"After the Flood, All the Colors Came Back"

Perhaps one of my strangest habits is posting random song lyrics as my Facebook status.  Over the years, Facebook has become almost like a mini-journal to me, and I can chronicle my life by status updates ... and the song lyrics I've posted.

What's interesting, though, is that the song lyrics very rarely have any sort of depth of meaning in my life.  There are exceptions, of course ...

From Alanis Morissette's "Uninvited":

Must be strangely exciting
To watch the stoic squirm
Must be somewhat heartening
To watch shepherd need shepherd

Or, from Phish's "Fee":

You're racing with the wind

You're flirting with death

So have a cup of coffee 

And catch your breath

Most often, though, it's because I'm touched by the beauty of lyrics ("And the four right chords can make me cry"--Third Eye Blind, "After it rains, there's a rainbow and all of the colors are black/It's not that the colors aren't there; it's just imagination we lack"--Simon and Garfunkel, and so on) or else because I'm totally laughing at myself.

Earlier in the week, for example, I was on my way to the beach and found myself singing along with "Hey Jealousy" by the Gin Blossoms.

Tell me, do you think it'd be all right

If I could just crash here tonight

You can see I'm in no shape for driving,

And anyway I've got no place to go.

Now, I happened to be driving along the coast when this loud, windows-down singing transpired ... and Ocean Boulevard was very crowded.  Let's just say that I was the source of laughter for an awful lot of people ;-).  

So I posted the lyrics as my status update, and a lot of my friends were worried about me.  I supposed I could have just put, "I'm stuck in traffic at the beach, and people are laughing at my singing", but to me, posting the lyrics has ensured that I'll never forget the memory.

I'm weird ;-)

But anyway, there really is a point to this ...

On my way to work yesterday, U2's "Beautiful Day" came on, and I was touched by the line "After the flood all the colors came out" as it was capturing almost exactly what I was feeling.

I wasn't referring to the Tropical Storm Irene situation or to anything other than simply this:

No matter what happens, however awful things get, they do end eventually and get better.  Sometimes it takes a long time, but it will happen.  

I was seeing metaphorical colors everywhere yesterday, and they're still shining brightly today (although I have the day off ... four day Labor Day weekend, woohoo :-))

I can't get into details, but suffice it to say that last year was absolutely the low point of my teaching career.  It was a nightmare that had me contemplating leaving the profession altogether (and it had nothing to do with the kids ... the kids were wonderful).

I am back at the grade level that I love working with people who are drama-free and student-focused.  Oh, and of course the kids are wonderful :-).  But seriously, taking adult drama and chaos out of the equation has totally rejuvenated my passion for teaching, and I am incredibly, unspeakably happy :-)

And of course it served as a gentle reminder that this is true in all facets of my life ... I just need to have patience :-)

To celebrate my professional happiness and renewed belief in waiting patiently for other aspects of my life to fall into place (believing that they will, because if whatever higher power you believe in could deliver me from the freaking nightmare that work was last year, anything is possible ...), I got a haircut :-)

Also, I created classroom blogs, which you can look at here and here if you're interested.  I'm pretty excited about it :-)

Part of the Problem ... or Part of the Solution?

Everyone has crap in their lives.  It's a fact.

And when it all seems to add up--as it always seems to do--it's really easy to wallow in it, to get bogged down by it, to bring yourselves to the same low level as people you have absolutely no respect for.

It's funny, when I start to feel totally overwhelmed by the garbage that seems to me like unspeakably heavy lead weights attached to my legs while I'm swimming in the ocean, it always occurs to me to remember that I have the power to make a choice.

Do I want to be part of the problem?  Is it my desire to keep on trying to swim, held back and stuck in one place by those blocks of lead that are tied to me?  Is there any point, really?

It's much easier to be part of the solution, to figure out a way to cut the ropes that have tied the weights to me in the first place, to recognize that the blocks of lead will still be there, will always be trying to wrap their way around me again ... but that I do not have to let it happen.

And so tonight, I'm taking a deep breath.

I cannot change, understand on any sort of rational level, or try to help (a mindset that always ends up backfiring in my face), no matter how hard I try, someone who is so mentally ill that the only person that matters to himself is ... well, himself.

I cannot change people in positions of power that are completely blind to reality.  All I can do is the best I can and hope that these people either open their minds a little bit or are replaced by more qualified and competent individuals.

I have no power over the life dramas that add up--things like dogs barfing between the cracks of the hardwood floor, head lice, dead car batteries, abscessed teeth, mail that gets lost, cell phone cases that break, not being able to access work e-mail from home, writer's block, losing a book I'm really into when I have two chapters left, friends that disappear unexplained from your life, and so on and so forth.

And so sometimes, you just have to stop, do a quick self-reflection, and ask, "Am I part of the problem?"

Usually, no matter how much you want to think otherwise, the answer is yes, either because of clumsiness or insensitivity or irresponsibility or impulsivity or whatever.

So then I have to put on my big girl panties and strive to instead be part of the solution.

This isn't always possible.  In fact, sometimes you are going to get metaphorically screwed, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

The three big things that are wearing me down, I do not believe that I am part of the problem, no matter how many different angles I am looking at them.

I honestly don't see how I can be part of any solution, which makes me sad and full of regret, but there is nothing I can do.  I mean, when you can say with a 100% clear conscience that you have tried everything in your power, you have to just do the best you can and have hope that things will change for the better.

They always do eventually.

But I refuse to swim around with those lead weights tied around me anymore.  I have to harden my heart, which is so anti-me it's not even funny, but it's the only way I can be free.

It's the only way I can possibly be part of the solution instead of possibly perpetuating the problems.

I believe in a higher power, and I believe in karma.  I live my life doing the best I can for other people, and I am able to look in a mirror with a clear conscience.  I have no ulterior motives for any of my actions that are intended to hurt other people, and I know in my heart that I am a good person.

Somehow I know that the people at the root of my current conundrums can't say that about themselves.

And with that realization, I think I'll be able to sleep tonight :-)

Who Am I To Argue With Fate?

Do you believe in fate? Sometimes I get all cynical and think it's a bunch of crap, that karma does not in fact pay you back for living a life that focuses on bettering the world for others,doesn't bring down the people who bring so much pain and suffering into the world.

Then I have days like today where I realize that there has to be something ... call it God, call it fate, call it good luck, but man ...

So last night, my computer suddenly went psycho. I mean, we're talking crazy. I was pretty sure it was a lost cause (whatever it was swept through the virus protection like wildfire), and Addie confirmed that this morning.

Of course, I had a decision to make. Should I go to a computer specialty store to see if they can repair the earliest version of a Netbook, or should I just get a new computer (which has been on the radar for awhile ... Netbooks have good points, but they also have severe limitations).

Anyway, I'm typing this on my beautiful, brand new laptop :-)

Back to fate for a minute, though.

I got this urge yesterday to print my novel. I have a hard time editing on a computer screen (it's kind of like why I don't have a Kindle or a Nook, despite my insatiable appetite for reading), and I knew I had a lot of work to do.

To make matters even more interesting, my printer is special and prints one page at a time. My completed novel is lengthy. Quite lengthy. It made more sense to just go to Staples, so I put it on a USB and paid far too much money to it printed.

Yeah, do you see why the "one page at a time" approach was just not feasible?

Anyway, while I was putting the novel onto a USB, I figured I might as well print out my current WIP, too. After all, it's in need of some editing as well.

When my computer appeared to be possessed by the equivalent of Charles Manson on acid, I was momentarily hysterical. Other than Addie and Belle (and possibly my dogs), those two pieces of writing are the most important thing in the world to me.

They weren't backed up until yesterday. (Stupid, I know)

Thank you, whatever force made me take care of that business yesterday. I owe you one!

And, if you're interested in exploring my novel in terms of critique or style or abject curiosity or whatev, you can read some of it here, and/or weigh in on a recent struggle I've had with it right here.

And, just because I'm excited about it, here's the hard-to-read dedication page (no pseudonyms there, but I don't think the people on the page would be offended ... interesting that I've written about most of them here under assumed names, though).

A Pat on the Back From Heaven

The strangest thing happened today.

I was on my way to pick Addie up from Jazz Band (yes, it snowed again ... I'm just laughing about it at this point, even though the snowbanks in my driveway are taller than I am), and I decided to stop at the gas station to hit up the ATM and grab a Diet Coke.

As I was paying for my stuff, I looked at the cashier's nametag and immediately recognized the name (it's a pretty unique name).

Okay, let me back up for a second here. I've written before about what an amazing person my stepfather was and how I miss him every day even though he's been gone for six years now. After he passed, a memorial scholarship was set up in his name to be awarded to a high school senior who had shown remarkable perseverance in the face of many obstacles (although he ended up being a very successful man, my stepdad fought incredibly hard to get there ... and he gave the credit to a high school teacher who believed in him when nobody else did).

Anyway, I was pretty sure the girl scanning my Diet Coke had been awarded the scholarship a couple of years ago. I went back and forth about asking her, and I finally figured, might as well.

I am so glad that I did!

She remembered both receiving the scholarship and its nature. I told her a little bit about my stepdad, and she said she was truly honored to have been awarded it.

The best part?

She's still in school! I was hoping this was the case and kind of assumed she was since the gas station pretty much abuts the campus of New Hampshire's biggest university, but I didn't know for sure until I asked.

I told her that my stepdad would be very proud to know that. She got a little teary-eyed, I got a lot teary-eyed, then some college kid behind me trying to buy a case of beer started clearing his throat impatiently, so I thanked her again and left.

What was incredible about this happening today of all days is that I got my classroom observation write-up and had an evaluation meeting with the principal today (I got a good report :-)). I never would have become a teacher if not for my stepdad--he motivated me and believed in me when nobody else did and encouraged me and was incredibly proud that I entered the education field.

Running into a girl who had received his scholarship on the same day that I heard from my principal that I'm doing a good job was kind of like getting a pat on the back from heaven.