self-care 101

   

fall 2019. 

the time of year that every year for the past 10 years, without fail, naturally seems to bring a crash-of-sorts into my health.
I've been running on empty at lightening speed and eventually, I have to stop or be stopped to refuel my inner tank.
Next week is report card week, so that means that my teacher-creature-by nature, would be at school all weekend, entering report card data & scampering to prepare all things for conference week. But not this year... instead, this year, this girl is taking 3 sick days to sleep, feel better, re-energize, and take time to make my health a top priority.

   This is round 2 for me, batting something really yukky in my head & chest. My whole body is run down, I haven't been able to get enough sleep, and my mind just won't stop thinking about all that I have yet to do, or haven't done well. It's also the season in my life when everything seems to be preparing for winter. 
Fall triggers something inside of me that always brings me down. the season right before my dad got sick... the season where I had to let me emotions go into hibernation so that I could survive the storm that I didn't even know was ahead. Without fail, the changing & falling of the leaves always triggers the season in my life the reminds me of one of the coldest winters on record in my emotional well-being.  Seeing leaves change into beautiful colors, let go of their branches, and softly fall to the ground has become a metaphor to the currents of life. and letting go.
   And this fall brought yet another icon in my life to his final resting place. My Uncle Don was my dad's little brother... the one man on earth who I could always feel my dad's presence through. Neither of them perfect fathers in the least, but the only fathers we had, & cornerstone-like icons in my life nonetheless. Having to watch my best friend lose her dad, much in the same way I lost my dad, was painful... realizing that yet again, cancer took the life of someone most dearly loved. Another leaf let go... ushering in yet another sunset of life. 
   Regardind letting go, this current school year has been particularly hard for me, yet equally rewarding in so many ways. I have a wonderful student teacher who has truly been a blessing to me and to my kids. She's got a natural way with kids and she's going to be a great teacher! I thought I'd have a hard time letting-go, and easing in to allowing her to do what I do, but honestly, God knew just what I needed. It has been a long, hard first 9 weeks of school. I have 21 little people with immense trauma and difficult home situations. I have 2 little girls whose mamas died, one died of cancer 7 & I from suicide. These little ones need someone like me in their life to nurture, teach, and to love.

I  have 2 little boys with deep-seeded emotional trauma. Abuse, parents with drug addiction, deep, deep trauma that causes them to act out in difficult ways at school & in the classroom. I have had to document tons of behavioral challenges, come up with tracking documents with which to keep track of when their behaviors are occurring, what interventions I'm implementing, and what effects those interventions are having on the boys' behavior. I love them both to pieces and it's hard, difficult work trying to juggle their unexpected & sometimes absurd behaviors from one minute to the next.

I also have little ones with language barriers. Others who fail to thrive in first grade & aren't even willing to try... others who try for a brief time, & then cry and create a huge commotion when things get hard. And I'm most concerned with not being able to "teach them to read" in the same fashion that is comfortable, and familiar, and proven over time. And THAt realization is ever so difficult... I'm trying my best to be the best teacher I can be for them all, but it's become quite clear that a great deal of my effort has landed me at home, sick, & in bed.

Here's the bottom line... 
teaching is hard.
Learning is hard.
Life. is. hard.
Self-Care is even harder for me...
Balancing all of the above is hard.
And when my cup runs on empty, it's even harder.

I've really been trying to make efforts to put at least 20 minutes of self-care into every day. *20 minutes is a LONG TiME! ;)
Most days, self care looks like a caramel banana shake, or sitting and watching the newest episode of This is Us. *on This is Us days, I overdo myself by infusing an hour of self-care time, give or take the commercials.
Two weeks ago I even spent extended self-care time after school, getting an hour-long massage one day, and having my hair colored a spunky new shade of auburn on another. But other days... oh the struggle~ and the struggle is real. I've also taken up journaling again, and my hope is that I can really begin pouring out my heart on this blog with a more dedicated effort. Particularly because I know how therapeutic it can be for my inner spirit. Just to be unabridged & transparent... with myself.
Allowing light to shine through my honest evaluation of myself, and simply being ok with not-being-okay.

no audience. 
no evaluation. 
no expectations to meet up to. 
no timelines.
no meetings to go to.
or documentation to keep... just. simply. me. 
I guess today's a gift that I gave to myself & allowed myself to open. 
Rationale: 
a) I'm exhausted. 
b) I'm feeling awful, and 
c) did I mention how tired I am? 😕

I have papers to grade... report card data to enter... report cards to print... and Module 2 of our new curriculum to read up on.
Those things will have to wait until tomorrow.
Today I have a conference call after school for the IEP that I made the decision not to attempt to attend. That's about all I have planned for today.
Except for a nap.
A nap would be nice...

#twitter-rant

brain dump.

7.31.19

twitter use to be my favorite place to collaborate & connect with positive educators. 

...until tonight.

Some arrogant jerk called me out on the twitter-sphere for only having 10 POC *people of color* on my follow feed. "And 3 of those is the Obamas & the Dali Lama" he had the audacity to shout-out back at me. 

"Sorry Angie...you will now have your Twitter follow list thrown at you as en example of how closed-minded you are. We don't care what any of the people you follow think. It's far more important what color they are...because you know, color is the easiest way to judge people."

what a jerk. the end.

my first menopausal intention was to engage in a digital debate with the jerk, but then my frontal lobe stepped in and held me back. Instead, i took a step back and reevaluated my twitter-intentions, and I realized, this is a small rabbit that I'm not willing to engage in a chase of words with.

psh* sometimes social media just isn't the best venue for intelligent communications.

Marinating for far too Long

Brain dump: Feb. 10, 2019

Today I feel…

   today i feel…….

*tap*tap*tap*

   Simply put, today i can’t seem to put my finger on how i feel. There are lots of things swimming around in my heart & mind, but i can’t identify what the overriding emotion is, that my heart has been marinating in~ for far. too. long.

Spiritually, it feels like I've been wandering aimlessly in the desert. I feel like a church-orphan. No spiritual father, no mentoring mother... no place of worship to call home. I've often thought about what is it that makes me feel abandoned. Lost. Without direction with it comes to having a place to "fellowship" with the family of God/"going to church."

Even those places that we've tried to stake our tents upon didn't provide the "connections" like we once felt... that I now crave. My heart desires a loving shepherd who knows me. My heart is yearning for a place that feels like home when my heart is joyful, or broken. Or grieving. Where would I go if my heart was suddenly torn by grief? I crave true communion with the Holy Spirit who knows my anxious thoughts. Lord, will you help me rediscover communion with you, in a community of believers. Where I feel loved, and seen... and welcomed into a family again.

Compounding this frustration I feel is that it feels like i'm estranged from my family. I often question, why don't I matter to them? Was it ever really "real", or did they just play their respective parts until dad was gone and then walk away? Did my dad's unrealistic & unmet expectations play the same silent maneuvering with them, like they did me? Once he was gone, did they all just breathe a sigh of relief like I did, and return to living their own lives again like I did?

I know that truth... they didn't move, i did.

I wasn't ever close enough to feel like I was an important part of their lives before... so why does it feel like I've been so alienated and turned-away from? Maybe it's because now the reality of it all has time to set in and marinate in my heart... for far. too. long. Family isn't a noun, it's a verb. That's why it's easy to decipher the truth from a lie.

I feel sad because I never had, and still don't have the mother that I need. One who just loves me... regardless of whether I measure up or call often enough. My heart often wonders,

What about me? Why wouldn't she treasure me in the way that a daughter needs her mother, simply because I'm her only biological child? Why would she silently, yet constantly cause me to feel that I don't measure up... Why would she consciously choose to be so untrustworthy... for me to feel that it's never safe just to share my life, or my heart? Why would she continually "judge by proxy", and by default, cause her relationship with me to drift so far away.

There's so much academic drama that surrounds where I teach. The place where I've always loved to teach has been infiltrated by dangerous toxins... a handful of poisonous, manipulative people who pollute the atmosphere, making it hard to breathe some days. One, two, three, four, five, six... one-by-one their poison darts continue to capture & take captive the once-positive people who made our building great. It's unfortunate, that a handful of them were this way from the get-go. On the flip-side, I am steadfastly

committed to be one who holds firm to this quote, by Margaret Mead: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

I'd much rather stand firmly to my commitment to be a part of solution, rather than be part of the problem.

I just read a great article on the Mindful Teacher's blog, called "Realistic Self Care: What's Draining your Battery?"


When we feel overwhelmed, it can be useful to ask ourselves: 

"Could there be a simpler way? A better way? A kinder and gentler way? A more efficient way? There probably is. Maybe you’ve just been too hustle-bustle-crazy-busy-frenzied to see it clearly."  AlexandraFranzen.com

The article ends with a profound statement:

"To put this as simply as possible:

Thoughtful and committed citizens, take a nap! 

Then, as soon as you feel refreshed, get back out there and keep on changing the world."

That's it! The solution to all of the above... 
I'm off to take a Nap!!
@