretch a metaphor till it reaches the breaking point. Hold on tight..I have been stretched, but not broken and I have been stretched and broken, but I always managed to come together again in a new way–and I’m certain that these stretching and not breaking/breaking are cycles that will repeat in my life. Breaking is not always such a bad thing, because we are more than the sum of our broken parts. We can come together again and be something new if we keep sticking around, and giving and receiving help when needed. Why else are we here except to walk each other home?
I am grateful for what I held onto and allowed to be transformed. I am grateful for letting go of what no longer serves me. The letting go makes room for more joy.
✌❤Laura
Spring is all around us now with it’s promise of renewal and new beginnings. When Patrick and I chose our wedding date, we picked the start of spring break so we could have some time to enjoy together, even though our “official” honeymoon wouldn’t happen till June.
Life has away of making other plans…
We put a contract on a house the week before our wedding, it was accepted, and if all goes well, we will settle on April 19. We traded lazy days filled with wine and cheese for busy days filled with bubble wrap, cardboard, and sharpie markers (and beer).
I am grateful for all those who brought us boxes, for the leftovers from our wedding celebration that fed us for a few days (until we were fed up with them, lol), and for my previous moving experience which makes this process a little more manageable for me.
I wouldn’t have planned the timing quite like this, but it does mean we will be settled well before our honeymoon, which feels like a good thing. I’m also greatly looking forward to settling into a home with Patrick that we build together…and I’m especially looking forward to drinking coffee with him on a screened in porch that faces trees, and more trees…and for the path through the woods that leads to a river.
This is a joy and gratitude post. I would be grateful if you would keep Baltimore in your prayers. I’ve lived in and around the area for almost 30 years now, and it has become home. Prayers are needed for the families of those that lost loved ones and for those whose livelihoods are now in jeopardy because of the closure of the shipping lanes.
This has the potential to be a slow rolling disaster with enormous economic impact. Baltimore folk are resilient and although I found them a bit rude when I first moved here in 1995, I’ve come to realize that the initial gruffness hides amazing hearts—people that will give you the shirt off their backs. I am hoping and praying that all that generosity will be returned to Baltimore.
✌️❤️ Laura
Two years ago today, I shared the following on Facebook:
This morning, I wrote in my journal about the heaviness that I’m feeling in my life right now. Yes—there are the joy/gratitude posts and the smiles and laughter…but I’m processing so much right now, and not all of it can be disclosed with abandon, at least not safely.
It’s also hard because I have to do this processing around the edges of my life—between work and responsibilities to friends and family. So everyday, I pick up those suitcases full of sand and keep going because I don’t want to stop living, but I have yet to process all of what I am now willing to say is the trauma that I endured for a long, long time.
When I first wrote in my journal about these suitcases full of sand, I said that I was spilling a little bit here and a little bit there, leaving it behind—almost abandoning it in a sense. By the time I got to the end of my journaling, I realized that I couldn’t just leave all of it behind me because that sand is part of what makes me who I am today, and part of where I’ll be tomorrow.
Instead of abandoning it, I need to make it beautiful—transform it into a Mandela of sweetness and sorrow. I know this truth in my soul, having already expressed it in various other metaphors. It’s just easy to forget and be discouraged because transformation is not an easy process—growing is as painful as it is life giving.
So, when I listened to this podcast about an upcoming book from Susan Cain called, “Bittersweet,” I started crying. I’m still weepy. It felt like validation. Instead of spilling the sand and sweeping it under the rug, I can look at it and find the beauty, and use it to create something new and wonderful that doesn’t ignore the pain, but recognizes it as part of my pattern of being and becoming.
I strongly recommend this podcast. I really can’t recommend it enough.
Friends from all eras of our lives, as well as Patrick’s sister and nephew also came to celebrate with us. We were greatly honored by the amount of people that wanted to share in our joy!
I am grateful I did the work to build a castle out of all that sand and that I left the door open for love to walk inside.
✌️❤️Laura
We have enjoyed a glorious stretch of spring-like temperatures. All extra outerwear was discarded as the world exploded into blooming color.
Unfortunately, the we traded the beautiful weather for more winter-like temperatures this week. It’s a bit disappointing, but the train has been let out of the station and I don’t think it’s going back in.
The earth’s reawakening reminds me of my own times of dormancy and blooming. This is a natural cycle, so I try not to beat myself up when I see an art and/or writing project that has been long neglected. These fallow seasons are necessary for greater growth and I can feel the tingling in my soul that tells me a re-awakening is on the horizon.
And, I get to marry this guy. On Saturday! On Sunday, we celebrate with our families–my brother and family are coming from North Carolina and Patrick’s sister and family are coming from South Carolina! We also have quite a few friends from every corner of our lives coming to celebrate with us. It’s going to be joy-full!
✌❤ Laura
A bunch of ladies that I used to work with took me out last Friday night to celebrate my upcoming nuptials (10 days and counting). I was expecting a casual get together, but they had other ideas as you can see, including a very generous gift! Whenever we get together, there is a lot of laughter, support, and love. I am so grateful to have these women in my life. We have been through a lot together and I am so glad to share this joyous part of my life with them.
Being the only one in a school building that does a particular job is challenging. Less than half of your co-workers have any idea who you are, and at least two thirds of those that do know who you are actually appreciate your position, and the work you do. I try to be a team player by sending out my schedule of pull out sessions to teachers and asking them to look it over and let me know of conflicts so that I can reschedule sessions ahead of time. Some read it, some don’t. Lately, I’ve been getting some push back from some of the teachers, “you can’t pull X student from my class today.”
I have some big feelings when this happens, especially when I try to be a team player, and I’ve started expressing that frustration in person when I’m challenged. This past week I also emailed an explanation of what it takes to create a service delivery schedule and that if students aren’t provided a service that’s on their IEP, a law has been broken and our state department of education can launch an investigation.
Why is this in a joy post you ask?
Because there was a time when I would’ve rolled over and allowed myself to be a doormat. Instead, I’m fighting back. My job is important and if students improve their communication skills by attending my sessions it will only help teachers in the long run. I am grateful my personal growth and think it should be celebrated.
The upcoming weeks bring marriage, followed by spring break, followed by the final quarter of the 23-24 academic year. I am grateful to be marrying a wonderful man–one I never thought I’d find! I’m also hoping to get a little rest ahead of the final quarter of the 23-24 school year!
✌❤Laura
Yesterday on my morning walk with Beebs, I noticed that the air is starting to carry that spark of light and freshness that spring brings. Above me, I could hear a cacophony of quacking that grew louder as a disorganized “V” formation of ducks flew overhead. I stopped for a moment to wonder at them. They were probably headed towards one of the ponds that are plentiful in this area. Soon, there will be lines of baby ducks following their Mamas around in these ponds.
The student who wrote the list pictured above is best described as sunshine with legs. She does not shrink from spreading her light all over the school. I am so grateful for her and the joy she brings..
This morning as Beebs and I rounded the corner for home, we heard a woodpecker in the distance. I stopped for a moment and savored the sound…to me, woodpeckers mean spring is on its way.
When I lived in Maine as a child, the crocus (crocuses, croci?) would often shoot up through the snow. My favorites were the purple ones. I loved the way that bright color contrasted with the tired whiteness of snow. These little guys always bring a smile and a jolt of joy…spring is coming.
I finished the course of antibiotics and steroids prescribed by my doctor after battling Covid. I am finally starting to feel like my old self as the world starts warming up for spring time. I am grateful for the earth’s renewal and for my own.
✌❤ Laura
Covid log, day 16. This sucks! I am still coughing and not sleeping, which is not helping me feel 100%. I’m on cough medicine, antibiotics and the doc called in steroids for me yesterday. Hopefully, between all of those things, I will be feeling better soon. All of that to say, avoid this if you can. I did all things, including washing my hands 5,643 times a day–but I work with kids so, it was probably inevitable.
At any rate, I remain grateful for Patrick who picks up my slack and makes me laugh on the regular.
And for BeBe, who still begs for “pizza bones” despite not having any teeth.
✌❤Laura
I am on “day 8” of symptoms. There is a little residual stuffiness and I am definitely feeling fatigued and noticing some weird side effects—I never lost my sense of smell, but it sometimes seems “broken.” For instance, I’ll smell coffee being brewed—when it isn’t.
I am grateful for a supportive partner in Patrick, that it took me 4 years into a pandemic to get sick, that I stayed current on vaccines and thus trained my immune system for this fight, that burning through four days of sick leave was possible, for cough drops, and hot tea, soup, oatmeal, warm blankets, and fuzzy socks.
✌️❤️Laura
I am under the weather…fortunately covid negative. But as I said to Patrick this morning, my students have been snarfling and coughing on me for weeks, so I suppose it was only a matter of time.
Here’s 5 things I love right now:
✌❤Laura
Little Reflections