One Thing at a Time, My Friends!

Today was mostly one of “those” days.  You know the kind…you hit the ground running, keep your chin barely above the water, and fix your eye firmly on your goal.  In my case, today’s goal was to get out of school at 3:00 sharp to drive to Post Falls in order and enjoy Chad’s and my Christmas present to each other: 90 minutes of a heavenly massage.   School is out at 2:45, and that would only give me 15 minutes to pack up my stuff, close up my classroom, and get out to my car.  This might sound easy, but trust me, it’s not.  Inevitably several students have questions or need something, or I get waylaid at the photocopier.  But today I managed to get everything tackled by 3:00 straight up.  Then I walked out to the snowy parking lot…that’s when the fun began. 

Our parking lot is a giant box.  Staff park their cars along the edges of the box, and the traffic moves in the narrow alley behind our cars.  I should mention that it snowed quite heavily all afternoon, and by the time I exited the glass doors I could see my little Subaru beneath a blanket of snow.  But I also saw gridlock.  Complete, total gridlock.  A string of cars trying to pick up students snaked the entire lot, and my car was inexorably stuck between the fence and the bumper-to-bumper cars.  I tried to keep a positive outlook.  After all, the appointment wasn’t until 3:30, and it usually only takes 15 minutes to drive there.  So, I grabbed my snow scraper and cleared off my car.  Then I cleared off my friend’s car next to mine.  Traffic had not budged in that time.  I was doomed.   

It was almost 3:20 when some kind soul allowed me to back into the traffic string.  I waved my hand gratefully out the window and proceeded to inch my way toward the exit.  My heart was jumping by this time.  I didn’t have a phone with me, and all I could think was:  Just keep positive.  You’ll get out of this in no time.  By 3:30 I finally emerged onto the roadway.  Yep, you’re late.  But it is what it is.   Traffic was slow-going, and rightfully so.  The roads were snow-covered and slippery.  I made my way onto the road and proceeded to sit through three green lights at two separate intersections.  By the time I merged onto the highway I had to practice deliberate breathing to calm my nerves.  I hate being late.  And I knew Chad would be worrying about me with the road conditions what they were. 

As I made my way to Post Falls I thought about two other bombshells we’ve been hit with this week:  My Subaru has a blown head gasket.  That will cost us right around $2,000.  On top of that, the axle and front brakes needed to be replaced, which we just shelled out $600 to pay for.  Oh, and our 16 year old cat will have radiation therapy for his thyroid in a few weeks.  That cost?  A cool $900.  The entire drive, as I watched someone spin off the roadway into the median, I sorted our savings and paychecks like that magic cup shuffling game.  And I was woefully late for our Christmas present. 

But I thought about something Chad and I discovered the other day.  He had called me from work; the railroad was a disaster and Chad had only one crew.  He was so frustrated he called me just to blow off some steam.  I told him, “Just do what you can.  That’s all you can do.  One thing at a time and you’ll kick its butt.”  He came home the next day feeling proud of himself for doing a great job at work despite the obstacles.  Two days later we found out about my Subaru’s repairs, and as we were driving to pick up the car to take it for the brake and axle work (and while I was worrying about money), Chad said, “Well, we will just fix what is necessary and leave the little stuff for later.  One thing at a time, right?”   And he’s absolutely right.  Trying to take all that in at once was creating overwhelmed panic inside of me.  But taking it in small doses really helped to keep me from feeling like life was trying to eat us for diner.

So today, as I made my way along the snowy Idaho roads trying to get to my appointment, I reminded myself just to take each moment as it comes.  It’s pointless to worry about the things that I can’t change or that don’t really matter, anyway.  I arrived 20 minutes late, but in the end I still enjoyed a fantastic Christmas massage.  After eating Chinese food and watching an episode of Love Boat in our warm, comfy bed, I feel ready to soak up the rest of the Christmas season.    

May you have a blessed Christmas filled with all the joy and wonder of the season!

Hitting the Reset Button....

It’s the Christmas season, one of my favorite times of the whole year.  It’s a time to get my thoughts sorted out and my perspective realigned.  There’s nothing better than crisp, winter air, a nativity scene and decorations around the house, a tree that my husband and I trekked through the woods to find, and multi-colored lights glowing on the branches to reset the brain and the heart.  Throw some Bing Crosby or Burl Ives in the CD player and some hot cocoa in a penguin-shaped mug (thanks, Ashleigh!), and you’ve pretty much put me on Cloud Nine.  And don’t even get me started on the candlelight service at church….it’s the proverbial cherry on top. 

I hope as Christmas approaches you can find your own sense of peace and calm.  It’s hard to come by these days, but it is so worth the effort to carve out time to quiet the world and focus on what really matters.  

To that end, here is a poem that captures a little slice of Heaven here on earth.  It’s called a “found poem.”  Take your favorite piece of writing (or a magazine article, news article, short story….), cut out your favorite words and phrases, and then “find” your poem by piecing the words and phrases into a poetic structure.  It is somewhat like those fun magnetic poetry kits you can buy, but it is your own prose repurposed.  This poem might feel familiar, and that’s because I “found” it in my essay I shared with you a few weeks back. 

So I encourage you to grab a hot mug of tea, turn on those Christmas lights and music, and enjoy the peace of the season!

“December 12, Kidd Island Bay”

Lights from houses along Kidd Island shore

reflect on the smooth winter black water.
I’ve seen these soft expectant clouds before;
this gray December sky is pregnant with snow.

As noise in my mind fades, small snowflakes fall.

In a few hours fat flakes pile up,
the world outside my window becomes calm,
and I am astonished at the silence.

Snow continues to fall.  Tree branches bend

toward the ground, and white ribbons drape in waves
on the splintered rungs of the split-rail fence.
This silence I hadn’t noticed in some time.

Sound seems to settle into mounds of snow
and become lost.  Ice slides from the metal roof
of the blue cabin down the road, and though
dark, on this night my eyes can finally see.

Final Words...

I saw a news headline a few weeks ago about a Russian plane that went down after some technical troubles.  According to the report, the last word the pilot said was “circle.”  Beyond the obvious tragedy, I was surprised that this story stuck with me for several days.  The thing that intrigued me the most was the concept of a person’s last words.  What will my own last words be?  Will they be eloquent?  Ordinary?  Filled with meaning?  Filled with humor?  I really hope it’s something worth repeating. 

I became curious about other last words, and found some good ones.  Here they are:

·         “We are running on line north and south.”  Amelia Earhart made this final statement during her fateful flight over the Pacific Ocean. 

·         “It's very beautiful over there.”  Thomas Edison reportedly said this to his wife just before his death.  It is apparently unclear if he was speaking about a vision he was having of Heaven, or if he was referring to the view from his window.

·         “Goodnight my kitten.” Ernest Hemingway’s final words to his wife.  Sweet words spoken by a man who wrote one of my favorite books:  The Old Man and the Sea.  Sadly, he committed suicide, which makes these words bittersweet.

·         “This is funny.”  According to history, Doc Holliday spoke these words in reaction to irony.  He had expected to die a manly death, but instead died of tuberculosis.  His boots were taken off and he was reportedly examining his bootless feet.

·         “Well, I've had a happy life.”  English writer and literary critic William Hazlitt said these simple, yet profound words.  I rather like them.

·         “What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”  Crowfoot, 1890.  This chief of the Blackfoot First Nation tribe in Canada said these words.  They are poetic, poignant, and profound.  Man’s life is fleeting, but it is also beautiful.

·         “Happy.”  Italian painter and architect Raphael seems to have summed it all up in one, single word. 

·         “The best of all is: God is with us.” Methodist founder and English preacher John Wesley said these very true words.

·         “Jesus, I love you. Jesus, I love you.”  The final words of Mother Teresa speak to what was first in her life as seen through her actions.

This little sampling of final words has me pondering…what shall I say?  I want my final words to be reflective of what is most important and meaningful in my life.  I think I should start planning now.  I’m not a very pithy or humorous person, so I’m going to have to lean towards poetic words filled with imagery and symbolism.  All week I’ve tried to figure out what my final word (singular) would be, but let’s face it, I’m a girl of many words.  So, like any good teacher, I plan to craft a final sentence.  I may have to edit it several times over the years, polish up the diction and punctuation, but if I start now, I might have something pretty profound when the time comes.

What might your imagined final words reveal about you?