The Places We Go

Having writer Geraldine Mills visiting has helped me to see new things about my students, my environment, my networks. Sometimes I drive, not noticing the mesh of colors, the doe in the field, two rabbits behind a tree. My students have been inquisitive and focused. She has brought her perception, humor and unique way of being in the world to New England. For me, it provides more validation of the power of words and the world of writing. Too often, I allow life to crowd my writing time. Some of this is a bad habit--like checking email instead of writing. Geraldine speaks of writing in her car before she goes to work. I have the luxury of two mornings a week. Viewing time differently would help. Coming from scarcity crowds the small moments I could spend writing. I've learned to fill every moment and need to let time out of its cage. Time sidles up to me in parking lots, taps me on the shoulder in the early morning. So I resolve to be a good friend to my minutes and hours, nurturing each brief respite so it will stretch lazy legs and become strong. It is possible to fit a lot of creativity into a small space, necessary even.

Making Preparations

I read poetry to second graders, high school students, and college students. Today the second graders were rapt as I read a poem by Carl Sandburg and another by Lucille Clifton. We talked about the layers of a poem, internal rhyme; that subtle music. One student raised her hand and said that poems should make you feel something. Yes! I am lucky to be able to share my passion for words. Some days I feel as if I no longer have time to write--I'm rushing here and there trying to teach enthusiasm for what I love and scarcely do during this busy season. I'm making preparations for a quieter winter, snow and dark evenings where thoughts can flow freely.

Right now I'm awaiting Geraldine's visit. She has arrived from Ireland today and will come to stay with me for the week, beginning tomorrow. I know I'll recover some of the magic I felt in Ireland. When I am able to write each day, I feel balanced and energized. It's important work though it may never yield any financial reward. This is a season of reevaluation. I will look to the sky for answers.

What Weather Has to Teach Me

It began snowing while I was teaching this afternoon. That's enough to distract me, never mind a classroom of 22 teenagers! October! Snow! It began as a cold rain, that kind that makes you want to wrap yourself in a blanket and sip chai or hot chocolate. Suddenly big snowflakes pocked the ground. I can't remember a snow in October though I do remember some white Novembers.

Later I ran into an old friend and her husband; people I have not seen in a long while. Health challenges have changed their lives. I remember how I saw things differently after having cancer. The blues became cooler, reds were hot to the touch. There were nuances I had missed like the gradation of gray on the underside of a cloud. How many days have I wasted? Hours? Minutes? Always I resolve to do it differently but mostly I forget and dash around.

Let the wild snows come. I will gather in those I love most, even if from afar. I will teach acceptance--of one another, of temperature fluctuations, of the crazy way in which we blunder in relationships and in life--only to come out on the other side stunned by what we learned. Growth is a lifelong process and I hope I have "miles to go before I sleep." There is so much to teach and I am not done learning.

Holding onto Autumn and Promises of Peace

Autumn is a fickle season; the patchwork of leaves tempered by wind and rain. The storm last week scattered the leaves across my wooded yard and driveway. I want the leaves to hold on a little longer so that Geraldine can see them in their glory, painting the landscape with a riot of hue. The maples are crimson; birch is burnished gold. Yesterday we walked at Mansfield Dam; a walk I hope to be able to go on when my friend and collaborator on this collection of poetry, Geraldine Mills arrives. I want the winds to be soft as a breath so autumn will not give in so easily. It's a good quality--not giving in to pressure. I teach it to teenagers and try to practice it in my daily life. Finding my own truth is not the same as following the proported truth of others. We all have a path that makes us feel most at home, most productive.

Barack Obama won the Nobel Prize for Peace which caused some to celebrate, others to be angry because he hasn't yet proven himself. Don Williams, publisher of New Millennium Writings and an eloquent writer, said it better than I ever could but I think the gist of his writing was that Barack Obama thus far has been a unifier rather than a divider. He found a place in his administration for his chief rivals. He hosted a dinner for John McCain on the eve of his inauguration, and he invited both a gay bishop and a fundamentalist minister to his inauguration. He has made progress by coming to the table around issues of nuclear proliferation and our environmental challenges. The answers to the complex problems facing America and the world will never be solved by dividing us. The urge of some to invalidate everything he has done thus far is not useful. The Nobel Prize for Peace is an invitation to Barack Obama. It is a vote of confidence--go forward and do more. The world needs a visionary leader. America needs a president who is ethical and forthright. I believe the Nobel committee consciously cast their vote for a candidate who demonstrates unifying leadership and a vision of a more peaceful world. Will America get behind it?

Mansfield Hollow Dam

Wild Wind

The weather is unsettled today, going from thunder to balmy breezes within an hour. Now the evening chill has taken over and wind is shaking the autumn tinged leaves from the trees. Torrential rain kept me from walking this morning but I took this shot right before dusk when the weather suddenly turned mild. I'm trying to write work that matters and some days I'm not sure what is relevant in a constantly changing world. I try to teach the way I live, with eyes open and senses keen. There is much yet to discover. I love driving home under a canopy of brilliantly colored leaves. Today the branches were swaying as if to push me forward--go here. I have always liked extremes in weather because it shakes me out of complacency. I notice icicles hanging or snow swirling or today, a wild wind animating trees and strewing the ground with riotous leaf confetti.

Night in New York

New York City in Autumn

I spent a charmed weekend at the Surdna Convocation in New York City. Meeting the other fellows was inspirational....trips to Haiti, Ghana, Brazil, China to teach, learn, explore. The other fellows represented schools crossing the United States--Los Angeles, New Orleans, Washington D.C., Mississippi, Alabama... A strong dedication to students and the arts was a common thread. Sometimes it feels as if I'm in a world that has forgotten beauty. Spending a weekend with dancers, visual artists, writers, actors, and musicians--all of whom believe that education in the arts isn't an extracurricular activity but a necessity gave me new ideas and strengthened my own committment to nurturing young artists. How lucky I am to have had an opportunity to broaden my own artistic vision. Although I am not a city person, finding my inspiration in open space, mountains and seascapes, I was happy to be in the company of fellow artists. New York was bustling with life and light and the full moon and cloudless sky welcomed me home.