Lost in Thought...

I've been thinking a lot over this past week... This often gets me into trouble...

Some say idle hands are the devil's playground--I feel the same with my mind.  If I let it wander, it's hard to rope me back into reality.

I have thought a lot about what the doctor said to me during our interview--about all of the information he threw at me.  The reality is that it took days for me to digest our conversation.  A sixteen-hour car ride seems like the best place to think of such things.

I concluded that I will indeed be a producer--of ideas, of motivation, of goodwill.  I am working on my writing projects, and I absolutely love working with photography and talking with people.  These projects have given me a new passion for life.  I am quite alright "selling tickets," and I believe there are many people that would like to jump on board and join me for the show.

This realization made me think a lot about the second part- "not meet criteria." I was to sell tickets, and not meet criteria.  The logician in me thought it was absurd, because there is criteria for everything these days.  The reality is that I have never done well when I have to bend to the whims of others.  I perform best when I march to my own beat.  I am one of the few that pushes herself ahead.  I am terribly intrinsically motivated, and any external rewards almost shut me down. They insult me.  They tear down my spirit.

I wonder if all writers feel that way.  Or all producers.

I thought about a quote of Emerson's.  Man, if I could pick one person that I had to quote for the rest of my life, it would be him.  He saw the world through the same focus as me--we were kindred spirits, separated by many years.

"Every man I meet is in some way my superior."  ~Emerson

This has always made me think about ego; how so many people aren't willing to see that interactions add value to their lives.  There is always something I can gain from every interaction I have.  It may not always be a positive experience, but at least I have learned something.  That was the greatest lesson my father taught me, and Emerson just stated it more eloquently.

I remember my father telling me long ago that there will be people in life that will give you great lessons.  There will be people in life that will say things with which you don't agree.  The key is to listen (not just hear, but listen!), because you can take something away from every interaction with people.  Even if it is how NOT to do something, you will learn something from those around you.

I believe that people can be wonderful, compassionate people.  They can always be egotistical, self-centered and believe they are the masters of their field.  Everyone has something to learn--some of us are better at admitting it.  In time, I believe everyone will realize they have room to grow, and even blossom.

I know I don't have all the answers.  I know I have made more mistakes in my life than I care to mention.  The reality is that I only made mistakes because I got out there and tried!  I lived, I took risks, and I failed.  It's life.  My ego isn't bruised because of it--I learn, I suck it up, develop who I am, and I move on.  This makes me a better writer, a better teacher, a better leader, and a better mother.  I feel I am more empathetic because I have been there, but I am also wise enough to know that there are people that know more than me.  There are so many that have gone before me, and are many steps ahead of me.  And everyone has something to give me along my journey...

I am not becoming some crazy radical, but I am growing tired of meeting the criteria.  This world constantly has "conditions" to maintain order.  Look around us-is there really order? Because I am not seeing it!  I feel that I can be the most productive when I put my mind to work (instead of idling), and produce SOMETHING.  I like to think, I like to explore the world around me, and I like to talk to people.  I love to take these adventures, put them together, and write about them.  This is where I will be selling my tickets.  Nothing crazy--just being who I am.

Along this journey of twenty-nine years (and counting), I have set a course for who I want to be.  I know that there are so many around me that will contribute along this journey.  Some have already come into my lives, and some I have yet to meet.  I received an e-mail that I will be receiving a list of more contacts for the book.  Something about this e-mail tells me there has been a course SET for me, and it isn't my plan.  Right now, I am just along for the ride.

Serendipity

Serendipity (noun): The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way...

 I do believe that life has been kind enough to hand me what I need when I need it.  People come in and out of my life to shape me into the person that types this post.  There are some people who seem to flutter in quickly, and others who leave a deep permanent impression--as if he stuck his boot in my wet cement sidewalk...

I went to Chattanooga for a series of meetings and interviews.  I was actually excited to have the opportunity to meet with these people, because we have discovered through speaking with different organizations, that we will all have mutual professional benefit from working together.  And since I don't believe in reinventing the wheel, and I like to do things the right way once and use it later, I happily agreed to meet today.

The other reason for my adventure was to interview people for my book.  I can honestly say that I wasn't very certain how this was all going to go.  I was never good at formally interviewing people.  I have the social ability to talk to a wall if needed, so I can carry on a conversation just fine.  But when it comes to asking questions, writing responses, and prompting the guest, I was terrified of what might happen.  Once I met with the liaison, I found that my new friend was feeling exactly the same way.

I don't say this many times in my life, and may not say this again for a long time: my life has been changed from meeting this person.  I know everyone goes about life, bumping into each other and leaving tiny ripples.  But this guy, he smashed his boot right into my cement, and I will never be the same.

We decided to make it a casual interview, and meet for coffee.  This turned into lunch, so we had an opportunity to talk quite a bit.  I knew the interview was not going to go as planned when we sat down and I said:

"So, I am Michelle. I am going to ask you a few questions."

And he responds...

"What's your story?"

To which I can only reply...

"Um... I think I am supposed to be the one asking the questions."

It was an absolutely comical endeavor. We laughed, I was able to vent my frustrations in dealing with all this mess in my head, and I had a person sitting next to me that had already been there and done that.  The great thing is that he was a successful professional being, had a tragic traumatic brain injury, and came out of it a relatively normal human being (which is a lot to say for any of us really).  He is passionate about life, he is thoughtful, asks a lot of meaningful questions, and really wants to get something out of his interactions with people.

I did feel a bit uncomfortable, I must admit.  The only reason is that he served the purpose that I always fill.  At work, at home, and in some of my friendships, people say that I notice random things and always seem to have an agenda in my mind.  I will point out what a person commented, and perhaps the motivation for such comment.  I never realized how transparent I made people feel until I was under examination today.  It seems I was not able to keep any secrets--I was completely vulnerable.

"You like to categorize people, don't you?"

"You always like to leave impressions on people, don't you? Doesn't that become exhausting?"

"Were you a misfit?"

"Were you the ugly duckling when you were growing up? When will you realize you are beautiful?"

"You laugh when you are nervous." (which happened a lot toward the end, because I felt there were few secrets left)

This was definitely not the interview I had planned, but I was beyond thrilled that I made the journey. We walked about the art district for a bit, and I told him about my first ever "date" that I had with a boy. I told him that we were in an art museum, and the boy did not "get" the piece of art.  I know I speak in a very animated style, but I was probably overzealous in describing this painting.  I told all of the parts that made me so passionate about art, and why I loved this piece.  His look changed, and I asked him if something was wrong.

He said, "No, you just made me fall in love with this painting."

It's funny. I hadn't remembered that memory until we walked up to the stairs of the museum.  It seems like it was a lifetime ago.  Indeed it was--my new life started only a few years ago.

At the end of our journey, we talked about careers.  How we are pushed to choose one that has socially redemptive value.  He was an oncologist, which is a highly admired profession.  I told him that I have been teaching for five years, and asked him what was the limit of how long I had to be in a social redemptive field (I was only joking)?

"Five years!! I was going to say six months."

:-)

After studying me for a while, he told me that I needed to sell tickets, and not meet criteria.

I apparently looked very puzzled by this statement.  He said I am not a spirit that can be content in meeting up to other people's expectations of me.  Frankly, that can be exhausting for people that don't enjoy rigid structure and conformity.  I need to produce what I have of myself, and my audience will find me.  I think he is a wise man, and will be a terrific partner in this journey.

At the end of our walk, he asked me if this would give me enough for a book.

I told him that got us through about Chapter 1.

And so the journey continues...

When Bad Things Happen to Good People

"I would start the book by mentioning that there was a lot of blood, and some broken bones... for much of my life..."  

                                                                                 -random conversation at chain grocery store

I like to observe people, and I like to take in all that is happening around me.  I am a friendly person by nature, and also a curious human.  I do like to converse with people, and I find myself in the most random conversations.  I try to embrace the random, because it usually leads me right where I need to be.

Last night I was speaking to someone about tragedy.  We talked about how some people deal with trauma in healthy productive ways, and others self-destruct.  I wondered if it was family and community support, or genetics, or even personality that made a difference in why some people carried on in spite of unspeakable things, and others curl up at the first sign of trouble.

Losing a child, experiencing a natural disaster, enduring a physical attack, losing a job/family/spouse- all of these things can be devastating.  Some people come out of it in one piece, and even say they are stronger because of the trauma.  There are others that wander around as ghosts of their former selves, and it is as if they started a completely separate life once the tragic event occurred.

Today, as I was going about my daily errands, I participated in the random chitchatting that seems typical now that I want to hear the stories of those around me.  I have found myself asking certain questions, pausing at the right moments, and making mental notes of what I need to write down later.  The reality is that I wish I could make a "time-out" signal, and quickly grab a pen and paper to make notes for the remainder of the conversation.  I don't think this town is ready for this new dimension of strange... So, I try my best to engage in conversation and remember the details for later.

I was asked how my job was treating me, and this same person knew I had been working on a few writing projects.  I casually mentioned the book, and got the classic response: "I have been told I should write a book."  Normally I would grin and wonder when the conversation would be over.  I would laugh to myself and think about telling her how hard it is to be a writer.  But I know this lady's story, and she does have book-worthy material...

She brought up some pretty significant sexual harassment and assault, violence in high school, and a kidnapping and beating.  At this point, it might even skip past book-worthy and move straight to Lifetime movie.  This story started our lengthy discussion about how some people can come out the other side of horrific events, and almost seem better for it.

Are some people just more resilient?  Are there some souls that are just more determined to exist, and to make their lives matter?  I wonder if purpose makes a difference in all of this--when there is a child, or family, or something to live for, then there is a reason to go on.  The easier the mind can process what happened, and make sense of moving forward, then healing can occur.  I am not saying it is easy.  But I am saying it is indeed possible. And luckily this topic is very interesting to me...

I've been swimming in research on traumatic brain injury for some writing projects, and I am amazed at the stories I read.  There are some people that should not be succeeding.  They are beating all sorts of odds and making productive gains in their lives.  I have to believe that these are the people with fighting spirits--they want to live so that their story can be told.  There needs to be a voice for these warriors.

And now there is...  This project has been in the works for a while now, but the wheels are finally in motion.  I have been traveling for interviews and meetings, and writing like crazy.  I do feel that I have had more purpose after my attack, and with each tragedy in my life, I have had exponentially more purpose and drive.  Theoretically, I would be some sort of superhuman at this time in my life (or at least skip to some bonus level), but that is besides the point.  The point is that I recognize that I am a strong, capable woman that sees I need to give a voice to other warriors.  I am glad I have found my purpose, and that is what keeps me moving on.

Where Do I Go From Here?

For the past two days, I have been at a gifted education conference for differentiated instruction.  It seems like I returned from one trip to unpack, do laundry, attend work for a few days, then ship out again.  For this conference, I brought along high expectations of uncovering more secrets about myself.

For those of you that didn't know me when I was younger, I was pretty darn gifted.  I was an extremely intelligent and motivated creature, and always had a willingness to push farther and reach lofty goals.  Looking at me now: I am still motivated, and pretty darn persistent.  I worry that the "giftedness" is gone though.  I know that a lot of information came back to me post-accident, but it seems my processing just isn't as quick as it used to be.  My mother commented that it's probably only noticeable to me--that most people still see me as sharp and able to do incredible things.  Gee, thanks mom... I think you HAVE to say that... :-)

Anyway, back to the conference.  While I was there, I met incredibly interesting people and brought a wealth of information home to use on creating a motivating and autonomous environment for my students.  It really made me reflect on what made me so different from some kids I teach.  My upbringing wasn't perfect--we lived in poverty in the beginning.  My parents each worked multiple jobs for us to get by, and I have plenty of pictures of myself as a toddler resembling "trailer trash."  One of the differences I noticed was that there were always books EVERYWHERE.  I remember taking the TCAP test survey and commenting that I had more books than the largest choice on the survey, and wondered what I was supposed to choose for an answer.  I also know that my parents were excited and motivated to learn, and weren't afraid of making mistakes.  I believe this was a major difference in how I ended up being so freakin' awesome.  They taught me to get out there and explore--the worst thing that could happen was that I failed.  At least it would be fun along the way!

I wish I could say that's how it really happened.  In reality, I was a fairly tightly-wound young person.  I wanted everything perfect, and I was terrified of making a mistake.  I was afraid of the world around me, but I desperately wanted to join it.  I was intimidated by college, because I knew there were people smarter than me and I wouldn't always be the best.  I didn't really know my "place" in everything, and it scared me.  I craved order and hierarchy. Mass chaos was terrifying.

The accident was probably the best thing that could have happened to me.  I know it's strange to say, but I learned to loosen up, take risks, make mistakes, and enjoy life.  I learned to try new things and explore the world around me.  I broke out of my shell and decided that I was going to get involved in everything I could get my hands on.  I will tell you that many days I am exhausted, but I am ENJOYING life.  It's really a great concept. More people should do it.... :-)

I glanced at my calendar at the start of the conference today... March 16th... That means 8 months until I turn 30.  I have 8 months to complete my list.  I can't believe all of the cool things I have done so far, and I still have 8 months to go!  I am still working on the race and reading my list of books (I need to start updating on my progress).  Drum lessons have gone smashingly (yes, pun intended), and I am lining up my road trip and fish-catching excursion.  I am working on all the other adventures as well, and have quite a great 8 months planned.

And more great news? I had been working on a writing project. Actually it's a book idea, and I traveled to talk with people about the project.  I have been put in contact with publishers, and people are arranging interviews.  Everything seems to fall into place for this project, mostly because I believe they are stories that need to be told, and people do want to read them.  I also feel that a fine legacy of mine would be to publish stories for people to read for generations to come.  I am beyond thrilled of this opportunity, and wonder if I will get to sleep tonight. :-)

I also got accepted into graduate school for a second Masters Degree.  Now that I have so many great options, I need to start making decisions.  Life is a process, and I know there's time to get everything done.  No rush- I am more about the journey than the destination.

I am now looking out into the future, and can't even imagine all of my options.  Ultimately, I have every choice in the world laid before me.  Every day I ask myself, "where will I go from here?"

Letter of Recommendation

This week I wrote my first letter of recommendation for a college... EVER.

I have been teaching for five years, but typically deal with students that are not in very competitive studies after high school.  When I did teach high school, it was in the special education setting--those students were thrilled they got to the point of GRADUATING high school.  They had goals, but it was such an unfair battle for them to even get their diploma.  Being competitive for college would have been a whole other battle they weren't willing to fight.  But that gets me on another soapbox...

Back to the letter...  I agreed to write the letter, and was very enthusiastic about recommending the student for any scholarship or programs the school had to offer.  There was no question about her abilities--I wondered why I had such a hard time coming up with the words.

Anyone that has known me for more than a few minutes has found I rarely have a hard time coming up with something to say.  I always have a thought or opinion, and I am not afraid to share it.  I will gladly sing this student's praises, but I had to start thinking about why I couldn't write the letter.

I pulled out a file of all of my letters of recommendation from the past.  I have a folder where I have them stored away from normal viewing.  I was hoping to find a pattern in the letters, and some ideas about what colleges would want to hear.  After all, I had been accepted to a variety of schools and was given scholarships--these letters must have done something?

I will say that I must have only glanced at these letters in the past.  Or maybe I really didn't understand their meaning while I was young.  Really, I think I didn't want to hear someone say wonderful things about me.  I didn't want them to say all these great things to colleges, hoping to impress them.  I have never been a person that worries about impressing those around her.  I have always marched to my own beat, and I have always been satisfied with that.

That is where my struggle ended.  I realized that my problem was that I did not want to list all of the wonderful things this student did solely for the hopes of impressing someone.  I was already impressed by this student, but wanted to write the letter so my real feelings would come across.  I didn't want the letter to feel fake, or to look like a form letter of regurgitated compliments.

So, I told stories about her compassion and honesty.  I pointed out how dedicated she is to helping students with disabilities.  How she has a sense of humor that eases those around her.  How her motivation will never let her down.

I hope she reads the letter.  I hope the schools pay attention when they read it as well.  I wrote the letter "To Whom It May Concern" as if I was talking to her.  I think that's the way a letter of recommendation should be.  Anyone can make a random list of qualities that someone might fit.  I hope it makes more of an impact when I explain all the ways she has made an impact on my life.

I came across the letter from my high school English teacher.  She wrote a two-page letter of recommendation in which she detailed very specific instances of how I impressed her with my motivation, dedication, compassion, and ability to lead.  She talked about my writing abilities, my insatiable desire to read, and my sense of humor.  You could tell that she sat down and thought about who she was writing about.  The letter was incredibly personal, and was very touching to read now.

I hope this student will pull out this letter in ten years or so, take a good read, and realize what an important part she has played in my education career.  I do believe I also need to make an appointment to speak with my English teacher.  I believe that visit is long overdue.