On the Horizon

I woke up this morning with the memory of discovering a perfect sand dollar on the beach. I could feel my sharp intake of breath at the joy and surprise. I could viscerally feel the coolness of the damp shell and the rough grains of sand clingy to the surface. When I picked it up, I thought the sea had given me a gift, maybe it wasn’t like winning a million dollars, but it felt like some kind of magic.

I didn’t open my eyes, instead I just remembered that moment alone watching the sun light the Pacific. I breathed in the peace. For a girl, who grew up in the mountains, I feel like the coast is home. Before long, all the “to do’s” of the day came crowding in, filling my mind with busy noise. I have to teach two classes the concept of civility today. Eleven year olds and civility. No wonder I am trying to gather strength from my memory of the ocean.

I have thoughts on this idea of “teaching civility,” but, I am trying very hard to bring my best everyday. Part of that is silencing my cynicism. I came up with an idea of grouping my class into random teams and giving them a bag of materials to invent games and the rules that go with the games and seeing if they can play nice, because isn’t that what civility really is? Playing nice? I already know which kids will be successful, which kids will struggle and which kids, will try to steal, eat, or destroy the supplies. There is that cynicism again. Maybe the kids will surprise me. Yeah. It could happen.

Anyway, I got up, and started getting ready for work and realized it wasn’t even 4 am. I was excited. Not for work, but excited because I entered an art show. I submitted some photos to the local art center for the September show “On the Horizon.” I have never submitted work to an art show before, but I have always wanted to try. The opening is tonight, and I am looking forward to seeing my work on the wall.

The irony of the title. ” On the Horizon” is not lost on me. I am doing my best to approach my last months in the classroom “one day at a time.” But really seeing the light in the very near future is getting me through every day. It doesn’t feel like a burden, more like a final stroke on a painting that’s almost finished. I can step back and see the brilliance and the flaws and the parts I would change and the parts I love. But mostly, I am done.

The art show is exciting to me because it is the first step in my promise to myself to show up for what is in deep in my soul. Sometimes I have thought I have wasted my creativity on a bunch of kids who don’t appreciate it, but I am trying very hard to reframe my thinking. Maybe thirty years with kids has given me more creativity, filled me to the brim with ideas and experiences. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I have promised to no longer hold back the pictures, stories, movies written in my heart. This is their time to be born. The horizon is right in my reach.