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Please go to www.bigskylifecoach.com for my current posts.
Yesterday marked my last day of the year teaching with the CMPD (Center for Music by People with Disabilities) program at a local middle school. I have been fortunate to be a musician in the program for ten years now and look forward to many more, depending on continued grants to fund the program.
I am one of many musicians that rotate through the schools, and was the first one hired by my musical mentor and the program’s founder DKM. He chose to end the school year with the two of us.
Many of the children at this middle school we also taught in the elementary schools, so we have developed a solid relationship and trust with them.
Yesterday I brought my guitar and some drums, and DKM had his usual magic tricks and musical lessons. We invited the kids up to have a “solo.” I accompanied on guitar. One girl, B, has consistently belted out tunes from “The Sound of Music” for the last year. DKM challenged her yesterday, asking her to sing a NEW tune, even if it was “la la la.”Her eyes looked at me- round moons of anxiety. I hadn’t seen that look since I first met her in third grade, when she was barely able to say her name let alone sing anything in front of a group.
One of her buddies in the class suggested a song she had sung in choir. Although still hesitant, a slight nod of her head indicated she would comply.She slowly put her head down to her chest, confining her shy nature and adverting her eyes to build her confidence. B started singing softly, barely audible to me as I strained to find the pitch her voice was presenting. Then a slight crescendo developed and I located her pitch.
DKM jumped on his flute, matching my chords. She sang “Da da boom shoo bop, da da boom shoo bop.” There was a faint hint of a familiar melody line she sang to my ears. B lifted her head slightly, and as her voice became louder I heard “Stand by me….” incorporated in with the “boom shoo bops” and a song was born.
As I recognized what she was singing, I increased my vocals to support her confidence. Her head lifted further, and a smile formed on her face. I went with her energy. I stood up. We started belting out “stand by me.”
The reaction that followed took me by surprise. One at a time, all ten students in the room slowly started joining in. Some of these students have barely talked this year in the times I have been there. Within minutes, students and teachers alike were all standing up belting out in forte “Baa da boom shoo bop” while we sang “stand by me.” Natural movement accompanied and soon everyone was rocking back and forth.
I got chills….the good kind. For five minutes we were stuck on a musical island, and I did not want the moment to end. There are days when I wonder if the role I play can possibly make a difference. Then there are magical musical moments that provides me with the answer. For B and the rest of the students and staff in that classroom, I hope that our moment together will remain etched permanently in their memory. Because, just maybe, when we all feel a little uncertain of ourselves we can recognize that those are the times that we grow. Those moments, strung together, create joy. Those voices, joined together in common unity, create peace and love.LIFE LESSON: Stand by Me. I will stand by You too..and together we can create a bit of harmony.
No matter what our age, no matter how mundane our life can be, there are always more firsts. Enjoy the following photos taken on the first day of June, 2010.
and finally………………….
LIFE LESSON: Treat each moment of every day as if it were a first, and live each day as if it were your last. js
What a weekend! Each year on Memorial Weekend my husband leaves town for an annual guys trip. I hang with the three kids, and try to have some special time with them. This year we were invited to spend the weekend with my brother and his family at a Forest Service cabin approximately nine miles from the Canadian Border, just past the tiny town of Polebridge, Mt. I have never stayed at a Forest Service Cabin, but according to my sis-in-law this place was really nice compared to many of the ones she had stayed in previously. The cabin used to be owned by the Wurtz family, and was gifted to the Forest Service and restored in 2006. The history of the place is amazing, and depicts the hardships and joys of living off the land in days gone by.
We had an amazing time, even though the weather was far from amazing. We hiked, played games, ate s’mores, watched the kids put on skits, and most memorable, witnessed a huge grizzly bear saunter through the property right in front of our face. Words don’t do justice, and unfortunately the camera didn’t either, but here are some pictures from our weekend. I hope you enjoy!
I hope you all have a fantastic week. When you have an extra second to spare, hop on over to Mamalode for my latest Tween Chronicles piece: From Dimples to Pimples!
http://www.mamalode.com/2010/06/tween-chronicles-from-dimples-to-pimples/
LIFE LESSON:
In the silence of the woods I listen to the wind
The night brings the patter of the rain on the old tin roof
The laugher I hear coming from children tucked into sleeping bags
as they tell stories brings a smile to my face in the dark.
Here, in this moment, I find myself fully aware, and immensely appreciative
Oh, these precious and fleeting moments
Piece together the best times in my life like an heirloom quilt
Life is like a Triathlon.
Last weekend I participated in a Sprint Triathlon: 500 M swim, 12.4 mile bike, and 5K run. The event was the second that I have done in my life. The first one was twenty-four years ago . When I signed up for that one I was in the “spontaneous” time of my life, living in New England without much of a plan. My training consisted of inconsistent bike rides, a few runs here and there, and not staying at parties as long as my other friends. I didn’t “train” per say, or recognize the significance of the task I was about to try to complete. My recollection. although a bit fuzzy, was that it was NOT real fun. I struggled in the pool, never having any real form to apply and my only goal being to not drown. The bike ride consisted of winding roads which I did on my mountain bike with thick tires. I remember wanting to puke when I started running, but somehow managed to cross the finish line, and reward myself with a beer.
Fast forward to my forties. An epiphany about what is “fun” started in my mid-thirties, consisting of running, exercise, and challenging my body beyond it’s limits. Call it a second chance, if you will. My sister-in-law hatched an idea in my head last summer about doing a triathlon. It was a great opportunity to expand my preference for long-distance running into swimming and biking, since those activities are kinder on my knees. I enjoyed the process of feeling more confident in the water, and getting out to ride my bike more often.
Our start time was not until 10:30am, since there were only six pool lanes. We were excited to be in the same heat and sharing the same lane-although a little weary of making each other laugh in the pool. We were assigned to the very last lane, and Mona was right against the side with the swimming pool lift. As we started swimming I pulled a little bit in front of her, later to find out it was because I swam into her lane and she ran into the lift. Here I thought I actually was FASTER than her! We ended up finishing the ten laps together and ran out the carpeted run into the transition area.
The transition area is where you store your gear for the next leg of the race. Before the race we racked our bikes, laid out our biking clothes and set a towel to stand on when we came out of the pool . As organized as I thought we were I had trouble squeezing my wet body into my biking shorts. As we took off from the gate I noticed I had forgotten to zip up my windbreaker so I wished Mona well and she was on her way. The bike ride was scenic, winding around the Bitterroot River, up around several hills. I tried to stay focused on the beautiful spring weather. We had lucked out, as the forecast had called for rain/snow mix and high winds. We had a few sprinkles, but Mother Nature came through for us. 6.2 miles out, and then back. I kicked it in a gear when a few participants from the next heat passed me. Even though I was going just against myself I still had a bit of a competitive drive.
From the bike I entered the transition area again. I threw off my windbreaker, helmet, and the wool socks I had thrown over my running shoes to keep my feet from freezing while I was biking. I couldn’t find my running visor so I rummaged through my bag and found a winter hat, which I hastily threw on. I was clumsy and tired but ready to run. As I ran out the gate I felt pretty good, but also heavy in the legs. I was encouraged by a few well wishers telling me I looked strong. Well, if I looked strong, I surely was strong, right? It took about a mile to get my rhythm, then that familiar feeling of running came back. I knew that feeling well-the rhythm of my breathing coordinating with the rhythm of my feet, which I have been practicing diligently for seven years now. My familiar friend, my running-just a little bit slower than I was used to.
I made it through the 5k and managed to even pass someone on the last leg of the race. My family and Mona were there cheering me on at the finish line, and I finished strong. Unlike 24 years ago I felt powerful. Vibrant. Healthy even! I came in at 1:39:30. I was hoping to come in under two hours so I felt very proud. Mona kicked it in at 1:29:57 and tackled her insecurities about the swim.
Life is like a Triathalon. Sometimes we are swimming or sinking, pedaling hard or coasting, running wild or stepping slow. Life makes us keenly aware, in the times of transition, that there is a clock ticking. Transitions are not always easy, or smooth. Life presents opportunities to practice those transitions over and over but no matter how we have our thoughts laid out or our gear in place we may be missing essential tools and stumble. The important thing is to learn from it, keep going, be flexible, be sturdy. Let your friends and family be your biggest cheerleaders, and draw strength from their insight. Recognize it is okay to lean on them for support when you feel weary. Learn to ask for what you need.
If I can do it, you can to. I am so thankful I learned this little lesson twenty-four years after it was presented to me the first time. And that, my friends, is why I tried the Tri again.
LIFE LESSON: If at first you don’t learn the lesson, try, tri again.
Okay, so I have been watching with interest in the last few years as the media (as ever so reliable you know) continues to talk about the benefits of dark chocolate. I have continuously been trying to improve my health in all realms of my life, and once I make a commitment, I usually am pretty good at following through. I also am pretty good at going overboard. When I decided to start running five years ago it didn’t take me long to commit to the overzealous goal of running a marathon. I have now run three and am looking forward to my first triathlon in twenty-four years.
Same with eating chocolate it seems. I decided on a whim the other day to buy some really expensive chocolate at the grocery store. My justification was that I could bring it home to savor a tiny bite each day to fulfill my commitment for a life filled with health and wellness. I LOVE chocolate. But I have never really bought any really good chocolate in fear that, much like my running, I want the chocolate marathon, not the little sprint.
Day one was good. I was good. I ate healthy, got in a wonderful run, and then rewarded myself later with an ounce of that delicious dark chocolate bar. Day two: not so good. Terrible, in fact. I ate well that day, but around seven pm my chocolate alert button went on. I carefully unwrapped the ounce. It looked way too small. So I took another square. Then another. Elaine’s voice from Seinfeld echoed in my head….”can you please spare a square?” Even though this was not toilet paper, it seemed just as important in my chocolate crazed head. Pretty soon the whole chocolate bar was gone. I felt really satisfied, for about one minute. Then I felt guilty, and then bloated.
The next morning I had a workout with my Physical Therapist, who has been helping strengthen my knee. It was torture! I felt like the velvety, smooth chocolate had literally melted into my butt and thighs, and doing squats was not pleasant. Later that evening I felt a little more guilt, as I confessed to my husband that our precious chocolate stash had, indeed, been eaten by yours truly and not the already-been-proven-guilty children of the family (including the dog).
I have come to the realization that what works well for some people sometimes does not jive for me. I have a sweet tooth for chocolate, and am missing that part of my brain that can eat just one square. First, I know that I will NOT be able to keep big huge chocolate bars in the house. Like many women, it is not that I lack willpower. I have immense willpower for most things, just not when it comes to eating chocolate. Secondly, I am an emotional eater. Life, in it’s hardships, is sometimes like the bitter chocolate bar…and I don’t like that kind! When that happens I tend to use food as stress relief. I need to work on putting other tools in place when I find myself spiraling down from stress. Third, I need to find an alternative. Today I found it…chocolate milk!!! I LOVE chocolate milk, and find that I can get that sweet fix. I also feel full after a glass, whereas little tiny pieces of chocolate are just NOT going to cut it for me!
What do you do to stave off emotional eating? This chocolaholic would love to hear from YOU!
LIFE LESSON: When life throws you bitter chocolate, make sweet chocolate milk and drink it up!
TWEEN CHRONICLE TUESDAY on Mamalode! How many of you can relate to this one?
http://www.mamalode.com/2010/05/tween-chronicles-dogma/
It’s Tween Tuesday again on Mamalode! Hope you are all having a wonderful week! Don’t forget to check my FB Big Sky Life Coach page for daily quotes and inspiration.
Tween Chronicles:
We have been walloped lately with not-so-spring-like weather. I am not complaining, so much, but it is a challenge after a bit of spring fever. I still have the fever, but we don’t have the spring!
A few years back: preparing for the teen years?
So I have been looking for ways to embrace this weather. For one thing, I am hoping it means a better summer, with less forest fires and more time on the river for my husbands new venture as a fly fishing guide. Also it is forcing me to recognize that weather is much like life. We can’t control everything, so why not make the best of the situation?
I have had several friends lately who have gone through some very difficult life changes and tragedies. I have been so impressed with their dignity and strength in such challenging times. They seem to have a remarkable ability to find the pocket of light. We can all learn from them, each other, and the sky.
The other day I made a conscious effort to watch the sky. It started out snowing in the morning, then turned to rain and wind. It was so nasty out I scrapped the idea of an outdoor bike ride and went to the local YMCA instead. Inside, as I sat on the stationary bike I watched the storm roll across the valley, with it’s dark, ominous clouds. After I left the gym I ran a few errands in town, literally being blown into the store as the wind whisked me forward. When I made it outside, after fifteen minutes, though, I was completely surprised to see a pocket of sunshine. The warmth enveloped me, as I paused to enjoy a bit of sunshine.
The sun didn’t last long, but it was just enough to boost my mood, and my energy. Here is wishing you all pockets of light and rays of sunshine even during the worst of life’s storms.
LIFE LESSON: When you are faced with tough adversity and life seems hard to endure, remember there will be pockets of light that come when you least expect.
Last weekend I watched my three kids enjoy a fun local run, for the YMCA. I had no plans to run this year, as my sinuses and cold seem to be getting the best of me this week.
It’s always hard for me to be on the sidelines of a race. Since I became a runner, I’m quite attached to being IN the race. I’m not a fast racer, and not trying to win by any means, but I love to push myself, and to enjoy challenging my body beyond my limits. But this day was for my kids.
I didn’t ask them to be involved. They asked ME. Which I loved. As a parent, I spend a lot of time telling my kids what to do. That’s kind of hard to admit, but it can be true. Sure, I encourage them, and hope that they make good choices, but I also am the voice of “clean your room”, or “please take out the garbage” or feed the dog!”
It’s nice every once in a while to know that what Mark and I try to model, as parents, is sinking in. Even though this may mean our children can also be temperamental and stubborn. Yes, they learn modeling on ALL levels. But at least a few of the positive traits are starting to shine through.
They other thing I am enjoying is that they are building camaraderie between themselves-defining their relationships with each other, and supporting each other. This, of course is mixed in with sibling rivalry, but they are learning to communicate and have a voice.
Life Lesson? As my kids move forward in life, it is important for me to take a step back and let their relationships develop among each other.