Spiritual Growth | Reflections on the Teche

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Pay Attention

Posted in Spiritual Growth, Teaching, tagged pay attention, Spiritual poetry, spiritual reflection on September 3, 2015| 6 Comments »

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I came home from school the other day with a story. I was helping with car line duty and enjoying two girls who were last to be picked up. I talked to them about their matching green eyes. I teased them that the sugarcane tractor on the highway was coming to pick them up. Then an old car pulled up and inside was an unkempt woman with a scowl on her face. Could this be the mother of these precious children? Her expression never changed as the girls bounded up to the car and greeted her with a cheerful, “Hi, Momma.”

When I told my husband this story, I said, “I judged her.”

He said, “We judge people. We pay attention. And when you are someone who pays attention, you see lots of ugly in the world. If you are paying attention, you also see lots of beauty. The world is both terrible and beautiful.”

I have a wise husband. His words have stayed with me all week.

As I worked with a student who was having trouble writing, I kept making suggestions. “What about this? What about that?” I told him to come to me with his long, sad face,and I simply said, “Can you tell me the truth about why you are not writing?”

He said, “I don’t want to write what you said.”

In my eagerness to “help,” I had actually stifled him.

“I get it. You want to write about your own ideas. Absolutely, that is what you should do.”

I must pay attention. This is my work. This is my vocation. This is my calling.

When I pay attention, I see
The way the setting sun sends a beam down the bayou.
I see colors in the sky (more than just blue),
A shy boy standing near the wall at recess,
Birds on a wire,
The man with a cane wince in pain,
Green-eyed girls,
A teacher’s tired impatience,
Sunflowers in the sunlight,
A driver’s insulting gesture.
I see the good.
I see the bad.
But I don’t stop
paying attention–
this is my endless and proper work.

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Words Matter

Posted in Blogging, Spiritual Growth, tagged Bonnie Kaplan, Wendell Berry, words matter on August 27, 2015| 7 Comments »

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Holly leads the round-up of Spiritual Thursday posts, and she usually tweets out a topic early in the week. This week she told us to write about what is on our hearts.

I am thinking about words, the power of what you say. I am an introvert and as such, I usually think about what I am going to say before I say it, or more likely, think about what I should have said.

Why did I say that? I sounded so arrogant. What must she think of me?

I can mull over a conversation for days. I calm myself with self talk. She probably has totally forgotten about it by now. Don’t worry. Remember you are forgiven.

During Sunday’s sermon, Fr. Matt reminded us that words matter. He told a story of a father and son who when the father was close to dying, they learned to say “I love you” to each other. He continued by giving us 5 things you should say to a loved one who is dying: 1. I love you. 2. I forgive you. 3. Will you forgive me? 4. Thank you. 5. You can go now.

Sometimes when your world grows, your heart grows too. I now have a world of friends through blogging and connecting online with Facebook and Twitter. One of these friends lost her husband this week. I cannot know the grief that Bonnie Kaplan is going through, but I am sure she spoke these important words to her husband. Through her words on her blog, she exposed her breaking heart. Those of us who read her letters to Tuvia on the days from heart failure to death know that she spoke the words that matter.

When someone dies, we are sadly reminded that words do matter. But we should know this every day. Let’s say the words we feel to the ones we love. Don’t wait until tragedy comes. Breathe them out with every breath–I love you, I forgive you, I thank you…every day.

Below is a video posted by Bonnie in which she reads a love poem by ee cummings to Tuvia, “I Carry your Heart.”

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Don’t Forget to Breathe

Posted in Spiritual Growth, tagged Lamaze breath, meditation, spritiual breathing, yoga on August 20, 2015| 1 Comment »

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During an exercise class, the instructor says, “Don’t forget to breathe,” as if you could actually forget. This seems like a silly instruction, but nine times out of ten, I realize at the moment she says it, I am holding my breath.

In yoga, I am learning breath is the most important thing. The teacher says, “Get in tune with the rhythm of your yoga breath.” I place my hands on my belly and feel it rise. Deep breathing relieves the tensions of my day.

Breath control is used to alleviate pain. I had a procedure done recently that required an IV (no worries, I am fine), and the nurse had a hard time finding a vein. That is so painful. I was using my Lamaze breath. The nurse noticed. It’s been almost 25 years since my youngest child was born, but I still remember how to breathe through pain.

In church, we sing a hymn, “Breathe on me, breath of God. Fill me with life anew. That I may love what Thou dost loved, and do what thou wouldst do.”

I believe in the power of breathing. The calm healing that oxygen brings in. Breath moves within me as the spirit moves. Taking in, I call God, “Abba.” Letting go, I say, “Amen.”

Focusing on a mantra, breathing the words that recall God to me, I can be fully present with whatever the stress may be.

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Spiritual Thursday: Is it enough to pray?

Posted in Spiritual Growth, tagged prayer, students on August 13, 2015| 4 Comments »

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Holly invites us to think about our spiritual journey. This week her theme could not have been more appropriate for the beginning of school, praying for our students.

Prayer is not enough. I am in no way discounting prayer. Sometimes it’s all you can do. But there are times when God calls on you to do more. This week was one of those times.

I don’t know why God chose me. I became the confidant of the mother of one of my students. Perhaps it was something I said in a conference with her. Perhaps it was her daughter’s trust in me. Maybe my phone number was the only teacher’s number she had. For whatever reason, I was the one who received her desperate call for help.

Many times over the course of the last few days, I have held my prayer hands pressed against my forehead. “God, give me your strength.”

Sometimes prayer is not enough.

This time I had to act. I had to turn to administrators, authorities, and counselors. I could not do this alone. I had to stay strong to tell her to stay strong. My precious student’s family was falling apart. It was not enough for me to pray. I held her tight. I helped her tell her classmates. I gave her someone to trust, someone to lean on, someone to be her advocate.

Jesus was called “teacher.” Teacher means more than educating a child. A teacher should be a stronghold for her students. She must create a safe environment. She should be open and flexible while respecting policy and authority.

Teaching is an act of the heart. My students become important in my life. Their families are important to me. Their lives are important.

In prayer, we can bring our students close to us, close to God. In action, we can express to each and every child that they matter, their lives matter. Our words should be carefully chosen, spoken with love and kindness. Because someday God may call us to action, to be His voice, and to save a child.

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There is No Plan

Posted in Poetry, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged Enneagram, spiritual journey on June 25, 2015| 10 Comments »

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Yesterday I bought roses at the grocery store. I placed them in a vase. One broke off the stem. My cat is eating another one. This is not part of the plan. The roses were supposed to bring me joy. They were supposed to open up and shine like the sun in my breakfast room. But no.

I could fix this. I could rearrange them. Take out the messed up flowers. Place them away from kitty’s perch.

Mimi wants to eat my roses.

So it is with God’s plan. Roses in a vase that get messed up, fall over, die.

Why do we keep looking for a plan? There isn’t one. Sorry folks. The God that I know and love is not upstairs looking down with his clipboard checking off when I do something that is part of the plan. Nope. Not happening.

My mother gave me a set of CDs of Richard Rohr and Russ Hudson discussing the Enneagram and Grace. What they say about the human condition and God’s part in it makes sense to me. What God is about is transformation. God is already a part of each of us. His spirit is within us all. We are the ones who need to change. We have to sit quietly with God and allow his grace to transform us.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14

Someone I love dearly is in terrible pain. Her illness is not in God’s plan. I cannot accept that excuse. Pain happens. Tragedy happens. A deranged boy can enter a church and kill nine beautiful souls. There is no plan.

We enter the darkness. We enter the tragedy, the sorrow, the pain. There, we find God. Then we can crawl out on the other side. Then we can shine a light. Then we can be the resurrection.

I must make myself humble, the size of a mustard seed. Plant it deep in the soil of God’s love. Then I will grow. I will spread love. I will be transformed.

Rain
with a borrowed line from Kazim Ali “The sky is a bowl of dark water, rinsing your face.”

Blue Jay sings to the rain,
“See you. See you. Come. Come.”

The sky is a bowl of dark water,
The deck covered in crystal glass.

I step outside in the rain.
Let it rinse my face.

Join the bird in a song
that turns to a sad tune.

No matter. My face is wet
with God’s tears. I am the rain.
–Margaret Simon

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When You Laugh

Posted in Spiritual Growth, tagged Laughter, On Being, Sister Simone Campbell, spiritual journey, The Servant Song on June 18, 2015| 6 Comments »

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When you laugh, I’ll laugh with you.
—The Servant Song

I drive the highway south to New Orleans fairly often. There is a bridge overpass that is quite faulty. This used to frustrate me because suddenly my car was bumping up and down jarring me out of whatever thought I was having. Once I was driving this road with my friend Cathy. We were making a day trip to New Orleans to shop for wigs and dresses for the upcoming Berry Queen ball. Already we were in the mood for fun. When the bumping started, I exclaimed my usual ugh!, but when I looked over at Cathy, she was laughing and exaggerating the up and down movement. She says with glee, “I love this bridge!”

My attitude changed totally and ever since, I look forward to the bridge. I remember the fun day we had, the laughter in Cathy’s voice, and the memory of shared joy.

Laughter is like that. Laughter can change a moment of fear and frustration into one of joy and delight. I believe God is all about transforming moments into joy.

Sunset reflection

Today I am at the lake to celebrate my mother’s birthday. My sister and her children are here. There will be lots of talking and sharing and laughing.

On my way here, I listened to a podcast called On Being. The guest was Sister Simone Campbell. You can listen to it here. One of the writing exercises I like to do is turn my notes into a poem. Here is a found poem from Sister Simone.

Walk willing.
Open hands
for the treasure
to hold, not grasp,
willing to share.
Open heart
ready to be broken
by his story,
forever changed.
Make me one part
of the one body
that Paul speaks of.
Wake me up
to do the thing
I am able to do.

One of my favorite folk hymns is The Servant Song. This song expresses the community of Christ and helps me to remember how to be fully present for others on this spiritual journey.

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55 Years: A Legacy

Posted in Gratitude, Spiritual Growth, tagged Episcopal Student Center, legacy, parents on June 11, 2015| 2 Comments »

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My parents, Dot and John, with my youngest daughter.

When Holly posted that the theme for this week’s Spiritual Thursday would be legacy again, my attitude about this word had improved. I realized that today is June 11th, my parents’ 55th wedding anniversary. Somehow we don’t tend to talk about someone’s legacy while they are still living, but I want to challenge that idea today. My parents are thankfully still living and healthy. Every day I am grateful for that. They do not live near me, so I have to rely on phone calls. In fact, my mother was the one who talked me into doing Facebook. She wanted to know what I was doing. Funny, I don’t think she counted on this whole blogging thing, though.

I could write about the legacy of talent; My father is an artist while my mother is a musician. Or I could write about how they parented us to be ourselves. Or I could write about the great flood of 1979 that tested our family as well as our community. All of these would make good blog posts. However, today, since it’s Spiritual Thursday, I want to write about my parents as spiritual directors.

My parents met at the Episcopal Student Center on the campus of LSU. My mother was the daughter of an Episcopal priest. I am what they call a “cradle Episcopalian.” I was baptized by my grandfather at a mere 3 weeks old. At that time our country was involved in the Korean War, and there was a possibility Dad would be sent to Korea. He ended up being sent to Fort Polk, Louisiana.

From my birth, the Episcopal church has been a stronghold in my life. I even followed in my parents’ footsteps to LSU and the Episcopal Student Center where I met my husband. You could say there was something in the water, but in reality, the church was a place where I felt at home. And when you feel at home somewhere, you can be the best you. Today, my husband and I are faithful parishioners at his home church, The Episcopal Church of the Epiphany.

When I visit, we can be in the kitchen or on the porch where we look out at the lake and talk for hours about spiritual theology. I value these discussions. My mother and I talk about the Enneagram. This is a interesting theory around personalities. My father will discuss theories about time and space, death and resurrection. His ideas fascinate me.

While the church is my stronghold, my parents have been and continue to be my spiritual directors. I found this picture of their church holding a can drive and creating a labyrinth. They are there in the circle of worshippers like they are with me in the circle of my spirit.

Labyrinth of cans raises awareness of hunger.

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Legacy

Posted in Spiritual Growth, tagged Audrey Assad, legacy, Spiritual poetry, word play poem on June 4, 2015| 5 Comments »

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Every week Holly invites us to write about our spiritual journey. This week’s theme is Leaving a Legacy. Too much pressure if you think about it, which is exactly what I do after she tweets out the theme. Carol wrote about leaving a digital footprint on Sunday. I told her that I don’t like to think about this because it’s intimidating. What if I’m not “leaving a legacy.” I am very good at assigning guilt to myself. I do much better in this digital platform when I just write what’s on my mind. When I am true to myself, most readers respond in a positive way and with a connection. This is more important to me than leaving a legacy.

Which leads me to playing with the word in a word play poem.

Legacy is a lofty word
leaning on me like
the preacher gripping the pulpit
pointing its accusing finger.

Legacy leaves me looking
too long, hoping to see
what they see, to know the secret
of a life well lived.

With its sharp turned back,
Legacy asks “Why aren’t you scrapbooking?”
Folding pictures into decorative pages,
making memories into 3 by 5 cards.

I’d like my legacy to be a flower
shrouded in beauty with strong scent
pressed between the pages of a favorite book
waiting there for you to find.

–Margaret Simon

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Comforting Silence

Posted in Poetry, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged meditation, silence, Spiritual poetry on May 28, 2015| 7 Comments »

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“In the silence of the heart God speaks. If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.”

― Mother Teresa, In the Heart of the World: Thoughts, Stories and Prayers

Ah, the silence of summer. Days full of nothing. The older I get the more I appreciate silence. Sometimes silence is awkward, so we try to fill it up with sound. We turn on the TV or radio. We make a phone call. In the car, I rarely ride without the radio on. At home, I turn on the TV.

Over and over I am reminded that God comes in silence. When I take the time to turn off the devices and just listen, I hear joy in the songs of the birds. I hear the whisper of wind. I hear the quiet voice of God.

I took a walk to the park and did not take my phone. I walked alone. I was amazed at the noisiness of the birds, especially the mockingbird. I recorded one high in a tree. During the recording you can hear me say good morning to another walker. Listen and count the number of tunes the mockingbird sings.

When you are most at ease with another person, silence isn’t awkward. We stop trying to fill the open void with chatter. Notice this with your closest loved ones. With them, silence is golden. That’s how it is with God. Quiet moments given to prayer and meditation. Don’t chatter. Let your thoughts flit away like a moth. Ride the silent wave to an ultimate closeness with your creator.

Silence is a source of great strength

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May: The End

Posted in Spiritual Growth, Teaching, tagged Eleven, End of school year, May, Sandra Cisneros on May 21, 2015| 7 Comments »

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December, May, and August are the most difficult months for me. December for the obvious reasons, end-of-the-year holiday madness. August is the month of my birthday as well as the beginning of school.

May is a tough month for us teachers. We are faced with so many things to get done, packing up the year, and moving students on. Saying goodbye is stressful. How do you do it? With just a hug? With a card? A letter? A video of the year? I am not a “regular” teacher. I am not showing videos. I am not organizing games. I am not having end-of-the-year parties. Some of these things I try to squeeze in to our last days, but attendance is not reliable. Of all the months and days of the school year, these last ones are when I am least comfortable. I am tired. I am sad. I eat a lot of chocolate.

Do you know the story by Sandra Cisneros, Eleven? “What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you
are –underneath the year that makes you eleven.”

What they don’t understand about school years and what they never tell you is when you’re in 6th grade, you’re also a 5th grader, and a 4th grader, and a 3rd grader, and a 2nd grader, and a 1st grader. When you walk to class on the first day of 6th grade, you expect to feel different, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like last year, only it’s a new school. And you don’t feel like a sixth grader at all. You feel like you’re starting first grade all over again. And you are –underneath the year that makes you a 6th grader.

Like some days you may say something stupid, and that’s like you’re still in first grade, and you aren’t sure where the bathroom is yet. Or some days, you may look into your lunchbox and cry, thinking of your mother’s hands making your sandwich and how she’s waiting for you to tell her all about your day. And you want to make her happy and make her feel like you are growing up and ready to face the world of middle school, but you’re not. You wish you could curl up under your desk on a springy red mat with a towel that smells like home and take a nap. That is the part that makes you feel like you are still in kindergarten. Your teacher smiles at you and understands. Because, inside, she’s a sixth grader, too.

Dedicated to Matthew who is leaving me to go on to middle school at a private school. I know he is ready. I know I have prepared him for this day, but I also know that inside he will still be 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10.

–Margaret Simon, after Sandra Cisneros

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