Hello!
For some time now, my mom and I have been on a mission to fade our age spots. At 49 years old I notice every line and sag that seems to appear over night. Most of the time, I am not bothered by the “effects of gravity” but with age spots I feel differently.
I have three; pencil-eraser size spots that dot across the upper portion of my cheekbones. I dub them the “equator” because when I peer into the mirror I envision an imaginary line connecting them thus dividing my face into the “northern hemisphere” of eyes and forehead and the “southern hemisphere” of nose, mouth and chin. To a regular person on the street, I am sure the equator is not noticeable; and to date, no one has stopped me and declared, “Wow, look at your equator!” But none-the-less I fret over their presence.
Over the past few years, both my mom and I have gone from cover stick to cosmetic lotions in our attempts to lessen the age spot’s visibility. We have tried natural remedies, Dr. Murad’s age spot fader, Clinique’s brand and the latest and greatest recipes exulted in supermarket news magazines. Dr. Murad’s, to be fair, produced the best results for me but the price of a one ounce bottle of “wonder lotion” was more than I could afford in my currently jobless state.
Just last Friday my mom exclaimed her latest discovery of whole milk and hydrogen peroxide. Apparently you mix it up and dab it on the spots daily. She has not tried it yet and I cautiously wait to hear of her results. If the next time I see her, and she smells a little “sour” I’ll know, she may be onto something.
Anyhow, I go on about this topic because of my two daughters. Well, not really about their smooth, even-toned, age spot-free skin but about the passage of time between them and me. Both girls are in their early twenties, finishing up their education and laying down foundations in their career and social lives. As I remember from my days with my mother, she just did not get it and I expect I don’t either.
For example: texting, Facebook and twitter. This constant compulsion to ‘converse’ at all hours of the day and night through meals and shopping and even classes (they better not) is insane. Why not pick up the telephone or dial the cell and TALK; say your thoughts with your mouth and listen with your ears and respond. All this thumbing and beeping is frantic, distracting and nerve wracking.
In my day, thumbing meant standing on the side of the road and hitching a ride to some other destination. Perhaps, not wise, but definitely less virtual. Alas, my age spot rears it’s awful grey-brown color.
Another mind-boggling behavior: sex. Now, I’m not prudish. I “get it” when it comes to attraction and the whole boy-girl game thing, but “friends with benefits” and casual oral sex? I’m confused.
In my day there were some girls that “did” and more girls that “did not” at least not with just anyone; perhaps their steady boyfriend. But now days, it feels like sex is expected as part of the whole boy/girl dance: boy eyes girl at school, girl texts boy, they meet up at football game and then hook up after. I don’t get it. What happened to mystery and anticipation? My sex age spot? I’ll keep it.
Lastly, there is the whole bitch/bullying thing. What is this all about? Female behavior between other females as always been tense due to jealousy, insecurities and boys, but this escalation of fighting and pulling hair and ambushing in the school hallways is way too intense.
And there is the whole realm of cyber bullying. Both sexes are behaving badly in this regard. Nothing is private and there are no cool down periods between encounters. Because of this and the split second transmitting of un-thought-out thoughts, young adults are at risk to the point of their lives. What ever happened to civil discourse or taking a break? Or that time old quotation, “I’ll see you at the football field…after school…tomorrow.”
Thankfully both of my girls don’t participate in perpetuating this problem and have been fortunate to not be a recipient of this bad behavior, but still where are we going as a society with these deeds?
So, again, I’d rather keep and even be proud of my age spot of person to person telephone calls and meetings to discuss and work out differences.
In some ways the “more things change the more things stay the same.” I mean for all the new tech and digital hocus-pocus, we still face the foundational issues in relationships that require communication and time to resolve issues. TIME TO RESOLVE. That is the key; we need to take a moment to inhale and think, to decide what is important to say and what is not, and what kind of action we want to take and when. All of this takes time.
And with the passage of time comes age spots…perhaps age spots are not such a bad thing after all!!
Well, I have got to go…I have to telephone my mother (and hear her voice), then ask her how her milk and peroxide treatment is coming along?
Have hope,
Donna
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Yellow Butterfly
Hello
It is autumn in Upstate New York: beautiful leaves, crisp air and my son's Fall soccer season. With the beginning of school and homework along with so many soccer games, the frantic pace of life can make one oblivious to the loveliness of mother nature all around us.
Each Saturday morning, I hunker down in my red folding chair on the sideline of my son's soccer field. I bring my blanket because of the wind that whips down the field to send a morning chill down my spine. I usually set up my chair next to my friend Amy and her daughter Carys.
Sitting still has often been a difficult task for me. I like to 'move' and I like to 'do'. It takes an extreme amount of effort for me sit still and watch my son run up and down the field. I chat with Amy and I listen to the chatter going on all around me. There are many moms and dads running after their little children while trying to carry on a conversation. I over hear snippets of chat about school and homework, or about activities these families have planned after the soccer game. Between the noise of the game, the running around of siblings and the chatter of conversations, Saturday mornings on the sidelines is busy and chaotic.
That is unless you are Carys. Carys is my first grade friend who always has a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. She sits next to her mom and politely answers any question I have for her on that particular morning. And some days, Carys just sits quietly.
One morning, while busy-ness was happening all around Carys and me, she poked me in the arm. Her poke snapped me out of my temporary "zoning out" due to watching the back and forth action on the soccer field. She leaned over to me and whispered, "Look, a yellow butterfly!"
My eyes followed her little finger pointing towards the green grass near the sideline of the field in front of us. Her pointing followed the butterfly's dainty dance along the tops of the blades of grass and eventually up into the air and away.
She looked at me with her big toothy smile and said, "Wasn't that beautiful?"
I looked at her, smiled and agreed, "Yes, it was soooo beautiful."
We sat there together enjoying the moment. Soon the butterfly returned. This time we both watched its dance. I leaned over to her, "Do you see the little white butterfly near by?" She squinted her eyes and searched. When she found it she looked at me and sighed, "Oh yes, it's so tiny."
And that is how it went for a few minutes; the two of us, sitting and watching.
Eventually both butterflies few away and our attention returned to the soccer game. The noise of the playing field again filled our ears. We settled into our happy chatter and before long the moment passed.
Upon reflection I wondered how many moments like this I have missed because of the activity surrounding me. So many good activities, like watching one's son's soccer game, grab the attention of loving, caring, well-meaning people to the exclusion of nature's grand show. The butterfly or perhaps a bee buzzing from dandelion to dandelion, gently nudging our consciousness from the "to do" towards the "to be." The "must do" towards the "must be."
The game went on, and eventually came to an end. I'm not sure whether we won or lost. But I am sure of the excitement that was palpable as each mom and dad hugged and congratulated their little soccer player for a job well done. Cleaning up, and folding up, and prodding little children towards the parking lot took precedence as the next team prepared to take the field.
I too, engrossed in activity, said my good-byes to other parents and friends. Then, I squatted down to look Carys in the eye..."Thank you sweetie, for sharing your yellow butterfly with me. It was the best part of the whole morning." She smiled and nodded, then took her mom's hand and headed off towards the parking lot with her family.
I watched grateful for the moment; standing on the sideline of a lovely green field, surrounded by colorful trees and enveloped in a brisk, crisp autumn wind. Not moving, not doing...just being.
Yellow butterflies are lovely.
Have hope.
Donna
It is autumn in Upstate New York: beautiful leaves, crisp air and my son's Fall soccer season. With the beginning of school and homework along with so many soccer games, the frantic pace of life can make one oblivious to the loveliness of mother nature all around us.
Each Saturday morning, I hunker down in my red folding chair on the sideline of my son's soccer field. I bring my blanket because of the wind that whips down the field to send a morning chill down my spine. I usually set up my chair next to my friend Amy and her daughter Carys.
Sitting still has often been a difficult task for me. I like to 'move' and I like to 'do'. It takes an extreme amount of effort for me sit still and watch my son run up and down the field. I chat with Amy and I listen to the chatter going on all around me. There are many moms and dads running after their little children while trying to carry on a conversation. I over hear snippets of chat about school and homework, or about activities these families have planned after the soccer game. Between the noise of the game, the running around of siblings and the chatter of conversations, Saturday mornings on the sidelines is busy and chaotic.
That is unless you are Carys. Carys is my first grade friend who always has a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. She sits next to her mom and politely answers any question I have for her on that particular morning. And some days, Carys just sits quietly.
One morning, while busy-ness was happening all around Carys and me, she poked me in the arm. Her poke snapped me out of my temporary "zoning out" due to watching the back and forth action on the soccer field. She leaned over to me and whispered, "Look, a yellow butterfly!"
My eyes followed her little finger pointing towards the green grass near the sideline of the field in front of us. Her pointing followed the butterfly's dainty dance along the tops of the blades of grass and eventually up into the air and away.
She looked at me with her big toothy smile and said, "Wasn't that beautiful?"
I looked at her, smiled and agreed, "Yes, it was soooo beautiful."
We sat there together enjoying the moment. Soon the butterfly returned. This time we both watched its dance. I leaned over to her, "Do you see the little white butterfly near by?" She squinted her eyes and searched. When she found it she looked at me and sighed, "Oh yes, it's so tiny."
And that is how it went for a few minutes; the two of us, sitting and watching.
Eventually both butterflies few away and our attention returned to the soccer game. The noise of the playing field again filled our ears. We settled into our happy chatter and before long the moment passed.
Upon reflection I wondered how many moments like this I have missed because of the activity surrounding me. So many good activities, like watching one's son's soccer game, grab the attention of loving, caring, well-meaning people to the exclusion of nature's grand show. The butterfly or perhaps a bee buzzing from dandelion to dandelion, gently nudging our consciousness from the "to do" towards the "to be." The "must do" towards the "must be."
The game went on, and eventually came to an end. I'm not sure whether we won or lost. But I am sure of the excitement that was palpable as each mom and dad hugged and congratulated their little soccer player for a job well done. Cleaning up, and folding up, and prodding little children towards the parking lot took precedence as the next team prepared to take the field.
I too, engrossed in activity, said my good-byes to other parents and friends. Then, I squatted down to look Carys in the eye..."Thank you sweetie, for sharing your yellow butterfly with me. It was the best part of the whole morning." She smiled and nodded, then took her mom's hand and headed off towards the parking lot with her family.
I watched grateful for the moment; standing on the sideline of a lovely green field, surrounded by colorful trees and enveloped in a brisk, crisp autumn wind. Not moving, not doing...just being.
Yellow butterflies are lovely.
Have hope.
Donna
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Prayer
Hello!
I have been thinking about this post for a couple of weeks; ever since I read the book, "The Prayer Chest," by August Gold and Joel Fotinos.
I read many books every month. I read all types of genres. I especially enjoy spiritual texts. I believe that there is spiritual truth in all religions and that regardless of the faith one chooses to follow, it is one's responsibility to educate oneself to other people's spiritual beliefs. I do not believe, as some do, that to read other tenets of faith leads to "falling away" in your own faith. I also do not believe, as others do, that there is only one faith that has all the answers. Having said this, I continue.
In the book, "The Prayer Chest," the authors, basically write a parable to teach the reader three important lessons about prayer. The parable is heavily Christian in its vocabulary. What makes the text meaningful to me, is its practicality of thought. You see, my religious history is full of rules; do not behave like this, do not eat this, be sure to give this much, and so on and so forth. Failure to abide by these rules results in consequences like not having your prayers answered. In fact, even in prayer, one had to approach God in a certain format. If your prayer was not answered, alas, you did not ask in the correct manner.
Religion is tough on people. I mean, look at the world today. What was meant as a private reflection to bring personal peace and serenity, has turned into a public display of violence and grief...and it does not matter which belief system you subscribe to, all of them become toxic and ugly.
What I liked about the book, and this is not a glowing recommendation for its text in its entirety, is that the three rules, I gleaned, were practical and made sense.
Rule One: Prayer is answered through you.
This is true! As much as we have been led to believe, praying towards the ceiling (or floor) or sky or a candle (or shrine) etc. does not incite God to magically answer your prayer. The truth of the matter is that the essence of our prayer is our desire to accomplish something in our life. It is our deepest hope for our life, whether health, wealth, love, security, or whatever. Our prayer stems out of our circumstance thus even as we speak from our situation, we are already formulating a direction of how to get our deepest desire (our prayer). Therefore, ultimately, we end up answering our own prayer.
Rule Two: Prayer is answered when you listen.
This is true! How many times can you recall that when you set your face in the direction of your desire, you ran into people or situations that "taught" you your lesson, or showed you a way. I imagine if you look back on your deepest desire (your prayer) you can recall a book, television program, article, or person who "just happened" to have an insight into your specific desire.
Rule Three: Prayer is answered when you welcome everything.
This is true too AND for me, this truth was/is the hardest to accept. I can honestly say, that during the times, I accepted my life situation as it was, I learned the most beneficial lesson, and received the answer of my prayer most expediently. When I, however, sulked, complained, moaned, groaned, stamped my foot, denied the blessing, I wallowed in my unanswered prayer and experienced pain and stagnation. I can honestly say that rule number three, is the hardest for me to follow. I am finally "getting it" and moving forward more consistently.
Recently, my much anticipated and awaited children's book was released by my publisher. This event was/is exciting and scary at the same time. I am encountering new situations in relation to this book and my interaction with people, almost every day. My book was my private jewel that is now public, and as exciting as that is, I am sensitive to what others think and say about it. My prayer for its release is answered, and now I have new prayers that must be answered. Everyday, I remember rule number three, look for rule number two, so I can do rule number one. Does that make sense?
And so, my exhortation to you (and to me as well), is that you chew on these three rules, swallow them, and allow them to give you the nutrition they promise, so you will grow strong and affect your world, and others as well.
Okay, I hope I haven't been too preachy today.
Have hope.
Donna
I have been thinking about this post for a couple of weeks; ever since I read the book, "The Prayer Chest," by August Gold and Joel Fotinos.
I read many books every month. I read all types of genres. I especially enjoy spiritual texts. I believe that there is spiritual truth in all religions and that regardless of the faith one chooses to follow, it is one's responsibility to educate oneself to other people's spiritual beliefs. I do not believe, as some do, that to read other tenets of faith leads to "falling away" in your own faith. I also do not believe, as others do, that there is only one faith that has all the answers. Having said this, I continue.
In the book, "The Prayer Chest," the authors, basically write a parable to teach the reader three important lessons about prayer. The parable is heavily Christian in its vocabulary. What makes the text meaningful to me, is its practicality of thought. You see, my religious history is full of rules; do not behave like this, do not eat this, be sure to give this much, and so on and so forth. Failure to abide by these rules results in consequences like not having your prayers answered. In fact, even in prayer, one had to approach God in a certain format. If your prayer was not answered, alas, you did not ask in the correct manner.
Religion is tough on people. I mean, look at the world today. What was meant as a private reflection to bring personal peace and serenity, has turned into a public display of violence and grief...and it does not matter which belief system you subscribe to, all of them become toxic and ugly.
What I liked about the book, and this is not a glowing recommendation for its text in its entirety, is that the three rules, I gleaned, were practical and made sense.
Rule One: Prayer is answered through you.
This is true! As much as we have been led to believe, praying towards the ceiling (or floor) or sky or a candle (or shrine) etc. does not incite God to magically answer your prayer. The truth of the matter is that the essence of our prayer is our desire to accomplish something in our life. It is our deepest hope for our life, whether health, wealth, love, security, or whatever. Our prayer stems out of our circumstance thus even as we speak from our situation, we are already formulating a direction of how to get our deepest desire (our prayer). Therefore, ultimately, we end up answering our own prayer.
Rule Two: Prayer is answered when you listen.
This is true! How many times can you recall that when you set your face in the direction of your desire, you ran into people or situations that "taught" you your lesson, or showed you a way. I imagine if you look back on your deepest desire (your prayer) you can recall a book, television program, article, or person who "just happened" to have an insight into your specific desire.
Rule Three: Prayer is answered when you welcome everything.
This is true too AND for me, this truth was/is the hardest to accept. I can honestly say, that during the times, I accepted my life situation as it was, I learned the most beneficial lesson, and received the answer of my prayer most expediently. When I, however, sulked, complained, moaned, groaned, stamped my foot, denied the blessing, I wallowed in my unanswered prayer and experienced pain and stagnation. I can honestly say that rule number three, is the hardest for me to follow. I am finally "getting it" and moving forward more consistently.
Recently, my much anticipated and awaited children's book was released by my publisher. This event was/is exciting and scary at the same time. I am encountering new situations in relation to this book and my interaction with people, almost every day. My book was my private jewel that is now public, and as exciting as that is, I am sensitive to what others think and say about it. My prayer for its release is answered, and now I have new prayers that must be answered. Everyday, I remember rule number three, look for rule number two, so I can do rule number one. Does that make sense?
And so, my exhortation to you (and to me as well), is that you chew on these three rules, swallow them, and allow them to give you the nutrition they promise, so you will grow strong and affect your world, and others as well.
Okay, I hope I haven't been too preachy today.
Have hope.
Donna
Monday, April 19, 2010
Cheerleader
Hello.
For the past few evenings, when I watch TV, a Mutual of Omaha commercial comes on. Honestly, their commercials are confusing. I watch them, and then look at my husband, and ask him if he got it. We both must be dense because more often than not he does not get them either.
Except for last night.
The commercial depicted a gentleman, who for some reason, became disabled by losing a leg. The gentleman spoke briefly about his situation and then said he had an "Aha" moment and realized that losing his leg was not the worst thing that could happen in his life. Then the Mutual of Omaha symbol came on the screen, and an announcer said something noble and it was over.
As our usual practice, my husband looked over at me and said, "Did you get that?" I replied, "You know Ron, I did. All through the commercial I saw the faces of my patients who experienced similar situations."
As a physical therapist, over the years, I have worked with numerous amputee patients. Something I distinctly remember in the first few treatment sessions when I worked with these patients, was that it did not really matter that I knew my anatomy and physiology. It did not really matter that I knew all about exercise and assistive devices.
What my patients needed was a cheerleader. If I could help them to sort through the "where do we go now" of the situation, they would be on board.
Everyone needs a cheerleader.
For the last twelve months, almost to the day, I have been looking for full time employment in either the field of Physical Therapy or Elementary Education. I have degrees in both, and in both, hiring is extremely limited. Because of the practicality of being near my disabled son, I would like to stay in this area. Because of the uncertainty of the economy, health care and state funding, jobs in this area are scarce.
I am in a "where do I go now" situation. I need a cheerleader.
To be honest with you, I feel all cheerleadered out. I think I spent all my "optimism," my "let us not look at the down side," and my "this is a livable situation," on my patients and my son's cancer fight. I do not have any more reserve. For the first time in a very long time, I am not feeling very hopeful, and am not sure there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I hope that things will turn around soon. I really do. I have so many things to share with children or patients yet. I have so much left to do. I really want to feel connected to my professional aspirations again. I want to be a cheerleader once more.
I am trying very hard to
have hope.
Donna
For the past few evenings, when I watch TV, a Mutual of Omaha commercial comes on. Honestly, their commercials are confusing. I watch them, and then look at my husband, and ask him if he got it. We both must be dense because more often than not he does not get them either.
Except for last night.
The commercial depicted a gentleman, who for some reason, became disabled by losing a leg. The gentleman spoke briefly about his situation and then said he had an "Aha" moment and realized that losing his leg was not the worst thing that could happen in his life. Then the Mutual of Omaha symbol came on the screen, and an announcer said something noble and it was over.
As our usual practice, my husband looked over at me and said, "Did you get that?" I replied, "You know Ron, I did. All through the commercial I saw the faces of my patients who experienced similar situations."
As a physical therapist, over the years, I have worked with numerous amputee patients. Something I distinctly remember in the first few treatment sessions when I worked with these patients, was that it did not really matter that I knew my anatomy and physiology. It did not really matter that I knew all about exercise and assistive devices.
What my patients needed was a cheerleader. If I could help them to sort through the "where do we go now" of the situation, they would be on board.
Everyone needs a cheerleader.
For the last twelve months, almost to the day, I have been looking for full time employment in either the field of Physical Therapy or Elementary Education. I have degrees in both, and in both, hiring is extremely limited. Because of the practicality of being near my disabled son, I would like to stay in this area. Because of the uncertainty of the economy, health care and state funding, jobs in this area are scarce.
I am in a "where do I go now" situation. I need a cheerleader.
To be honest with you, I feel all cheerleadered out. I think I spent all my "optimism," my "let us not look at the down side," and my "this is a livable situation," on my patients and my son's cancer fight. I do not have any more reserve. For the first time in a very long time, I am not feeling very hopeful, and am not sure there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I hope that things will turn around soon. I really do. I have so many things to share with children or patients yet. I have so much left to do. I really want to feel connected to my professional aspirations again. I want to be a cheerleader once more.
I am trying very hard to
have hope.
Donna
Monday, January 25, 2010
Double Standard
Imagine this:
Bright, ambitious, attractive female...
Political campaign for mayor...no governor...no make it senator....
Background check reveals nude pictures in Playboy....
A righteous political party reeks havoc, disrupts political rallies, maligns candidate in the press..
Bright, ambitious, attractive female gives up her campaign.
Now reality this:
Bright, ambitious, attractive male...
Political campaign for senator...
Background check reveals nude pictures in Cosmopolitan...
A righteous political party continues to endorse, funds political rallies and feeds press glowing family friendly information...
Bright, ambitious, attractive male wins his campaign.
DOUBLE STANDARD....
Donna :o(
Bright, ambitious, attractive female...
Political campaign for mayor...no governor...no make it senator....
Background check reveals nude pictures in Playboy....
A righteous political party reeks havoc, disrupts political rallies, maligns candidate in the press..
Bright, ambitious, attractive female gives up her campaign.
Now reality this:
Bright, ambitious, attractive male...
Political campaign for senator...
Background check reveals nude pictures in Cosmopolitan...
A righteous political party continues to endorse, funds political rallies and feeds press glowing family friendly information...
Bright, ambitious, attractive male wins his campaign.
DOUBLE STANDARD....
Donna :o(
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Hey Jude...
Hello
Yesterday, my very brave, strong beautiful friend, Judy, died from the disease process of Ovarian Cancer.
Judy was a wonderful woman...smart, funny and caring.
I met Judy in the early ninety's while working at my cousin's private Physical Therapy practice. Judy was one of our PTA's (physical therapy assistants). Judy had an energy that was over the edge. When Judy walked into a room, everyone smiled and could not wait to hear of one of her crazy, fun exploits.
Judy was also sincere. Patients loved her. She was intuitive and smart and she used those gifts to connect with people. Every patient liked working with Judy. She healed many people.
Judy faced breast cancer and then a reoccurrence with ovarian cancer. She faced cancer the same way she faced everything in life---straight forward and with a strong will. She is my heroine.
Judy loved everything. She loved her family, her friends...her camp and motorcycle...fishing and kayaking...I could go on forever.
Judy just loved having fun.
I will miss Judy,
Donna
Yesterday, my very brave, strong beautiful friend, Judy, died from the disease process of Ovarian Cancer.
Judy was a wonderful woman...smart, funny and caring.
I met Judy in the early ninety's while working at my cousin's private Physical Therapy practice. Judy was one of our PTA's (physical therapy assistants). Judy had an energy that was over the edge. When Judy walked into a room, everyone smiled and could not wait to hear of one of her crazy, fun exploits.
Judy was also sincere. Patients loved her. She was intuitive and smart and she used those gifts to connect with people. Every patient liked working with Judy. She healed many people.
Judy faced breast cancer and then a reoccurrence with ovarian cancer. She faced cancer the same way she faced everything in life---straight forward and with a strong will. She is my heroine.
Judy loved everything. She loved her family, her friends...her camp and motorcycle...fishing and kayaking...I could go on forever.
Judy just loved having fun.
I will miss Judy,
Donna
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Happy New Year!
Hello!
I cannot believe how long it has been since I last wrote. Believe me, my tardiness is not due to lack of ideas.
Transitions. I am in transition. Transitions are hard. Any woman out there who has given birth to a child can certainly relate to that statement. But transitions do not only happen in the labor and delivery room.
Transitions happen all the time. I know at the schools where I substitute, the concept of transitions occupy a vast amount of the school day. Students have to transition from the bus to the classroom. They transition during the day between specials or subjects. Then they have to transition to home. It is hard for students to stop one thing and then focus their minds and bodies toward another thing.
Transitions happen to adults as well. I am transitioning from a master's program to trying to find employment. My daughters are transitioning from Fall semester to Spring semester in college. My husband just celebrated his 51st birthday and he is transitioning into the mindset of what it means to be in the "youth of old age."
With transitions come some very good things. Transitions force us to evaluate where we are and what is important. Transitions have the potential to motivate us to dig deep inside, to find the passion to move forward. Transitions are necessary in life to help us appreciate and adjust.
So here are some of the things I have learned from helping my students during transitions.
First: use your zero voice and stop what you are doing.
Second: listen to the instructions.
Third: decide what you have to do to carry out the instructions.
Fourth: make a plan.
Fifth: follow through with your plan.
Sixth: be kind to others as you put your plan in place.
Seventh: reach your goal and be proud.
Eighth: be ready to listen again and repeat.
These are simple steps. They are practical and doable. They are valuable...whether we are students in school or students in life. I hope you take them to heart and practice them in 2010.
Have hope,
Donna
I cannot believe how long it has been since I last wrote. Believe me, my tardiness is not due to lack of ideas.
Transitions. I am in transition. Transitions are hard. Any woman out there who has given birth to a child can certainly relate to that statement. But transitions do not only happen in the labor and delivery room.
Transitions happen all the time. I know at the schools where I substitute, the concept of transitions occupy a vast amount of the school day. Students have to transition from the bus to the classroom. They transition during the day between specials or subjects. Then they have to transition to home. It is hard for students to stop one thing and then focus their minds and bodies toward another thing.
Transitions happen to adults as well. I am transitioning from a master's program to trying to find employment. My daughters are transitioning from Fall semester to Spring semester in college. My husband just celebrated his 51st birthday and he is transitioning into the mindset of what it means to be in the "youth of old age."
With transitions come some very good things. Transitions force us to evaluate where we are and what is important. Transitions have the potential to motivate us to dig deep inside, to find the passion to move forward. Transitions are necessary in life to help us appreciate and adjust.
So here are some of the things I have learned from helping my students during transitions.
First: use your zero voice and stop what you are doing.
Second: listen to the instructions.
Third: decide what you have to do to carry out the instructions.
Fourth: make a plan.
Fifth: follow through with your plan.
Sixth: be kind to others as you put your plan in place.
Seventh: reach your goal and be proud.
Eighth: be ready to listen again and repeat.
These are simple steps. They are practical and doable. They are valuable...whether we are students in school or students in life. I hope you take them to heart and practice them in 2010.
Have hope,
Donna
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