we need to let go and go with our children

She wanted to run right to the end. Her little hand tugged and tugged at her mother to let her go. The mother was afraid, afraid of the freedom the child longed for.  It was the open space that worried her most, not being able to always to be sure of the boundaries.  Her mind was always full of what might happen and that ‘might’ always ended in disaster. Improbable disaster her intellect said, but her heart didn’t agree.

She turned her attention to the child hoping to distract her. Then on a sudden  spur of the moment thought she let go of her daughter’s hand and ran with her down the length of the pier and into the summer’s day.

just a bit of writing!

“1852 was the year when it happened, a mountain top experience that would give a dull life a purpose and a delight.

They had slowly made their way to the top, wanting to see the view in winter that they had so often seen in summer, a view covered now in a fine layer of snow.

With gloved hands pulling and helping each other, they had made it and were standing looking at the valleys and peaks as far as the eye could see.

It was then the perfect moment came. He lifted the small box from his pocket. She blushed as she realized what this moment would be. After a moment of perfect joy in each other, they shouted their joy. They shouted it from the mountain tops making it echo valley after valley after valley.”

The group of students erupted with mirth, the clichéd tale not lost on them. ‘A good attempt,’ they said!

It was lunchtime, we were at Writers’ Club. The deal had been to select random settings and weave a story around them. A few minutes of writing to come up with something. I didn’t usually get involved. I usually sat back and ate my lunch while the students wrote. But today I was in the mood to have a go.

There’s something extra special about writing with others. Sharing some fun, playing around, learning to enjoy the gift of writing from God. It’s in learning to let go that we gain so much.  My writing has been so blessed, so enriched, so pulled down to the level of reality by students who have listened and critiqued and encouraged me. Writers need friends who tell it like it is and I’ve had them – dozens of students who have humbled me by their writing, and oh so gently encouraged mine.

At home it has been my own children who have made me feel that I’m a writer, who have shared their writing with me and encouraged me to keep going.

Find people in your life who will encourage your gift, who will support your sometimes stumbling steps to ‘have a go’. When all is done, just ‘have a go’, have fun. Find more of God in the joy of being who He created you to be.

A story about nothing and everything.

The days are beginning to change. Setting on the verandah of the beach house, a picture  postcard sunset in front of me. I don’t see it. I don’t see it, don’t accept the changes that are happening. Just as days turns to evening, to night; the changes are happening all around me.

These September days I have come to the beach house, to sit, to think, to clarify, to wonder what in the world is in store.

Yet I find myself, instead, just sitting, gazing, keeping thoughts at bay.

She was such a good friend – is such a good friend – will always be a good friend.

The sun sets over the sea with a spectacular finale, and darkness begins to envelop me.. I shiver at life. Its turns and twists can surprise one moment and totally confuse me the next.

My mind lives in the past and the future so often caught between the what might have been and the what could be. This is the place  come to to sit in the present, to capture the minutes and hours of time being lived.

I stand and gather my things – a book, a journal, a pen – things to keep me from the present. As I enter the soft glow of the living room its aloneness tugs at me, inviting me to sit awhile in its intimacy. To enjoy the now, not as an escape but as a reason to be alive.

My thoughts turn to yesterday, the news, the reality of change. Quickly I refocus. There is an evening ahead, not to get through but to enjoy. Decisions t be made about the now. A glass of wine, music, a crossword puzzle, the lapping waves.

The enjoyment of now in the face of change.

I am a Writer!
For as long as I can remember I have written. First it was stories, then poems, now a mix, and always letters and later journal entries. I can't remember a time when I didn't write although there must have been a time!
I'm pretty sure I was already story writing when I started Kindergarten and I can remember sitting at home writing long tales in Year 1. I can remember reading these stories to my sister who always made me feel like she wanted to listen. She was a lot older than I was and wrote amazing children's fairy tales - I still have some of them in her handwriting! I suppose she was the person who encouraged me to write.
However, after finishing Primary School where I always came first in Story Writing, I arrived in High School believing I was not creative and continued to think this for many years. I had never thought of this before, but, my sister died when I was in Year 7. I guess I then had no one to encourage my writing.
During those 'non-creative' years, my writing took the form of essays, letters and later journal entries. I may not have been writing fiction then but I was making up story after story in my imagination. In fact, I had a whole world in my head of people and places, events and adventures. Those stories were only for me, after all I was not creative enough to write them down for others to read.
Sometimes people would say how much they enjoyed my interesting letters - I thought they were just being kind to uncreative me. I started keeping a journal when I was in my 20s but at that time it was rather dull recording events and feelings as minimally as possible - I knew I wasn't a writer.
Quite suddenly, for no apparent reason it all changed. I was sitting on a hill in the Chiltens, just outside of London, when I wrote the first poem I can ever remember writing. I had been going through a difficult time trying to make some decisions about the future, but that day I had just been thoroughly enjoying myself, walking with a friend, when at the end of a steep climb I had sat down for a rest and taken out my journal to record where we were, but instead wrote a poem.
After that the poems started to come slowly, when least expected and with no particular desire on my part to become a poet.
A few years after coming back from overseas I got a job in a school, teaching Secondary English (and History). In the first year the staff member who was running the annual Writers' Camp became ill quite suddenly and I heard myself saying, "I'll do it". Why I said I'd do it is not clear to me even now (obviously it was God's prompting), I think I felt a tug to again be involved in writing.
I had been reading and thinking and had begun to believe that as a child of the Supreme Creator I might just be creative! I had begun to learn that creativity came in all shapes and sizes and that everyone was creative in some way.
Thus began my numerous years of running writers' camps and encouraging others to write creatively. I seemed to intuitively know how to help others write and as time went on I re-discovered my own voice as a creative writer both in poetry and in prose.
Now I write almost every day and feel able to call myself a writer and a poet. However, I still struggle with thinking of myself as good. By that I mean, good enough for others to want to read it. I am very adept at brushing off anyone telling me my writing is good.
This is my challenge. I started writing this blog thinking I would write regularly but then decided no one would really want to read it so why bother. That was an excuse, a fear of still not believing I'm a real writer!! My challenge - to keep writing regardless!
Vicki

Joy

No actual balcony, no actual sea but there still needs to be time in my day to reflect. At home it is harder not to be distracted by things that need to be done. At any given moment there are a whole list of possibilities to do.

As I started to reflect on the past week it just seemed a blur, a week that had all rolled in to a frenetic attempt to get through each day. It was actually hard to distinguish the days.

In the midst of the pace I had lost the idea of joy, of blessings given day by day. I was reading one day this past week about how it is more natural to be fearful and to worry than to be joyful. I had found myself slipping in to this fear and worry in the busyness of my week, not because there was any big thing to be fearful about or to worry about, but because I hadn’t taken the opportunity to find joy.

I think for a lot of my life I have expected joy to find me, now I realize it is up to me to look for the glimmer, the splash, the sheer beauty of joy in each day. It’s always there, I don’t always look.

As I reflect about the week I am looking for the joy in each day that perhaps I missed at the time!

Last Sunday as I left the sparkling water and lush green hills of the Central Coast there was joy in just the looking around me. A moment of stopping and looking gave joy for the rest of the day, made me reflect on a God who could be so creative as to have a still beautiful bay on one side of the hill and a wild sea on the other.

On Monday there was the joy of reading to students who were really enjoying the book, who had got involved in the life of the main character and wanted to know what happened next.

On Tuesday there was the joy of caring people taking time to listen and understand.

On Wednesday there was the joy of spending time with a friend, not even having to talk all the time – being secure in our friendship.

On Thursday there was the joy of having time to read in bed, get up a little later before the teaching day started. Then the part of the week that is always so special and brings joy just anticipating it – spending time with family and playing with my grandsons.

Friday, the joy of spending time with colleagues after work and being energized for the weekend.

Finding joy in every day wasn’t too hard! Imagine all the points of joy I missed because I didn’t look. Every day there are gifts we need to look for and take hold of. Everyday there is joy.

reflecting on the balconey

It’s not hard to write sitting on a balcony looking out at Hardy Bay. Even the rain falling persistently doesn’t detract from the morning. There is a gentleness, a peace, a rest, a joy in being able to begin a day just like this – sipping tea on the balcony looking at the water.

I was involved in a Leadership Intensive last year and one of the things we talked about was having balcony moments. It didn’t mean actual, real balconies, of course (although I feel that real balcony moments are just as important!) What they meant was to take time to step back from our life and get a clearer look at it from a different perspective. To be able to withdraw and have time to think and reflect.

As I sit here this morning letting my mind wander, the past week takes on a different perspective. It has been easy to see the blessings! My mind replayed Period 6 with Year 7/8 Explorers yesterday afternoon. It was very chaotic and everyone was doing something different and my head was spinning from trying to answer a multitude of different questions at the same time – is girragundji a frog in the aboriginal language; what’s a simile; can I draw the map on coloured paper; can we make up a drama instead of a dance? Yes, it was chaotic. But as I reflect it brings a smile to my face – a room full of students all busily enjoying working (yes, English IS fun!). What I remember most is the smile on one students face as I explained what a simile was and he got it.

Why write all this? The balcony moment this morning is bringing into perspective all the little moments from the week, and instead of feeling exhausted from the week I can see a purpose, a reason for what I do.

I can’t travel to the Central Coast every weekend. There won’t be a real balcony or a real bay every Saturday. However, right here and now I am deciding that every Saturday morning from now on will be a time to stop and reflect on the week past in a different way. Saturday mornings will be a time to look for those Ah Ha! Moments.

gorillas

I should be asleep. I was quite tired but I decided to try on my gorilla outfit before going to bed. that got me thinking and now I am wide awake! I haven't written for a while - my writng seems to be having a dry spell! It is probably more to do with not giving myself enough time to just sit and let the creativity happen. Tonight, standing in front of the mirror in my gorilla suit (pictures soon) I started to feel a bit of that old creativity. It was hard to breathe, I won't be able to be a gorilla for very long, but it will be fun. What is it really all about?
It is about listening to my heart/soul/the bit that's created in the image of God. Last week I was asked to speak at a Conference later in the year. At first I thought I would do something about writing. Then into my head came the idea of exploring the way God's creativity can unfold in the classroom. Dressing up as a gorilla for my class is part of that. I want them to have fun but I also want to challenge them to think differently. I think I have lost a little of that creative approach to teaching over the last little while because it takes effort and vulnerability and time!
This year is about taking up the challenge to live dangerously - live the life God intended for me instead of the cautious one I so often adopt. I do know there's an extroverted Vicki who longs to do crazy things from time to time, but she is often put in her place by the organised, logical, duty bound Vicki. Well it's time to let go, be free! Let a bit of craziness supplement the rest.
I think God intended for us to be playful and sin has bound us up in so many ways. I know that, yet I still let myself be bound at times instead of living the life I can live because of the incomparably great power God gives us to live as He intended.
Well, it really is time to go to sleep, perhaps I'll dream of gorillas - the gentle playful ones like the one in the book I've been doing with Year 7/8. I'll go to sleep wondering what other creative ideas might be lurking around - there are usually plenty if I just take time to listen!

Challenges

As I walked along the road towards the school my heart was full of anticipation (and some fear). This was my first teaching post - a little school in an outer Sydney suburb, only a few classrooms and a large field for playing. For a year this is where I would work, where I would learn much about teaching, much about life, and even more about myself.

The Headmistress seemed ancient to me a fresh 21 year old straight from college. I soon discovered her methods of teaching had been left behind many years before by most. Her ways were certainly not the ways I wanted to teach. My plans were full of creativity, play, relationships. I had big visions for my little class of 7 year olds! It didn’t matter to me that only one child in the class had been born in Australia, it didn’t matter to me that only that boy and a small group of English migrant kids actually spoke English. It didn’t matter to me that I had no ESL training, no Special Ed training and had no idea why one child crawled along the tops on the classroom cupboards whenever he got the chance.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that year lately as I’ve been doing some writing about my life. It was a very important year for me as a teacher and some of the things I learnt then are still at the forefront of my teaching philosophy now.

Despite all her ‘interesting’ educational ideas, the Headmistress loved those kids who had come from many parts of the world (in my class alone there were children from England, Italy, Greece, Spain, Lebanon, Indonesia) and been thrown into this hodge-podge community. She knew their families, she understood their struggles.

Despite my lack of experience and halting steps as a first year out teacher, those kids accepted me, tried their hardest to understand what I was trying to teach them and smiled at me even when they had no idea what I was going on about(my lack not theirs).

(One of the funny things I learnt that year were lots of new swear words out on the playground. I had grown up in the ‘oh so proper’ Eastern Suburbs of Sydney. It brought many a strange look from my mother when I would go home and ask her what certain words meant!)

Why am I writing all this now, here in this blog?

I learnt a lot about teaching that year, but when I look back, it was also a year that brought many challenges and learning experiences for me as a person. My ideals, my beliefs , my way of looking at people who were different – these were pushed and shaped and re-shaped, challenged and questioned. My dreams were tested, my visions given more practical outworkings! It was in many ways a year of living dangerously.

I want to have fresh dreams and visions for this year. I want to learn and be challenged right where I am. I want to be open to God’s call and step out into the year full of anticipation (and some fear!).

Teaching

Yesterday I received a letter from an ex-student of mine. Today, while I was out shopping, I met an ex-student, who I hadn’t seen for a long time, and we talked for quite a while. Last week I had coffee with a couple of ex-students.

Several things come to mind as I think about this;

I am so blessed in the job I do – I learn so much, I receive so much joy, I gain so much wisdom and so many friendships from the students I teach.

It is only by giving a little of ourselves that we receive and I receive so much from the little I give. Last year at a Conference in Darwin I heard a woman talk about the importance of sharing ourselves with the young people we teach. I have learnt how true that is.

Sometimes it is hard to be vulnerable with students – to apologise, to say you got it wrong, to give a bit of yourself that seems to fall on deaf ears. Sometimes it is easy to want to pull back - to exercise power instead of humility, to teach them rather than learn with them.

It is easier to share with some students than with others. Then I remember that some students find it hard to get on with me too!!!

Over and over again my passion for writing has been re-ignited by students. They have challenged me, hounded me, expected much from me, and so often I have taken up my pen (or opened my computer) because I know I can’t expect them to write if I don’t! They are always so generous with their critiquing of my writing!

I am so blessed in the job I do!

As a new year begins I am reminded that there will be new students to get to know, new students to learn to love and appreciate. Sometimes I find that hard, I just want to stick to the ones I already know. Then I think about all the joy and learning and marking and worrying I will miss out on.

It has been good catching up with ex-students in the holidays. Each one of them spurs me on to keep going into this year of living dangerously.

I thought it would be realistic, with all the other projects I have in mind, to write a new post once a week. That seemed realistic. Yet, here I am again! It wasn't my plan, but as the bus headed down the hill, and I caught that first glimpse of the sea, the blog wrote itself - words pushing and shoving each other in my mind wanting to be arrnaged on a page.
It is always by the sea that my words are set free, and it was no different this morning. I am reminded that I need to free the words to come whenever they want, not constrained by my schedule.
This morning as the train was sitting near Macdonald Town waiting to arrive at Redfern I marvelled at the intricate track structures, of all the complexity and structure need for my simple journey. My personality hurrays the structure, clings to it, delights in it. However, I also know that beyond the structure is boundless creativity.
I had better actually share what was on my mind at the beach this morning.......

It's that first sight of the sea - even when I know exactly when and where that will be. It's the white toss of the waves, the sea sparkle, the whiff of salt. There's no time to think of yesterday's worries, of tomorrow's busyness. The sea calls attention to the joy of today.
I wrote a poem several years ago sitting in the same cafe I am having breakfast in this morning,

Bronte Beach December 2004

And I didn’t feel like crying

As the sand wedged between my toes

And the water crept up my pants

As the sun gently caressed my hair

And the wind played around my face

I looked to the ocean

The foam danced on the waves

Pounding into the rocks carved by millions of years

The swell, in line with my breathing, rose and fell

As the current swelled over and under the crashing waves.

Walking, thinking, dreaming

The world sparkling around me

I knew the ocean had caught the tears

And flung them away into the deep

And that same feeling is still here now - it's the seduction of the ocean.

Sitting, eating ricotta hotcakes, an almost empty latte beside me, I am reminded, also, of the danger of the ocean. It's beauty draws me constantly. I love its wildness, its refusal to comply with 'wave regulations'. I love its power. However, I am aware of its danger. So what does all thsi mean in my year of living dangerously? It's a good analogy really. Dangerous places can also be places of peace and safety.

I had been thinking this morning on the train that maybe this year was about having the courage to find the safe places and to trust them (or Him really, as my only really safe place is God).

Well that's as far as the thoughts went today!

Another Year

Last year I learnt a lot about the words 'thanks' and 'joy', so as I approached 2012 I thought I'd ask God to show me some new words that might challenge me through the coming year. The words that have come are 'living dangerously'. They weren't what I expected and over the last few days I have wondered what they might mean.
Having reached the age when many of my friends are retiring, I have instead felt that I am just taking hold of all life has to offer. I have felt on the threshold of new things. At first I thought this might mean a new job or place to live but I think it is more about where I am now and what I am presently doing.
In anticipating a year of 'living dangerously' my first move is to create a blog, allowing others to be on the journey with me. For me this is dangerous enough at present!
When these words came to me the other day, I was reminded of a poem I wrote late last year which seems relevant. I will sign off with the poem.

Today, the first day
of the rest
of life
Yesterday was
Tomorrow will be...

Today stands
full of grace
full of blessing
freely given
waiting to be had...

I stand on the threshold of
today
as light filters through the
dark of night
I watch it spread...

And am reminded of
God's grace
waiting to fill my life today
waiting for me to experience it
acknowledge it, catch it, so I can
pass it on to others...

I stand with toes on
the threshold of today
why hesitate to jump into this
day of grace
day of blessings...

Why hesitate to fling myself into the
arms of God, He
who would catch the pain
feel the heartache of today
and with grace and blessing
bring joy..

I somersault into today
letting go of self
falling into God.