School Day

School Day

I was checking out the comments the other day on a You Tube channel I follow. The channel is all about a young family who have moved to North Carolina to homestead. They are rebuilding the existing trailer home on their property, and are attempting to do this debt-free. Ben, the owner, had laid some insulation in the floor incorrectly, and had received quite a bit of mean spirited criticism.

In an attempt to encourage him this comment caught my eye:

“Every day is a school day...don’t beat yourself up.”

Mat Milton 

As I thought about my over thirty years in the classroom it made me realize that literally every day my students were learning something new. I was always teaching them something they didn’t know.

It made me a little jealous of having that opportunity on a daily basis. You see sometimes as we get older we start to think that maybe we already pretty much know most everything we need to know to get along in the life we have chosen. 

But the truth is that there is ALWAYS something new to learn, and we should be open to that learning. As students, making mistakes is part of the learning process. I remember how many dot-to-dot worksheets I messed up until the pattern of number finally clicked in my six year old brain. 

Never attempting in fear of messing up is the real tragedy, not the actual mistake. I like thinking about each day being a brand new opportunity for me to learn something new. 

And like Mat Milton reminds us, if you stumble along the way, “don’t beat yourself up.”

Free Range

Free Range

Up until about nine months ago what I knew about chickens could probably have fit in a pot with a bunch of noodles. I had never been around a live chicken, and knew nothing about them except that they laid eggs. 

Now I don’t know if my daughter’s chickens are pretty typical or not, but their antics sure have brought a lot of joy and laughter to my life. Perhaps, some of this is due to the fact that I’m not responsible for cleaning up their poop off the front and back porch. 

 “The girls”as I like to call them are five strong, and basically are egg laying pets. Brittany actually raised them from baby chicks last Easter, and they began their young lives in a dog kennel with a heat lamp in the garage. They eventually graduated to a Tractor Supply chicken coop, which met an untimely demise during a particularly strong storm last fall. 

Thank God the girls were able to fly the coop to safety, and only one appeared to have maybe hurt her foot. As of today they are all accounted for and seem to be doing well. 

What I absolutely love about these girls is their desire to be a part of the family. Now this is probably not really true, but boy it sure seems so. 

They are free range chickens, which basically means they have the freedom to roam around anywhere on the property they want. What I find particularly comical is anytime we are all in the backyard, they easily make their way through the fence to join us. 

It doesn’t matter what we are doing they have to be in the middle of it. In fact, I’ve even witnessed one of the girls running at brake neck speed just to catch up with Chuck and Will as they made their way across the yard. 

They peck about searching for their next meal, and make their way around the house backyard to front. Along the way they might chase after my poodle Cooper or my daughter’s cat Tuffy. Occasionally they have been known to peck at Brittany or the boys.

This past weekend I brought them a leftover Halloween pumpkin that refused to rot. Along with some unsalted crackers they made a meal of both, and quickly finished up the treat.  

As I looked around the backyard watching the boys swing, I couldn’t help but laugh to see a backyard full of chickens, two dogs and a feisty cat whose has decided that Cooper is the perfect playmate. I wish I could say that Cooper felt the same.

Just across the fence out in the pasture the sounds of sheep and cows can be heard, while two horses munch contentedly on hay. It was a beautiful day yesterday, and I got a real kick out of those extremely curious and brazen chickens, something you just don’t find in the suburbs. 

Dear Diary

Dear Diary

Did you ever have a diary as a child? I did, and what I remember most about it was that it came with a tiny lock and key. What a wonderful way to write down all your secrets as a ten year old knowing they were kept safely locked away in your diary. 

In my late teen years I started keeping a journal. I went through a poetry stage where I wrote free verse about the angst of adolescence. I doubt it was actually anything I might want to share at an open mike night, but I fancied myself to have some talent. 

It was during my twenties that I regularly kept a journal. My twenties were a tough decade for me. My mother had passed away unexpectedly from cancer, my father remarried, and while my friends were getting married, and having children, I was still single. 

A journal was a way to express my feelings, and help me make some sense out of them. Sometimes, though, it was just a way to indulge in my sadness. 

I find it interesting that decades later I’m writing a blog, which actually is a digital journal of sorts. 

Sometimes when something is on my mind, and I can’t seem to stop ruminating on it, I find writing it down is the best way to move on. What is kind of sad, though, is that there are times I go back and read a journal entry from years ago, and I still find I’m dealing with the same issue. 

Why can we be so complicated at times? Or is just those unlucky few cursed with the “gift” of analysis?

If you’ve never been one to keep a journal or a diary, it can be a way of recording your life for posterity’s sense. Kinda of like a written scrapbook of what’s happening in your life at a certain time. 

Do you keep a journal, and has it helped you in anyway?

“Paper is more patient than people.”

Anne Frank

How Thinking You’re Not an Expert Isn’t a Good Thing

How Thinking You’re Not an Expert Isn’t a Good Thing

When you think about the term expert, what comes to mind?

If anyone were to ask you about your area of expertise what would your answer be?

I used to think that being an expert meant that you had to know everything there was to know about a subject. If this was the case then I was far from being an expert at anything. Of course, who could really know that much? Isn’t there always something more to learn?

It wasn’t until I read the actual definition of expert that I changed my mind.

An expert is: 

“A person who has a comprehensive and authoritative knowledge of or skill in a particular area.”

When I changed my thinking from knowing everything to knowing enough about a subject it made me think that I might have enough comprehensive knowledge about a few things to be considered an expert.

At the end of my teaching career I would have considered myself an expert at teaching second grade. Was there more to be learned, of course, but between my years of experience and my knowledge, I probably knew more about teaching second grade than the majority of the population. 

Now why does any of this really matter at this point in my life? I think it has more to do with what stands in the way of moving forward. Sometimes as I think about that next thing in life I hold back thinking I’m really not qualified to do something else. 

Recently I learned more about my friend, Cheryl Norris, who had switched career paths midstream in her thirties. She had a background in theater, but went on to be an expert in training and development in the nuclear energy field. 

Now how in the world did this happen? Her degree had nothing to do with this field, and yet she went on to start her own consulting firm. What I learned was that what she didn’t know she learned. 

She started with her ability in public speaking, and marketed herself as a consultant. Meanwhile, behind the scenes she learned all she could about each subject she was called upon to present. Did she make mistakes along the way, you bet she did. 

However, remarkably she did not allow this to hold her back. I admire her spirit, her bravery, and her grit. 

I on the other hand constantly hold back, or perhaps a better way of putting it is, I hide my light under a bushel. If I have anything of value to share I determine that because I’m not an “expert” I should just keep quiet. 

One of my favorite pastimes for the last ten years has been reading and taking notes. My inquiring mind can’t seem to get enough information. Have I acquired a comprehensive knowledge of anything?

I sure have. 

So where to go with this tidbit of information? Sadly my friend, Cheryl, passed away this past week after battling ALS. As I think about the legacy that we all leave, intended or not, it makes me realize how short life really is. 

Cheryl you have inspired me through your life to take those chances, to make those mistakes, and to make a difference even to just one person. 

What do you have comprehensive knowledge of that you could share with the world? I think we all are experts in our own way. 

Rest In Peace sweet Cheryl. 

Self-Editing

Self-Editing

I came across a term the other day that described me to a tee. 

Self-editing. 

I’m a champion self-editor. In fact I’m sooo good at it I probably could win some prestigious award if there was such a thing. 

I self-edit regularly as I go through my day. It looks something like this:

 I’ll wake up, and think about my day. If I have nothing officially planned then I let my mind wander for a minute or two about what the possibilities could be?

I’ll start to map out what sounds like a fun day, except then I’ll talk myself out of it. 

“How about coffee at that really cute coffee shop in downtown Coppell?”

“No, I’d probably have to resort to cream and sugar instead of my creamer, and that would just be way too many points. I think I’ll just fix coffee at home.”

“How about a trip to Half-Price Books?”

“No, I really don’t need anymore books. Look at all the books I haven’t read yet.”

Although, these are relatively minor examples I do the same thing when it comes to things like dreams for the future. I talk myself out of each and everyone. 

This need to self-edit is your inner critic speaking. Danny Gregory in his book Art Before Breakfast puts it this way:

“These voices-the inner critic, the inner nag, the inner pest, the inner jerk, and all the other monsters who try to talk you out of moving forward-are the part of you that is threatened by change and progress.”

Sometimes I think about giving something a chance, but I convince myself that there is no way I could write a book, travel regularly, speak to an audience, or take a writing course. 

I’m not even really sure any of theses ideas are really actually what I want to do, but at this rate I’ll never know,  because I will have talked myself out of each and every one before I allow myself to do any of them. 

Have you found yourself in this predicament? How do you manage your inner critic?