Big Beautiful Hearts

I can't help but think there is something to be gained from this. This, this national pandemic. This 30something day into forced isolation. We all remember how life was before this all started. It's hard to not be profoundly amazed at how quickly everything can change. And is that really not something that we are supposed to get? Nothing lasts forever. People you adore will go away. Homes in which countless memories are made will be moved from. Loves that were rich with affection and adoration will slowly turn into forced conversations and uncomfortable presence. Your money. Your position of power. Your children. Your parents. Your beauty. This is the great cause of suffering....they will all go away. This sounds depressing, but this unique time has really shone a light on how uncomfortable this realization can make people feel. People are hurting. They are lonely. They are scared. I join them at times; I suspect we all have visited upon these emotions. They are all a part of...

"5th grade graduation is online this year". She just came in and told me this, matter of factly, but laced with the bitter disappointment that she's become all too familiar with. Her expressive eyes flat. Sleepaway camps, group projects, plays, concerts...each rite of passage for my 10 year old child is taken away. These are trivial things we tell ourselves, in light of the bigger picture. People are getting very sick. People are dying. We need to stay in place for the good of mankind. Yes, but also, there is the way your daughter's nostrils quiver when she rests on your lap, and you know that the tears are close behind. And the anger she sends your way, raw and confused, because she doesn't know how to navigate this. And the lazy mornings tinged with dread for a day of online learning. And the computers, those wretched beasts. I'm profoundly grateful for them and yet feel a wicked disdain for how they have overtaken our lives. Each day, each p...

Two ingredients. The sourdough starter only requires two ingredients: flour and water.  You'll be surprised that something so delicious can arise from two ingredients. You'll doubt this is possible. But soon you'll see the tiny bubbles pierce their way through the thick mud letting you know that your starter is alive. The bacteria are thriving. They are eating. They are creating the byproducts of what happens when two molecules meet and unite. Soon there is a rich, delicious sour flavor. One bubble at a time. One day at a time. You may ask yourself if it's worth it, making the sourdough. There are only so many hours in the day. Do you really have time to stop and measure out the flour and water and feed your starter every day? Every week?  I mean, you can buy sourdough at Trader Joe's. Perfectly round. Perfectly sliced.   ******** With resignation, comes peace. Here we are, in a global pandemic.  We need to stay inside as the virus t...

I was just standing in my kitchen making my morning coffee. My earbuds in (they often are) as I love listening to music, news, videos in the morning. Anyway, a fb friend posted a video and I mindlessly clicked on it. Within seconds I was a puddle of tears. I was shuddering crying. Ugly crying. I had no idea this was in even in me. There are two things that are poignantly clear as I watch this video. 1) Music and art is so, so incredibly powerful. And 2) We are grieving. Do not ever let someone say that art doesn't have a place in schools or in education. Through one small song I just got in touch with a powerful, latent grief that was inside of me. I had grown insidiously. That song just tapped on its door and woke it up. And now I'm working through those emotions, and I'm GRATEFUL to be doing that, because clearly I needed to. I'm going to swear, okay. I fucking miss you. I miss friends and students and colleagues and I don't think I've ever appreciated...