Go Ahead and Sparkle

One day when I was in 9th grade, I had a Study Hall on my schedule.  I didn't want to go sit in a boring study hall, so I went over to the empty music room and practiced my cello instead.  I was later called to the vice principal's office.  He said to me with a stern look, "It seems you weren't in study hall today."  I replied with disinterest, "Yeah, I skipped it."  He lit up, delighted no battle would be necessary, and said with a triumphant smile, "You catch on quick!"  He wrote me a detention slip and sent me on my way.

Detention was identical to Study Hall; it was in the same room and everything.

Cello, Pen and Ink, circa 1989

Another day, not long after, I rode the bus to school one morning, decided I had better things to do with my time, and proceeded to walk home.  I lingered in the park for awhile before walking the 5 miles home down a rural road.  (I didn't get detention, though-- just a bewildered conversation with the principal, who had just recently mailed me a hand-signed letter congratulating me on winning an essay contest.)

The Girl Who Wouldn't Work to Her Potential, Graphite, 1989

I spent my days at school staring out the window, waiting for them to end, so I could go to the library and read about the things that actually interested me, or go home and record myself singing in the stairwell, teaching myself to sing more on pitch, or set up still lifes on the kitchen table to photograph, or write stories on the obsolete electric typewriter my mom had brought home from work, or stay up half the night listening to music and making things.  I really had so many better, more important things to do, things that made me sparkle all over. 
 

Still Life with fancy bed sheet drapery, circa 1988

Some people mesh well with school, and some people love the structure of being told what to read, and some people are quite content to follow directions and get good results, and most people don't have a choice anyway, so they might as well make the best of it (and I believe I could have been happier there with a bit more support).

I am doing everything possible to support the Sparkle in my children.  It's pretty clear what lights them up. Who knows, maybe one day they'll want to go to school and that will light them up. I'd be rather surprised, though.  They don't seem the Study Hall type. They're more the "let's hike 5 miles barefoot!" type.

Hiking Barefoot

After 18 years of Formal Education (some at great financial expense) and another couple decades of working at jobs and developing social skills and [still] learning to parent, what do I do now?  I'll tell you:  I do.....exactly what I did when I was a kid, when I got out of holding school for the day.  I take photographs, I paint, I sing, I commune with plants and trees, I make music, I cook, I read, I write, I learn, I live.

I sparkle.

I really do feel I'm the same person I was when I was a kid.  I'm older, wiser, far more mature and experienced... but I'm the same basic person, with the same sparks.  I think I can reasonably surmise that my kids, right now, at 6 and 8, are essentially the same people they'll be at 40.  I can help them be Who They Are, or I can send them on a long and circuitous goose chase, before they finally find their way back again.

Ferns in the Woods, circa 1991

 Sometimes life doesn't allow you to do what you want to do all day-- especially when you're an adult with a family to support.  I've worked really difficult, low-paying jobs to pay medical bills, to try to get health insurance, etc-- and who knows, I may need to again at some point.

When you're a kid, though-- the only time in your life when you don't have so much responsibility--  
 instead of practicing for being an adult, (and you really don't have to practice-- life keeps throwing stuff at you until you figure it out) being a kid is the time to practice Sparkling With All Your Might-- so when you grow up and have to Deal with the Hard Times, you still remember how to Sparkle, in the middle of it all.

So, please, go right ahead and loosen your grip.  Don't worry about your kids being able to cope with Disappointment and Sitting Still and Necessary Boringness.  Life has it covered.  No problem.  Instead, why not  practice some courage and optimism and .... Sparkle?

A new box of crayons for my birthday, 1976.  Sparkle!!!

Awesome Quest 2011

Weekly Awesome Quest Challenge #1:

Part of being Awesome for me is pushing myself out of my comfort zone. My comfort zone sure is comfortable, but not terribly enjoyable. There are a lot of things I hold myself back from. How can you take a step out of that zone this week? What have you been holding yourself back from? 


... I hold myself back from letting anybody in public see me practicing juggling, guitar, or French-- three things I want to practice frequently when I am out hanging around waiting for my kids somewhere, but am completely embarrassed to do so, because I'm awful at all of them.  In the next week, I'll do one of them, even if other people are around.  Yikes!

My Watery Balloon of Disappointment

I suffered a disappointment the other day.  It surprised me how acutely I felt it; it filled me up like a fat water balloon and came pouring out my eyes.  

My kids suffer disappointments all the time-- a balloon pops, the rain falls when they were counting on it to shine, the cheese puffs are all gone-- it happens constantly.  I suffer fewer disappointments, and feel them less intensely, most of the time.  Every now and then, though, it pulls the rug right out from under me.

I noticed how, when I was filled up with disappointment, I was unable to listen to my kids, or say "Yes" to much of anything.  I needed to finish feeling the thing I was feeling.  I needed a little space to work through it.  It took me a few hours.

It reminds me of the many times when my kids scream and wail in despair over the things that feel rotten to them, the game that was lost because s/he forgot to save progress, or whatever.  Sometimes their dad and I come up against the intensity of it, and find it unreasonable, and it's hard to take. 

But yes, we all really do need the space to feel what we feel, as long as we need to feel it.  It is unreasonable.  It has nothing to do with reason. 

When my son is in the throes of that feeling, how can I expect him to get over it and just "get along" with his sister?  When my daughter is in the throes of that feeling, where do I get off telling her not to be "so dramatic"?  It's hard for everybody in the world to be giving and kind when their Watery Balloon of Disappointment comes Pouring Out their Eyes.  Imagine how hard it is for a little kid!

I guess I'm glad I felt so rotten and sad the other day.