It is called the present because it is a gift

When my eyes are open, and I mean all the way open I encounter inspiration everywhere. And by open I mean being present in the moment. I have been working at this for a few years and I am still a novice. I still plan as far out as I can and panic if I do not have anything in my planner at least two months ahead. I am a control freak and planning provides the much needed illusion that I have control over what happens in my environment. I have made incremental progress in dismantling this thought process, but I still have a long way to go. I have been practicing the art of letting go and accepting what is. No easy feat for an anxiety prone, control obsessed, introverted extrovert. We all have our challenges, and like hard work at the gym I am beginning to see the fruits of my labor.

I have a cohort of neighbors that meet every Sunday. Some of us go to the same church and others just live in the neighborhood. We meet to discuss our week, the challenges we face and we pray for guidance and strength to overcome them. We also practice the fine art of gratitude. We discuss all we have and give thanks with the expectation of what we will receive. Sometimes the discussions go deep extending into spiritual warfare, premonitions and the gift of hindsight. It is that kind of group.

The group has three other moms. They seemed comfortable in their roles as wife and mother being a priority in their lives. Careers are important to them but, not the driving force of their lives. Meanwhile I felt as if my entire identity was crumbling as I struggled with my job search. The stay-at-home moniker hung over my head like a dark rain cloud holding heavy with water threatening to beat me into the pavement. I held this panic tight in my chest until one day I expressed this fear out loud to the group. I was embarrassed but, also worried I would insult my friends. They empathized with my struggle, and encouraged me to let go of the vision that raising my son and taking care of my family was less worthy work. Turns out I was the only one judging myself. When I stopped judging I had more energy to focus on a solution. A solution that would meet my needs as a sometimes single parent when Ryan deploys.

I stopped worrying about my CAREER. I kept searching, but with less desperation in my heart. I used this blog, my meet up group, Toastmasters and volunteering at events I am interested in to refocus on what makes me feel alive. Ironically the more extracurricular events I participated in, the more energy and passion I had for my family.

During one of our Sunday meetings one of the moms with older kids asked for my resume. She circulated it among her friends who it turns out are a who's who of Savannah. I started getting calls asking what kind of work I was interested in because my resume states I can do almost anything. Flattered, but not exactly happy because it had been a year and no serious job offers. Then on a whim my friend mentioned me to her CEO. He and I chatted one day on my way home from school. Honestly, I was not well prepared for the call. I was driving home from school and therefore exhausted. We agreed to meet in a few days.

I was better prepared for the meeting at his office. I understood his business and had intel about  the recently vacated marketing position. The goal going into the meeting was to secure a full time position. Figure out childcare later. I was reciting this in my head as the CEO said he did not consider me for the marketing position. I almost missed it because I was not paying attention. I was not in the moment. I took a few solid deep breaths and looked around the room with new eyes. I realized I was not there to ask him to hire me. There was something bigger and better in store for me.

Teaching is not my calling

I made it through the math teaching experience. The first day was terrifying as well as exhausting. It was also easier than I thought it would be. Some of the kids remembered me from subbing in their other classes. I heard some of them say, "Yes it's Ms. Mickie! She is my favorite sub." Sure, I love great feedback as much as the next person but, teaching is not my calling. The goal is not to get a full-time teaching job. It is well documented in the media that teachers are woefully underpaid, and a substitute teacher at an exclusive private prep school is not an exception.

On Monday morning the students filed in and the day began. We worked equations and talked about the PSATs. More than half of the sixth grade class had taken the PSATs at least twice already. I did not hear about the PSATs until I was in high school. Over the next few days we worked more problems. I heard about their lives. What time they went to sleep. What kept them up at night.Their trips to Disney, Jamaica and Montana over Spring Break. Some of my classes have quite a few big personalities. They are loud, rowdy and hard to control. I promised them an ice breaker if we worked some problems first. They wanted to know about me. They wanted to tell me about them. One girl told me about her two businesses. This was old news to her classmates. Others wanted to talk video games. An adult hall monitor came in to ask us to quiet down. She said she loved to hear the sounds of laughter, but we were distracting the other classes. We had two icebreaker sessions and made it through just over half of the problems.

The next class was another rowdy bunch, but we stayed on topic for the most part. Many of the students were eager to come up to the board and work the equations. Two boys in particular began to ridicule their friend's use of the zero. They called the zero useless and annoying. I wrote an equation using negative numbers and emphasized why the zero is important. They rest of the class took their revenge on the two naysayers with squeals of delight.

As I left for the day I began to think about how much fun I had, and what a privilege it is to spend time with these kids. The math was no longer scary. I was quite comfortable after the first day. I enjoyed the feel of authority and owning the room, and the room is a beautiful sun drenched space that overlooks a tree lined marsh. The thing is teaching is not my calling. I do not have the desire to "raise the next generation" or "be a role model to the youth." Those were never my aspirations.

But, the more I examine this opportunity the more I see this as an act of service. Giving is an important spiritual practice. With children involved it kicks the experience up a few notches. The time I spend with the kids is filled with joy. I am exhausted at the end of the day and it is not even a full day! I am working on a few other projects simultaneously, but none of them inject as much raw energy into my day as the kids. I am off for two weeks to help Ryan, and work on my other projects. I am grateful for the opportunity, but also looking to what is next, and it is going to be all that I prayed for and more.

Positve thoughts clear the way for success

It has been an exciting week. In fact the entire month has been filled with revelations. Some more obvious than others. For years no matter my relationship with church I observe Lenten season with either giving up something I enjoy, or doing something kind more often. It is a practice my aunt who passed away last year helped to instill in me. This is my first Lent without her so I was particularly resolved to do something intentional to recognize her in a spiritual way.

I gave up saying and believing anything negative. Anytime I had a negative thought I would stop myself. It was hard because it is a habit I have indulged in for quite sometime. Thinking the worst of someone, a situation or even myself as a way to cope with disappointment or the unknown. To help me maintain the new mindset I let people know I was working on being more positive. When my conversations give me the opportunity to say something negative I stop and do something else. Anything else.

As a result of this new practice I feel more positive and happy. In addition to a better sense of well being, I am having more fun. There is so much time left over for other things to include sleep. I have slept more in the past four weeks than I have in the last four years. This is not hyperbole. The week after I found out I was pregnant with Hunter was the last time I remember resting my head on a pillow and drifting off to sleep for more than four continuous hours.

Can all this be attributed to a small change in my thinking? This is the wrong question. The correct question is can a new mindset change my life? The answer is unequivocally yes.

Ryan heads out next week. He had two weeks off from work and we decided to make of the most of the time together. We lived a reverse schedule. Staying up all night and sleeping well into the afternoon. He heads back to the office tomorrow, but not without us spending sometime in the outdoors. Remember that crossbow I received for Christmas? I finally had my chance to play with it somewhere other than my backyard.

Out in the wild blue yonder

What would Oprah do?

It was approximately two weeks ago when I received the text message asking to substitute for three days in row. Was I available? Sure was my quicker than quick response. The fun aspect of teaching is the unpredictability, and flexibility of the schedule. The kids are different every single time. Even when I have met them before. And let me tell you dear reader these teenagers are not at all like the teenagers we once were. One of my biggest challenges is keeping them off their phones. This can be tricky because sometimes they need their phones to access images for art class or their calculator for math.

My final class had rehearsal for an upcoming theatrical performance. The office asked me to stay to help with another class while the teacher went to direct traffic. It is a huge campus. Getting parents and students on and off campus is quite an operation. Half the class wanted to go to the café while, the other half wanted to play basketball. I tried to get them all to the café but, that did not go over well. I let some of them go two at a time. The rest of us waited at the basketball court. I squinted under the beautiful Georgia afternoon sun as it transformed one the schoolyards into a glowing, hazy idyll.  

A woman with long, straight, grey hair styled in a simple chignon approached us with a broad smile. She was thrilled to hear I was her substitute. She said she heard great things about me from the staff and the students. I beamed feeling pleased with myself. We chatted easily for a few minutes when she asked me to come up to her classroom before I left for the day. As she walked away I asked offhandedly what subject she taught. She responded math, advanced math...She threw the end of her sentence over her shoulder casually: equations, simple stuff.

I clawed at my collar bone as if I suddenly found a barnacle attached to it. My jaw tightened as I bit down on my second molars now that my wisdom teeth are gone. I stumbled forward dazed, shielding my eyes as if an interrogator's flashlight shone in them. My Georgia idyll suddenly a darkened tunnel devoid of light. The once vivid colors were all faded hues of blue. It felt as though I was in an episode of the Netflix show Ozark. Someone called out Ms. Mickie. I took a seat staring at no one in particular. Ms. Mickie, my mom's here can I go? Yes class dismissed. I groped around for my purse and tried to regain my composure.

I hate math. No math hates me. It has always hated me, and somehow I found myself in its fiendish clutches once again. I was prepared to tell the teacher I had made a mistake and I was not available the days she needed me. If her dates changed I would not be available then either. I took uneasy steps toward the building. Contemplating the end of my first steady-ish job since my arrival in Savannah. Then, as one is wont to do I thought what would Oprah do. I visualized my tunnel again. I saw a glint of light at the end this time. As I moved in the direction of the light, I realized Oprah was standing at the end holding a sign that had this written on it:

I walked into to the classroom a little more surefooted. I came clean right off the bat. I told the woman and her neatly coiffed chignon that the very last thing I wanted to do is let her and her students down. I continued, it has been years since I worked with equations and would feel more comfortable if I could come in one day to observe the class. She was very kind and gracious. I went back a few days later. She had her lesson plans laid out for me. Homework, quizzes and tests with the most gorgeous answer keys I have ever seen. When I left the building my Georgia idyll returned to me in her all her splendor. I have some homework to do this weekend and I am ok with that. I will be prepared well prepared next week. Thanks Oprah you are the best!  


 

Sold to the lady from the great State of New York

Let's get right to the point shall we. I had my wisdom teeth removed on Monday. I put off having them removed for years. I erroneously believed they belonged in my mouth because they grew there. Over the years I have dealt with the difficult ups and downs of them erupting to the surface. The pain oscillated between excruciating and mind numbing every few months. But the procedure to have them removed filled me dread. I put it off every year at my annual check up. Well dear reader that train came to a screeching halt at my recent trip to the dentist. I have early stage gum disease. Yikes!

My dentist strongly recommended I have the offending teeth removed as soon as possible. I was still skeptical about the procedure until I went for my consult with Dr. T. He was affable, professional and Australian. He systematically allayed every fear I had about oral surgery. He expertly outlined the procedure to include a low dose, pre-op tranquilizer the morning of the surgery. SOLD to the lady from the great State of New York! The worst part of a medical procedure is the anxiety about what could potentially go wrong. What's that you say? The recovery is the worst. No, that is why pain medications exist--along with the opioid crisis. #keepingit100

Monday was D-day. I started my cocktail of tranquilizers and analgesics first thing in the morning. The rest is as they say is a blurry haze. Ryan drove me to my appointment, waited for me to be done and drove me home. I have spent the last four days recovering. I have eaten plenty of bananas, mashed potatoes and ice cream. Folks warned me it could be two weeks before I felt normal again. Apparently some people sleep it off and go to work in the morning. 

I was up and moving on Wednesday. Not because I felt better, but because I signed up for a HubSpot marketing workshop and was not going to miss out. I made it, but definitely pushed myself a little too hard. Savannah is a hotbed of startups and the like. Workshops featuring entrepreneurs, their peers and wannabees such as your truly flock to these events. We were a small group of eagers excited to be in our coveted spot. When I got home I was limp. I still got a lot out off the workshop and even made a fortuitous professional connection. He is a Savannah College of Art And Design professor who launched an arts advocacy organization. 

I took easy it yesterday, and started eating solid foods today. I had a giant turkey and cheese sandwich with mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato. Life is good. 

  

A thing of beauty

Perception is reality

I hated hearing this term and I heard it often especially when I worked in New York. And yet yesterday surrounded by young teenagers listening to them discuss their love lives, as well as the love lives of others, I reminded them that perception is reality. The classroom went quiet. The same thing happened when I told them I love coincidences. This time the question came back quickly: Ms. Mickie what does perception mean? I laughed but my students were serious. They had no idea what the word meant. I told them it is the conclusion people come to whether they have all the facts or not. They gasped with recognition of the concept. I enjoyed the look on their faces as I exposed them to a new idea even if it was not one of my favorites. One of the highlights of the day was a teacher coming into the classroom and asking where Ms. Johnson, the regular teacher, was. I said she is out today. How can I help you? Then directed at no one in particular she asked, "Well who is in here with you guys?" We had a laugh because she mistook me for one of the middle school students.

This sort of thing happens with some frequency here. More than it happened in Italy. I think Americas are more focused on age than Italians. Once someone finds out my age they ask several questions. When they do not believe me I wonder if this is the sort of thing people lie about. Eventually the questions shifts to what do I do to keep the wrinkles at bay. Once upon a time I had an arsenal of skin care products. I have culled it down to the bare necessities of which sheets masks are my favorite. Here is the newest addition to my collection, and yes it rubber.

To take the edge off a long day some folks binge watch their favorite show or have a glass of wine or do a Korean face mask. I do all the aforementioned because why not treat myself when I clearly am so deserving of pampering. I am certainly a fan of the cotton sheet masks, but when I discovered this rubber treasure I could not wait to experience the benefits. The rubber makes it easier to handle and apply which is a great bonus, but what I love most about this mask is the two-step process. First I applied the cream, then the mask. It was a very satisfying experience especially after a long day. I think I look hella sexy too. You see the come hither look in my eye? Irresistible. 

Walmart surprises me sometimes. I expect to find the standard fare of beauty products on their shelves, but if you keep your eyes peeled, pleasant discoveries can be found.