“The object is to keep busy being something...as opposed to doing something. We are all sent here to bring more gratitude, more kindness, more forgiveness and more love into this world. That is too big a job to be accomplished by just a few.”
Richard Nelson Bolles
I was surprised when suddenly it was Friday this week. It was a very active time in the classroom. There were moments where I realized that what I'd been doing for the past bunch of minutes was reacting to things that were happening around me. Since things in a classroom really don't stop happening EVER, I was rushing from one thing to the next- helping, suggesting, mediating, preventing, presenting... Time passes very quickly when I'm putting out fires and jumping from lesson to lesson. I can't really distinguish if the reality of the room is being influenced by my mental experience, or if it is the other way around.
This morning I had a wonderful reminder of how the way I'm being is often more important than what I'm doing. It was the same feeling in the room as yesterday (of a LOT going on in loudness) but I didn't have the same feeling in me. This morning I had been contemplating trust: in the process, in the children, in learning and mistakes, in gentleness, in connection and listening, and most importantly in observing.
Every year the group of children is different and the flavor of the challenges is different. As much as the permutations of the environment change, I'm still there, as I've been for a lot of years now. Today I noticed that these kinds of days happen, it's inevitable, but I've changed in how I am during the day, and also in how I process the day when it's over. I mentioned it to my assistant, who'se been right there with me for three years plus, that gradually and slowly we've also changed. I remembered how I used to feel during these kinds of heavy days, how I would think, and how I would be.
This work is a marathon work, and you get better at it (better, meaning: a better observer, a lighter person, more patient and optimistic) very slowly. At least I do. I was happy today to remember how I was, and to notice in the midst of the small chaos, how I can now be.