Blog - Page 29 of 62 - Sacred Healing of Grief Wounds

Remembering a Very Special Teacher

Remembering a very special teacher emerged as I started thinking about my scholastic experience. There were ups and downs, but a few teachers really stand out. Today I’m going to tell you about my English teacher from high school, Miss Barbara Clark.

Remembering a Very Special Teacher

First Impressions Aren’t Everything

She certainly looked different than my previous teachers. Her dress was more sophisticated and her size couldn’t be ignored that first day of school over 50 years ago. Yet soon, her words and her smile were all I noticed. As a serious student, I appreciated her innovation. Rather than face the prospect of boring Beowulf in senior English literature, she convinced the curriculum coordinator to offer specialized classes. I quickly signed up for Creative Writing, Humanities, and Contemporary Authors.

Innovation Offered Me a Keen Interest

Although prior to AP classes, these college prep class choices were probably more fun. Can you imagine receiving a grade for reading your favorite author and writing an essay? I chose Ray Bradbury. Although there was a requirement for the number of books or short stories to read, I easily exceeded it as I read all I could find in the school library and the city library within the time period prior to composing my report.

And Miss Clark took us on field trips in Humanities. Architecture as art was the subject of a trip to Tampa, Florida. She opened our minds and hearts to the hidden significance of a rose window in an historic Episcopal church, pointing out other stained glass art as a method to teach scripture to parishioners during the Middle Ages. The knowledge I acquired in her classes enabled me to ace tests for college credit at Polk Community College (Polk State College now) in both Humanities and English.

Sometimes it Takes Time to Bear Fruit

Creative Writing was my first experience with the concept of the power of words. It sparked a hidden talent that smoldered until I found my voice in Julie Colvin’s May 2015 Wellness and Writing Retreat in Sedona, AZ forty-four years later. An exploration of my published works will give you more insight into my life journey between these writing experiences.

While augmenting my memory with research for today’s article, I found another student who admired Miss Clark, Wendi Wooddell. Wendi graduated nearly a decade later than I. She also went on to college where she chose journalism as a way to feed her love of literature. However, when Wendi graduated, the State of Florida was begging for teachers. Although teaching was not her expectation, Wendi applied for an English teacher vacancy at Winter Haven High School. Since she didn’t have any teaching classes during college, she went through her stash of handouts from Miss Clark to plan that first year as a teacher. As her knowledge of teaching increased, Wendi continued to use her stash of gold from Miss Clark, further validated through professional education and district in-service classes.

Excellence Fosters More Excellence

Wendi went on to excel during her 33-yr career at WHHS. Like Miss Clark had in 1991, Wendi also was awarded the English Teacher of the Year by the Florida Council of Teachers of English in 2010. That led to her receiving the Polk County Teacher of the Year, also in 2010. Finally, in 2011, she received a National Teacher of Excellence Award from the National Council on Teachers of English. In contrast, Wendi felt her highest honor came during her retirement party in 2016 when Winter Haven High School named a building after her.

And Your Favorite Teacher?

These are just two stories of the positive impact Miss Barbara Clark had on her students. How many more examples are out there? I’d love to hear about your remembering a very special teacher in the comments below.

Love from a life-long learner,
Dawn

Finding the Right Mother’s Day Card

Finding the right Mother’s Day card has given me a headache in past years, especially if I waited too long and the selection was getting sparse. This year is different.

A Chance Meeting

Earlier this week, I was in the Hallmark aisle at Publix, selecting a Mother’s Day card for Mom. As I approached the section, I noticed a 30-ish young woman who seemed mildly exasperated.

“Sometimes it’s hard to find the right one,” I said.

”Yeah. My mom is a Strong Mother. All these gushing messages don’t ring true for me.”

”Don’t I know it!”

”The Strong Mother cards are near the bottom,” she added.

We said goodbye behind our colorful, handmade masks and I started my quest.

A Strong Mother

Her phrase, a strong mother, had made an impression. Rather than feeding a judgement about her mother, she had given our shared reality a positive spin.

Now I was in a different mood, focused on the best thing about my relationship with my mother. Laughter. We share a lot of wholesome, good-natured, joyful, loving, laughter. It was easy to find a funny card to make us both smile.

How Did My Mood Change?

Finding the right Mother’s Day card is a shared experience, especially among women. That was evident when the lady on the card aisle had two cards in her hand; one for her mother and one for her mother-in-law. In this shared energy, we were both open to share our feelings.

Be open to accept positive energy

Additionally, I have taken many small steps toward forgiveness in regards to Mom. She did the best she could do. I did the best I could do as a human being and a mother. And you are doing the best you can do.

Forgiveness of others opens up forgiveness of yourself

Finally, realize that forgiveness is incremental in nature. The relationship between a mother and her children is complex, taking many small steps to unravel until the last trace of hurt and anger are gone. Along the way, find ways to bring joy into the relationship right now.

Live in this moment with joy

Enjoy Yourself!

Whether or not you are a mother, you deserve happiness everyday, including Mother’s Day. Start the day with some deep, cleansing breaths and welcome joy into your life. Regardless of who raised you, thank your birth mother for bringing you into the world. Then continue to thank her or whomever cared for you… They helped you arrive where you are today.

If this is just too hard, take one step toward forgiveness by writing out your feelings on paper. Keep writing until you feel better, until the tears come less, until your body says, “That’s enough for today.” Repeat this tomorrow.. or next week.. whatever feels right to you.

Love and blessings,
Dawn

When You Were a Kid

Do you remember when you were a kid? Life was simple. Make your parents happy and your world was happy. But was it?

When You Were a Kid

The Neighborhood Kids

We lived in the midst of a 10-acre orange grove, sited on a lake. There were no nearby neighbors, no neighborhood kids, except one year when a family rented a nearby Florida cracker house, nestled between grapefruit trees, native oaks and the lakeshore. By chance, we heard the laughter of children playing on the clay road leading straight to the answer to our loneliness. Of course, before we could even meet them, Mom had to visit their mother.

Permission to play was granted and after a tentative shyness, we were soon scrambling up trees, playing on the natural trampoline of a tangled mess of flame vine, and swimming in the lake.

My sister and I were expert tree climbers, scrambling up a giant grapefruit tree together most of the time. With our new neighbors, we joined them to climb a humongous live oak tree close to their home. Although the bark was rough, we attacked it like a gang of pirates, intent on claiming a treasure chest. We weren’t afraid of strangers, or snakes, or anything else then.

The joy of having neighborhood kids to play with was short lived. Within a few months, they moved on. Life was back to playing.. and fighting with my sister.

Although my older sister, was someone I looked up to, yet I still preferred the natural world. One of my favorite actives was watching a giant velvet ant walk across the Florida sand. Isn’t she beautiful? Dad taught me to be careful. Her stinger was a real danger. Conversely, my sister followed other pursuits, like reading. A lot.

Playtime for Two Again

Television was in the toddler stage and we were allowed one program in the afternoon after school, Howdy Doody. Is “It’s Howdy Doody Time” playing in your head? Puppets didn’t appeal to me, yet I loved Howdy Doody. Perhaps because it was the only choice. Limits. There’s something to be said for simplicity.

So what else did we do? We played silly active games like ‘Hide and Seek’. We ran. If it rained, we played board games. Monopoly taught us about strategy, high finance, and sibling hierarchy where my sister always got the race car.

We’re Not Kids Anymore

Let’s Find Ways to Play

How did you play when you were a kid? I had a lot of alone time, so it’s easy to slip into childhood pursuits like exploring the yard, looking for caterpillars. Perhaps you enjoy visiting a public park.

Fun with Grandkids

Playing with grandchildren is another way to engage in play. Furthermore, you open them up to other types of play even their parents don’t know about.

The most precious gift we can give is time. My grandchildren are far away. Since I can’t share simple playtime, I write to them. By hand. Of course, I’ve learned that cursive handwriting is considered archaic. As a result, I practice my handwriting in a printed style, sharing glimpses into my life.

Other Ways to Play

Gone fishing. When you were a kid, the fish were plentiful, easy to catch. Yet, wasn’t it fun to learn how to cast? I remember testing myself. “Can I get close to that half-submerged log? There’s a bass lurking down there.” That was fun. It didn’t matter whether there was a fish on the line. It was just fun.

Remembering Leads to Doing

I invite you to find one way to play this week. Just one. Let us know what you’re going to do for fun in the comments or contact me.

To answer my original question, “Yes! Life was and remains fun.”

Now I think I’ll go find some bugs…

Warmly,
Dawn