It's Not the Song, It's the Singer

(A video tribute to Justin Bieber from Rebecca's younger siblings.)

I had the honor of attending many amazing professional development sessions over the summer. I gathered numerous take-aways but one idea that repeatedly made an appearance was plaguing my mind. As is my way, I hashed it out until I was able to put words to what it was that was irking me. I'd like to share my journey to this realization with you. I must warn you that the journey will include an obsession with Justin Bieber and how his singing of "Happy Birthday" moving my daughter to tears must find a way into your teaching persona. I understand if you want to abandon ship now...as a mom of four daughters I am Bieber-ed out myself... but if you stay the course, your outlook on teaching will be better for having benefitted from the experience of my journey.

As teachers we are repeatedly challenged to make our lessons exciting and capture the attention of our students. We are competing with Social Media and video games that allow children to experience constant and instant feedback, pseudo relationships and conversation, and fun in whatever capacity suits the child. In one PD session that I led, the pressure to make every single lesson 'super-exciting' was a source of true frustration. New teachers were feeling stress over how to create lessons that were filled with excitement and enthusiasm at every turn of the school-year. How can we compete with what children are accustomed to in Fortnite when we have fractions, Punnett Squares and proper grammar instead of New Skins and Flossing?

And so, this concept was my wrestling opponent throughout the summer. I spent a lot of time trying to pin down the reason behind the happiness of my students vs. my lesson planning. I thought I was defeated in this match as I moved through the summer without success in finding answers for these teachers. In looking at my lessons...lessons spanning all academic core areas...I tried to figure out what the secret was that kept my students happily walking through my classroom door. In perusing my plans it became clear that my lessons, while interspersed with out-of-your-seat hands-on fun, are not all that exciting in the day-to-day. Our students deserve lessons that are engaging. Yes! They deserve lessons that challenge and teach. Of course! We can do this with hands-on activities, various student positioning and alternatives to worksheets, and we should.  But if I am a classroom teacher teaching everything from spelling to writing to reading to math, how can I possibly be expected to make every lesson exciting?  What I was hearing from fellow teachers was that this expectation can be downright defeating. In my reflection, I came to the realization that not every lesson I teach is exciting, and yet my students arrive each day smiling and eager to enter our classroom.  Why?

If you've hung on here this long with me and are wondering where JB fits in, don't worry. He's about to make his appearance and answer all of these concerns about exciting classroom teaching at the same time. To do so, we need to take a peek into my daughter's obsession. For years Rebecca had an infatuation with Justin Bieber. His lyrics coated her walls and books, his music filled her ears, and his tattooed torso was on display all around her room, even behind the clothing that hung in her closet. To Rebecca, he was amazing! We watched movies, read articles and sang along with him, even in Spanish.  At one time, she declared she could never go to his concert because, "I would just die!"  You get the picture. In her mind, he was a hero. You know what else he could apparently do better than anyone?  Sing that ubiquitous song, "Happy Birthday".  Two years in a row Rebecca's older brother Max, had JB serenade Rebecca on her birthday to tears of joy. Wait...what?  That same old song?!?!  We sang it to her many times - no tears. Bieber begins crooning in his breathy voice and all of a sudden the same song has her heart all aflutter and tears streaming down her face. Again I ask, Why?

But I don't really need to ask, do I?  You see it now, don't you?  It's not the song, it's the singer. It's not the lesson, it's the teacher. My students don't come to my room each day smiling because they might learn about integers or subject-verb agreement or Constitutional Amendments.  They come in smiling because I have connected with them and they know that whatever we do together, today will be exciting because we will have fun, we will laugh, we will solve personal problems, we will enjoy our safe environment and we will grow together in relationship. I will "sing" to them in a voice that tells them they are special and I love them. And yes, some days our work will be done with underwear outside our clothing to drive home the lesson of Order of Operations, but not everyday. And while this is not permission to neglect creating exciting ways to deliver your material, the out-of-the-ordinary doesn't need to be daily when you just enjoy the people with whom you are spending that time. True, there are no tears of joy streaming down the faces of my students as we hash out revisions to our essays. But when students are connected to us because we have taken the time to become 'that' teacher, even the mundane can be a source of joy and excitement in the classroom.

Am I a Little Too...Me? The World Needs Your 'You-ness'!

We've all heard the wellness warning that "One can't pour from an empty vessel." That sentiment is incredibly important but I'd like to posit that while it is true that you cannot pour from your cup if you allow it to go dry, you have no choice but to freely give from the surplus of your deep and abundant well. You hold your 'you-ness' in a well that cannot help but be full of you at all times. It is your essence! In fact, anyone who comes into your life will be generously showered with the contents of your well just by being near you. That's the beauty of your 'you-ness'.  So what are the contents of your well?  That's what we will hope to find out in the next few lines. This is one message that I hope to pass along to my students when I meet them in a couple weeks...and it is one we can all stand to remember each day we are called to be alive.

See that picture?  That's me trying to enjoy an afternoon summertime snooze.  See my blanket?  That is the newest Maccaroni dog, Mocha.  Mocha likes to be close...that is the gift she gives to my house full of prickly teenagers. She doesn't worry about how her desire to be close might affect the target, she just spends her time being uniquely and beautifully Mocha. Her desire and the ensuing gift she bestows come without thought, without provocation and without cost. It is just who she is, and anyone who is willing to be in her vicinity becomes the receiver of her 'Mocha-ness'. When was the last time you gave of yourself without worry as to how you would be perceived? I think we would be wise to adopt the abandon with which dogs give from their well...they don't concern themselves with how their gift will be viewed. They live in the notion that their gift is necessary and the happiness of receiving will mirror the happiness they feel in the gifting. That is pure freedom to be oneself.

So what's in your well? How does its contents affect those with whom you come in contact? And are you able to give without concern for how others will perceive your intentions? I invite you to arrive at your answers by following my journey into the topic. I imagine, and sometimes allow myself the luxury of worry over the fact that I can be a little overwhelming to some people who are not accustomed to my ways. My longtime friends get 'me', but those newly introduced into the vicinity of 'Donna-ness' might not. My 'me' openly enjoys the chance to tell someone, especially students and co-workers, when I notice them do something amazing or even just on a regular day, how awesome I believe them to be. I simply can't help myself. I'm known to gush, leave packages and send little "love notes" throughout the day. To do so makes my heart sing! This is the abundance of my well. Do I sometimes question how I will be perceived? Daily would not be an understatement! But I can't be any less me because of my concern over what might be in the minds of others. I do not, and cannot, control how I am perceived.

And so, here it is...after much deliberation and self-reflection, I have decided that I am exactly who I was intended to be. I am Donna, Lover of Life, Giver of Love and Master of Giving. Accepting that this is who I am helps me to rest easier, as it guides me to believe and accept that the people put in my path need to experience what I have to offer from my well. I truly believe there are no coincidences as to the people brought along our journey, only blessings to be sought. It is up to us to figure out why we were called into each life that crosses our path.  And so on those days when I feel that 'me being me' might be a little too much for those around me, I remind myself that no one will be made to cross my path if they were not intended to experience a little bit of 'Donna-ness'. Overwhelming as I may be, my well is full of something that others need. Reminding myself in this way, I rest easily, knowing that I tried to be part of the love that needs to be inflicted on this world in monumental amounts.

Check out this quote by Mark Twain: "Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."  Yes!!!  We have much work to do in being uniquely us right where we are planted!  And we have in abundance everything we need to affect others with our uniqueness at every turn of the day.

And so I end this post with a challenge disguised as a few reflection questions. I implore you to spend a little time ruminating on the possibilities suggested by these inquiries. I can't wait to discuss this message with the students with whom I will be blessed to spend the upcoming school year and help each of them determine the contents of their wells and explore the beauty of sharing themselves.

• What is in your well?  What is it that you have in abundance and are called to give with abandon? 

• What are the folks who cross your path in need of receiving?  What are you called to receive from them? 

We need to continually ask these questions in order to allow ourselves to be all we are intended to be. We also need to steer ourselves clear of the questioning that leads to discomfort regarding our generosity of self. A dear friend of mine always warned me about staying out of the heads of others trying to figure out what they were thinking and how they were perceiving me....he would constantly remind me that it is not my role or my job to determine what they were thinking about me.  My job is to be me, as yours is to be you.  BE YOU BEAUTIFULLY, FULLY AND AWESOMELY!  No one else can do you!!! And if that means totally crawling up into the space of others to "help" them get an awesome summertime nap by impersonating a blanket, then give that gift with complete and utter abandon!

Advice on Taking Advice

I mulled the topic of this post for over a week before allowing myself time with it at the keyboard.  The title ran the gamut and ended at the one you see above.  It is a much milder nomenclature than originally considered.  Had I written immediately, I would have wanted to prove a point, but since I am not a point prover and never have aspired to be one, I must at times, allow myself pause to collect my thoughts. Only then am I able to take them apart again, laying them down gently so that the reading audience can assemble them into a personalized meaningful recipe for growth and encouragement. 

As one who often prefers my little cave of a classroom at the very end of our school building so as to not offend or intrude on the thoughts of others, in the past I tended to keep my ideas about what others have to say to myself. However, since my inception into the world of Twitter, I have felt encouraged to share my thoughts as I have come across some very amazing individuals willing to bestow their best practices, ideas and advice on anyone who has a spare 15 seconds in which to read 140 characters. Just 140 little characters, spaces included, and yet, room for advice; wonderful or detrimental, as the case may be. 

Allow me to digress for one more moment in order to construct the scene necessary. When we go on-line to make a purchase, we usually have the option of reading reviews of the item in question, helping us to make informed decisions as to whether or not the item will meet our needs.  Will it fulfill for us the necessary purpose? Is it well constructed? Will it come packaged in a way that protects its integrity?...etc...  I have said more than once to my children as we read reviews on-line, that we need to accept the reviews of others carefully, knowing that some of the words are written by people from whom we would not normally seek advice. (Taking you a step further into my humor regarding discernment, I usually say something to the effect of, "This review might have been written by the nose-picker standing behind you at Target." Crude, perhaps, but the message is clear.) I admonish them to read the reviews, yes, but then decide for yourself whether or not that person's views have a right to be strongly considered in your discernment process over this item. 

And so it is with advice about life. When we go on-line to read the quotes, stories and advice of others, we must do so with a discerning mind. Not everything will suit your needs at any one time in your life. Not everyone has a right to have their words take a meaningful position in your life. And so it was with the impetus for this post.  When asked for advice for a brand new teacher, many kind and encouraging words were delivered. And then there was this:

"Only give 80% of yourself everyday.  If you give 100%, you will burn out in 3 years."

That was followed-up with:

"Never give your lunchtime away to your students. That is your time."

OK, I was able to effectively and kindly respond to the second comment by suggesting that "if giving your lunch away", otherwise known as enjoying lunch with your students, in order to build relationship with them works for you, then you go for it!  But regarding that first gem, I forced myself to refrain.  Not because I believed it to be true, but because every single response I typed out was snarky, tainted in sarcasm and laced with 'please find a new profession'.  There was no way to gently dance around the fact that I am thankful its author is not my child's teacher...or a brain surgeon or a brake specialist...you get the point. She is attempting to give advice to a new teacher, the builder of our future, by suggesting she NOT give the molding of young minds everything she's got.  She went on to cite someone who has apparently made it his goal to explain why it is important in teaching to not give 100%. I know I should have watched his video, and perhaps I will after posting this, but first I wanted to live with the face value of her advice for a while.

And so in the end, I know I was still a little snarky...I tried. But I hope this post is a reminder that we need to seek advice of others. We need to learn from each other. We need to be confident that others can learn from us and we have something of value to share. And in the end, we need to discern and be deliberate about the advice we allow to seep into our hearts. It is not all good and some of it is delivered by the "nose-picker". I can hear my youngest daughter telling me, "Mom, not all nose-pickers are bad.", and that is true. But nose-pickers should not be giving advice about public manners any more than teachers who do not wish to give their all every single day to their students (by first giving 100% to their own well-being) should be giving advice to teachers new to the profession.

Loving the Vulnerable...Fearless Mindfulness (baby follow-up)

As is often the case with the foster care experience, babies have a way of bringing folks together, piquing interest and informing the masses...all from their position of pure vulnerability.  Isn't it interesting that a helpless baby could teach so many without even trying?  The lessons babies teach are endless, but one of the main lessons we have to garner from the innocent is that of mindfully living in this moment right now.

First, an update regarding Wednesday's post. The little baby with whom we were preparing to possibly share our home was sent from the hospital on Friday to begin his life with his adoptive parents. That is miraculous and heartbreaking news, depending on which role one plays in the script, as you read on Wednesday. (Post: The Story We Must Consider: opioid addicted babies )As for my children and me, disappointed yet grateful, we packed our baby items away for the next time we are called to possibly provide a haven for a child. The items have their own little corner of our home, subtle reminders of the service we are ready to provide, sometimes with weeks worth of notice, other times with merely a day or two to prepare.  And so for us, that willingness to alter our family life in order to welcome an infant house guest reminds us we are to always be mindful.  This lesson is one we need to constantly consider, and where this post is about to bring you and me.

I have always thought that being an "on-call" EMT would be an amazing way to give service to others.  However, knowing my need for being planful, I could never bring myself to wear that beeper.  It would be impossible for me to function knowing that I could be called at any moment to switch gears and move into rescue mode. I admire the people who are able to help others in this way. This is the ultimate "living in the moment" service. Still, knowing that about myself, it is interesting that I would instead choose infant foster care for my preferred method of giving back. But even though it has its share of surprises and certainly lends itself to surrender of self and plans, being a foster family teaches my children and me to be mindful in other ways. Babies have no choice but to live in the moment. When they are hungry, they cry; tired, they sleep; happy, they smile.  There is no waiting until they get to the restaurant, crib or appropriate venue. But their lesson in mindfulness doesn't come merely from their "in the moment' example, it comes from what they unpretentiously demand of us.

Being mindful does not necessarily mean that I allow myself to enter into unpleasant situations and then attempt to find my comfort zone. Though sometimes that may be the case, being mindful often takes a step back and looks at the situation ahead of time. If the situation is one that will make me uncomfortable, and there is a way to avoid it, my mindfulness in that moment prior to the situation is where I need to act. This is one of those points that I feel so strongly, yet struggle for adequate words to explain, and so I'll try with an example:

Often my run is intended to bring me peace and alone time.  Unlike many individuals, I enjoy the monotony of lapping the track. I don't need to think about where I'm going, I don't need to monitor my time or distance, I need only run.  However, if I arrive at the track and it is already occupied, I know that I will not be able to enjoy my run in the same way and so I go elsewhere. My mindful moment is in that time beforehand, that thought process that knows me well enough to know what I need. Some might say that I should withstand the sharing of the track and in doing so, that is where true mindfulness is demonstrated: finding oneself in an uncomfortable moment and successfully pushing through. While I would agree that too is being mindful, there is wisdom in knowing what it is that I need at any given moment, and there is no valor in choosing the opposite.

You see, as babies teach us, being mindful is not defined by looking for the uncomfortable and proving we can persevere. Mindfulness is persevering in the way that brings awareness of the self and others to the forefront of the mind. It is not a judgement on the self or others, but an acceptance of the circumstances as they are presented. And so it was this week for me, my children, and those of you who shared the story of this baby and his family. You and I became mindful together as we allowed ourselves to love those suffering through the reality of infant addiction, foster care and adoption. The feelings that were stirred were uncomfortable, disturbing and more easily left for others to consider. But we entered anyway. When I read about what withdrawal entails for these babies, I cried.  But I read more anyway. I hope you did too. In many ways, I know this seems contradictory to my track example. If we know it will make us uncomfortable, according to my example above, we should retreat and find a new place to "run".  However, this IS our track.  This IS our world.  We are already here, whether we like it or not. And so, gaining awareness IS being mindful in our world.  I believe that by allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to the pain of others, by allowing ourselves to persevere in being mindful in our world, and by allowing ourselves to love the vulnerable, we will grow.  Then, and only then, will we be able to affect positive change in the circumstances surrounding those involved.

And so, consider his lesson: that baby, undoubtedly waking in the middle of the night, needing loving arms that might not be able to calm him, but will in time be able to assure him of his safety, is the ultimate teacher of mindfulness.  In that moment, when the parent most wants sleep, he/she must look at that baby, live in that moment, and simply love with all the parental heart can muster. Do we all prefer things could be different for him? of course.  But knowing they are not and knowing we are able to endure for others what we would prefer to avoid, we enter the crowded track and "run", making our way, foregoing the desired monotony of everyday simple living, in order to love those put in our path.  A Lesson in Mindfulness...absolutely!  Thank you for sharing it with me!  You are now a part of his story.  He will never know it, but you are different because of him.  How amazing!

The Story We Must Consider...opioid addicted babies

I am writing now in an attempt to capture the beauty, pain and turmoil of anticipation.  Tonight I ready my home just in case we are blessed to care for a foster baby who needs our family's love.  About two weeks ago, my children and I were made aware of the possible need of our home for foster care of a medically fragile infant who was born opioid addicted. Today we received word that he may arrive to our home tomorrow...or, he may not. For two weeks he has fought a battle, the harshness and pain of which most of us will never experience in our lives.  Hospital staff have worked to soothe him away from the addiction that riddled his body.  And so, at this point, we await word of whether or not his birth parents will sign the papers surrendering their parental rights.  If they do sign, he goes home to adoptive parents who are waiting for him to be their son.  If they don't sign, he will come to our home until his future is decided. Over the past two weeks, and exponentially multiplied now, my heart has taken this baby and his parents, both birth and adoptive, into its loving embrace. My prayers abound and so in this moment I feel it is imperative to share the thoughts and emotions running through my core as I attempt to be mindful and in the moment.

First, the baby:  Innocence.  Born to live the first two weeks of his life in turmoil.  Older people require years to overcome addiction.  The pain is shared.  The fear is lived and relived.  The withdrawal is more than many can handle, and so they go back to the very drug that brings them such pain.  Here is this little baby.  He had no choice.  He has been withdrawing from the evil for two weeks instead of spending these precious moments in the arms of a mother who was able to love him in that way. The future implications of his gestation and the first two weeks of his life are uncertain.  And he unfortunately has company of many others.  Other babies are born to the same or similar painful beginnings every-single-day.  How many of us take the time to think of these babies?  We know addiction, and in particular the epidemic of opioid addiction, is excruciating.  But I know that I am guilty of not having given it much thought until it was put in front of me and my children in the form of a possible new foster child entering our home.  My question always is, as it has been these weeks as I contemplated and cried for this baby I have never met,  "What more should I be doing?"

Next, the parents:  It is all too easy to point fingers, lay blame, feel anger at the people who brought a child into the world in this way.  Please stop.  I guarantee it was not a choice made in any way similar to how most are able to make choices.  My heart breaks for the birth parents, but as a mom myself, I feel especially connected to the mother.  I know she is as in love with her baby as I was with all of mine. If she signs papers tonight, the baby will go to his adoptive family immediately upon discharge tomorrow.  If she doesn't, he will come to my home.  Either way, because of her addiction, she is unable to adequately care for and parent this little boy that she carried inside her body for the term of his gestation.  She is not, I am sure, flippantly making the decisions with which she is confronted.  If opioid addiction was something she could easily toss aside in order to care for her baby, I am certain she would do so. For her, the most loving thing to do might be to sign away her parental rights.  Can you imagine???  Addiction...  It is evil.  It is controlling. It is debilitating.  Can I imagine anything that would stand between my children and me? No. But neither have I ever been in the grips of addiction.  The life of one held captive by addiction is not easy and choices, many times, are not theirs to make.  And so, for this mom and dad, my heart weeps.  I cannot imagine what these past two weeks have held for them, and the continued torment they will live.  Nope. No judgement here, just more tears of frustration and loathing for the evils of our world.

Can't forget the hospital staff: Hearts of steel plated gold! The strength they muster in order to care for these babies and their parents through such traumatic events is amazing!  There are birth parent counselors, doctors, nurses, each taking on a role in the lives of these new babies. Holding them as they cry, feeding them through withdrawal, loving them as they experience their first days of a harsh new world, harsher to them as their bodies yearn for the drug they have come to need.  These are people in line with you at Quick Check or the supermarket.  Parents of your child's classmates.  Regular folks called to do amazing work.  They expend their emotional and physical energy for the benefit of babies and parents. Parents who, by default, feel victimized, ostracized and judged, and so might not find it in their ability to thank the very folks who are working to save lives.  And so, we must thank them as a society.  The service they provide goes far beyond that which most are called to take on.

Finally, the adoptive parents:  In all of my fostering, it has been about 8 years now, I have never been in the position of the adoptive parents, and I do not envy the plethora of feelings they must endure.  I have met and spoken with many parents of adoption. The wait for these parents tonight goes well beyond my need to plan for a possible short term foster placement.  Can you imagine not knowing whether or not your son will come home tomorrow when released from the hospital?  Or if he will be your son at all?  Imagine the inner turmoil of rooting for parental surrender of rights...that is harsh. I believe the pain of adoption is real.  The not knowing.  The questions.  The necessary abandon of all control of the situation.  And the hope...all the hope.

And so, with the anticipation of the possible arrival of this baby in our home, I ask you to try to keep these children and all involved in this little corner of life, in your minds.  Those of you who are fellow teachers should know that these are the children of your future.  In fact, they are the children of your present...there are stories in your classrooms that will make you shudder, if you take the time to know them.  These are human stories, and we are all called to take them into our hearts, as my children and I have done for the past two weeks, let them fester there and make you feel what they have to offer.  It is not pleasant, but it is real. There are several dimensions to every story, and it is up to us, not to judge, but to love the children and parents though it all.  We are in this life together!  I'll keep you posted...meanwhile, let me go set up a crib... just in case.

Keeping Your Side of the Street Clean

There is a sentiment in AA that reminds us we need only worry about keeping our side of the street clean.  An alcoholic must focus on considering and controlling only his or her actions in order to remain on the straight and narrow path of sobriety. There is no blaming of others, nor is there reliance on others for one's personal success. Whether struggling with addiction or not, we can all learn from the lessons in The Little Blue Book. The concept of only worrying about your side of the street comes in handy in all walks of life.

Repeatedly this week I have been invited to consider the negative bent of others, and to attempt to decipher my role in quelling virulence of such individuals. How much are we responsible for responding to, or helping to change the ways of those who are hell-bent on negativity and the tearing down of others? The answer is, not at all. If my example can teach others to walk a positive path, that is great. But arguing with negative people will never lead to their optimistic enlightenment, and so to do so is fruitless. As I was considering this, I was brought back to my teaching situation about twenty years ago, and I invite you now to consider this scenario:

I had been teaching for 6 years, but was new to the public school setting.  I was the teacher in a class of children who had the special education label at the time of Emotionally Disturbed. My principal wanted nothing more than to know that I would keep the children under control and isolated in my classroom. He was not a fan of the students I loved, and gave the impression that they would be better housed anywhere but in his building. As such, he and I didn't always see eye-to-eye.  I recall once in front of my class and others that were passing in the hallways, he was yelling at me so vehemently that the red was creeping up his neck to his face...One of my students had stabbed another with her pencil, and he wanted to know how I could possibly have missed catching this before it happened. In his mind, I must have been sitting back, eyes closed, enjoying Bon Bons (if you are too young to know what they are, look them up!) instead of paying attention to my students. Clearly, he had limited experience with the kids in my class and how stealthily they could inflict their torment.  Anyway, as the red traveled north to his forehead, I calmly stated, "Please do not yell at me."  His answer, "I AM NOT YELLING AT YOU!"  My reply, "OK, then please do not speak to me that way."  He tried to get himself under control, couldn't, and so he stormed away. I remember considering the ironic similarities between my students' and this adult educator's behavior. Anyway, I needed you to understand my relationship with this man in order to appreciate the next chapter of the story.

There was one particular young boy in my class whose father was unhappy with his placement. The negative connotations of being in a classroom for children labeled "Emotionally Disturbed" trumped the father's ability to see that his son needed smaller class size, a more intimate student to teacher ratio, and a plan to help him control his physical outbursts. The father could not appreciate that his son was now finding school success, was smiling daily, and was generally proud of himself. Instead, the dad staged a "strike", which he planned for a particular morning as buses were scheduled to arrive for school. Dad went about it all legally, informing police of his intentions. My principal was a wreck leading up to this event. At an 'emergency' faculty meeting, he warned teachers about their drive in to school on that day, and glanced in my direction to indicate that the student in question was mine. You see, his nervousness came from his inability to keep his side of the street clean. His whole block was a mess of ego and self-centeredness. I was doing my job, loving that student with all my heart, and following the plan in place to help this child find success. My side was clean, my heart was calm.

When I see comments on Twitter that are negative, hear people spewing their vitriol instead of appreciating education's advances, or when I find someone rolling their eyes as others celebrate successes, I just smile. I think of that man, red creeping up his neck practically lighting a neon sign atop his head that said, "Don't listen to me. I don't care about you, so you don't need to care about what I have to say." OK, that's a really long neon sign, but you get the idea. It is not the negative comments of others that should spend time in your head. Read them and move on. Hear them, and smile and nod.  You can do that if your side of the street is clean and you live in the knowledge that you are doing the right thing at all times. Then listen to those that love you. Not just the "yes" folks, though I know listening to them feels good. Listen mostly to the folks that are not afraid to tell you if you messed up, but who are also there to celebrate your successes. They are the ones who will be there with you enjoying a block party you host on your nice clean side of the street.

Never Retreat: Respond with Optimism, Kindness and Love

Let me begin with a disclaimer: The topic of today's post is not something that has never occurred to me before, nor is it going to be new learning for anyone reading.  Much like the concepts of the direction of the toilet flush or how my voice travels from my face to a phone thousands of miles (or even just one mile) away, it is one of those confounding topics that escapes our concrete thinking.  The question I plan to pose in just a few lines is seemingly inane, but don't be fooled. It lingers dangerously on the periphery of our mind's conscious thoughts.  Dangerous to those of us prone to its presence, yet unaware of how it affects us on a daily basis until it might be too late.  Not too late to retreat because we should NEVER RETREAT; but too late to respond with optimism and love.  And so, here is the question that is plaguing my mind today:

Why, when there is so much in this beautiful life and world for which to be grateful, are there folks who are hell-bent on being negative and spreading pessimism?  

This week I had the honor of attending my son's college orientation.  Instead of blogging about the irony of the chaos and craziness of my life these past few days, chaos which happened to be plopped dead center between two sessions I am presenting on Finding Balance and Peace in Real Life, I need to implore all readers to seriously consider the question above with me.  It is an important question for anyone who believes any of the following:

Kindness Matters
The Power of Positivity
Positive Culture Makes a Difference
Choose Kind
Love Conquers All
Life is So Good

That list can go on, in fact, comment here, on Twitter, on Facebook all that you can with additional phrases of positivity, because the comments that surrounded me this week are a testament to the fact that many folks really just don't get it.  But even more importantly than putting it out on all those social media avenues, where quite frankly the folks most in need of the message are likely not hanging out with us, we need to LIVE IT OUT LOUD!!!  Everywhere you go, spread that beautiful positive vibe that makes you stand out.  Share your smile with the crabster in line.  Give a positive comment, regardless of the outcome, to the cashier, waitress or (on those days when it really gets to you) the bartender.  Let yourself be vulnerable enough to be brave enough to shout to the world, "This life is awesome,  and if you don't believe me, let's figure out what we can do to change your situation or change your mind!"  

I promised myself that I would not go into detail as to the origins of this post. Throughout the past week, there were many factors bringing this question to the forefront of my mind.  One major factor occurred in the auditorium of my son's college as I saw a room full of beautiful teenagers, all silently screaming "I AM FULL OF AWESOME POTENTIAL!!!".  Were there kids who were challenges to their parents? You bet!  Were there teens who pushed limits?  Absolutely!  Were there some kids who are going to make bad choices?  No doubt!  The room was bustling with the energy of teens who are on the road to adulthood and it was absolutely, undeniably, an energy that this world needs!  Maybe I'm the nut, but after hearing what some of the parents said earlier about their children, I didn't want to leave the auditorium.  But you can bet those folks were doused in my positive vibe. I didn't retreat...NEVER RETREAT!  I responded with resounding optimism, love and admiration for all that is teen-age-hood and for the parents who are living it.  Will they avoid me in the future? quite possibly.  But somewhere in their minds perhaps there will be a little ringing of the bell of positivity and complete fascination about the beauty of this world, awe in the potential of all children and excitement for all that life has to offer if only we are open to receiving.