A Warm Welcome to the World

 

Graphic courtesy of Worlde.

On my Facebook page this morning, I read the following welcome announcement from a friend of mine (a teacher) on the birth of her nephew:

 

I would like to welcome to the world my BEAUTIFUL BABY NEPHEW (Mashallah)! I'm so thrilled you got here safe and sound, even though you're a little early. I can’t wait to see you and hold you and tell you I love you. As your aunty I will try to help you in any way I can, I promise to protect you, care for you, sneak you treats, encourage you and tell you that you’re the most amazing person in the world and that you can do anything or be anything you want to be...a rocket scientist! An athlete! Or even a teacher! Again welcome to this crazy, whacky, amazing world!!

I was inspired to share this welcome message (with permission) for a number of reasons:

When you read or hear stuff like this, it gives you reassurance about the potential of goodness in humanity: the media is full of all the badness that we are capable of but rarely shares the good news, usually because it's low profile and it's tucked away out of sight - and, therefore, out of mind.

What if we all went around affirming each other like this? Especially new arrivals and young earthlings. Just a basic gesture of appreciation (a smile is a good start) makes all the difference.

This is such a wonderful demonstration of altruism: it's totally about celebrating another life - in this case, welcoming a new one. How often I am so pre-occupied with my own life, I forget to notice another's - and miss out on something priceless.

And, finally, it's just plain, simple and fun: why do we complicate our lives and worry about what other people think? Why does everything have to be so polished, so pristine, so perfect, so pretencious? Just do it because it's the right thing to do and stop worrying about what other people are thinking of you (because, in almost all instances, they're probably not).

The above welcome quotation is, I'm glad to say, typical of the friend in question. It is sheer lyrical beauty - an expression of what it should be to be human.

Go and write something beautiful for someone today!

Three Nights in a Tent in the Middle of October...?

Graphic courtesy of Wordle.

 

For weeks now, my two kids (age 10 and 13) and their friend from round the corner have been planning their first camp - on their own. To start with, it was hugely ambitious: three nights in a tent in the middle of an autumnal October. Nevertheless, their enthusiasm was infectious: notes, lists, texts and endless discussions between them demonstrated their commitment to this adventure.

Naturally, parents were consulted and had to provide the necessary cautionary advice.

Finally, the day has come, bags have been packed and the intrepid, over-excited trio have launched out on their endeavour - an over-night stay in the caravan in the back garden of the friend-round-the-corner's house.

I hear you laugh and I, too, have laughed - with a laughter gained from the pleasure of observing their accomplishments, their shared enthusiasm, their planning and the ultimate prize: they did it themselves.

I learned much from my observations:

Motivation is a powerful thing. Motivation drove my kids and their friend to work meticulously in planning and organising their trip. They did things of their own volition (such as getting equipment ready and packing bags) that require a superhuman effort on other occasions such as getting ready for a normal school day.

Teamwork overcomes personality differences. My two kids get on pretty well with each other but their are always differences of opinion - naturally. Somehow, these didn't seem to matter, or even surface, on this occasion. The goal was too important, the stakes too high, to let personalities interfere.

A changed plan is still a good plan. Albeit worthy, the original plan was ambitious. Over time, and with adult consultation, the kids realised that their plans needed some rationalisation, but it didn't change the intention or the purpose - or dampen their enthusiasm. The goal remained secure.

Children need validation. If we, as parents, had poo-pooed their ideas, the project would never have got off the ground and the kids may never have attempted anything quite like it again. It was really important that we encouraged their ideas, even the outlandish and unrealistic ones - 'three nights in a tent... in OCTOBER...?' What actually happened, almost by default, is that the children worked out or found out for themselves what worked and what didn't work and rationalised their plans themselves - with a little consultation from others (us adults) with more experience. Our kids were not disappointed - they just saw the rationale and made sense of it for themselves.

As I write, they are living their adventure and, tomorrow evening, we will hear a full recount - and probably learn a good deal more.

If you have learned similar lessons from your own child/ren's adventures, please leave a comment...

In three words, I can sum up everything I learned about life

Graphic courtesy of Wordle

At the beginning of this year, I resolved to begin blogging, and so I did. I was getting on pretty well with it, too: enjoying the process of recording and expanding upon ideas and researching quotes and people. However, this all came to an abrupt halt at the end of February for a number of reasons: March was an intense month with some hairy deadlines to meet, my paid work was unrelenting, I put in a couple of job applications and had a job interview - and my life just felt like it was under a lot of pressure. Not only that, but I had to deal with some big disappointments, one of them being not getting the job! When life comes in for knocks like this, it's not surprising that something has to give - and blogging was one of my victims.

But, hey, it's the Easter break and I'm back - and blogging again...

The title of this post comes from one of my favourite quotes by the American poet, Robert Frost:

'In three words, I can sum up everything I learned about life: it goes on.'

Frost's early years were inconsequential: he drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed. However, on his return to the States in 1915 after the publication of two collections of poetry, Frost's reputation was established.

The quote itself sounds dark, resigned - even cynical. Indeed, Frost was known for his dark, searching meditations. However, for me, the quote projects a quintessential truth about life - something that many people either forget or simply avoid: life isn't plain sailing - it is stormy, treacherous, unpredictable. But it goes on.

I like Frost's pithy reflection on life: it reassures me and I take comfort from the fact that I'm not the only one that finds myself in a battle.

Oswald Chambers said, 'Life is more tragic than orderly.' This, from a well-known and published Bible teacher. Chambers' life was far from orderly and it panned out quite differently from the way he had planned it. Earlier, I indicated that many people are reluctant to accept life as it really is. I don't think Chambers or Frost could be counted in this number but there are countless people that spend their money and their weekends escaping from the reality of life, unable to accept that normal life is one of hard knocks.

At this point, I could reel off countless quotes about resilience, perseverance, determination... there are any number of inspiring success stories that survivors have lived to tell. Failure, mistakes, disappointment and rejection are part and parcel of life - but they hone the character we are and make us into what we become, provided we choose to use those experiences to build us, which reminds me of another favourite quote (forgive me), from David Brinkley this time:

'A successful man is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him'.

My month of March was tough and I wish I could say I handled it well. In any case, it reinforced some important lessons about life and I hope it developed my character and built up my courage. As a life-affirming ex-colleague with whom I still keep in touch with often reminds me:

'That which does not kill us makes us stronger.' (Thanks, Friedrich Nietzsche.)

And, to finish on a wonderfully positive note from Nelson Mandela, one of my personal heroes, who had every reason to give up but proved beyond doubt that life goes on:

'I learned that courage was not the absence of fear - but the triumph over it.'

How have you learned to deal with disappointment?


What lessons have you learned about living the life of 'hard knocks'?


How have you proved that 'life goes on'?



Please share, comment, feed back...

Wendy is Wide Awake and Wondering

A reflective but pragmatic friend of mine (Wendy – that’s her real name) wrote this on her Facebook status:

Wide awake.. Wondering.. What's it all about?? Knowing.. There must be more than this.. Feeling.. This is not how it was meant to be.. Considering.. The real next step.. Contemplating.. The options.. Presenting... The evidence.. Understanding... The impact.. Talking.. In riddles.. Concluding.. It's not that simple!!

I was struck by its simplicity and depth – it struck a chord with me and I wanted to write a blog post about it - she kindly agreed.

Yes, I sometimes lie awake at night wondering. We all must ask, sometime in our life, those big questions whose answers seem as elusive as the sleep that escapes us. The questions usually go along the lines of... Why...? What if...? How...? They are deep, penetrating, angst-ridden and they generally spiral out of seeming nothingness to fill a planet-sized vacuum in our heads that we didn’t know existed – like gas molecules set loose in the universe, they occupy every nook and cranny of our mind so that no other thought gets a look-in.

And I’m sure it’s not age-related or symptomatic of a mid-life crisis: I was asking big questions when I was considerably younger than I am now and I don’t think I really have satisfactory answers because the questions keep re-surfacing.

To be honest, though, I think it’s healthy. Asking questions, I mean. Asking questions demonstrates the rational side of our being: the bit of us that doesn’t operate by instinct but, instead, demands answers and explanations and solutions. However, the frustrating thing is that those answers generally don’t present themselves as easily as the questions themselves do. Which is why the latter keep bubbling away on the back-burner of our mind, constantly popping up at the most inconvenient moments - demanding our attention and having no sympathy for our sleep-deprivation.

That’s why there are philosophers and scientists and mathematicians and historians and explorers and inventors and writers and theologians – because they’re asking fundamental questions. They’re all on a quest for answers – to make life make sense, to make sense of the pain, the anguish, the suffering, the mistakes, the unknown quantities of human existence.

And Wendy is one of them.

‘There must be more than this... this is not how it was meant to be.’

And, yes, it really is not that simple!

I came across a quote today by Jean Paul Richter:

‘Joys are our wings, sorrows our spurs.’

So many wish that life was less characterised by pain, suffering, mistakes and failure and yet it is those experiences that really teach us the wisdom we need to manage our lives better and to teach others. Countless other thinkers have come up with similar truisms:

‘What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.' (Friedrich Nietzsche)

'Life is more tragic than orderly.' (Oswald Chambers)

'Every cloud has a silver lining.' (traditional English idiom)

'If you don’t make mistakes, you don’t make anything.' (unknown)

Even Saint Paul in the New Testament of the Bible states in his letter to the Roman Christians:

'We rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character; and character, hope.'
(Romans chapter 5 verses 3 & 4)

Like a curious six-year-old constantly asking ‘Why?’, questions expand our mind and make us more aware of possibilities and solutions – but that creates yet questions. All of this unleashes the unique imagination and creativity that is characteristic of the human animal – but it brings the added conundrum that we are constantly dissatisfied, constantly seeking to improve ourselves, our community, our world.

Yes, these questions keep us awake at night but they also get us out of bed in the morning and cause us to work for a better experience of our world – and a better future for our descendants.

I think I'd go as far as to say that anyone who is NOT perplexed by such questions is probably in danger of a dangerously complacent existence and is actually missing out on a lot that life has to offer and the wisdom that comes with reflecting on life's experiences.

So, keep asking questions, keep trying to make sense of what seems to defy explanation and watch the threads tie, untie and tie again, one at a time. Reasoning and questioning is a God-given gift: we may not see the answers now but future generations will think better because we asked better questions.

What do you think?

What questions are you asking?

Please leave a comment - especially if your name is Wendy!

In real love the other person always comes first

In the last couple of days, the music world has been reeling from the untimely and tragic death of Whitney Houston, who, in spite of her talent and irresistibly good looks, suffered from drug abuse, alcohol abuse and an emotionally abusive marriage. I recall Whitney's stardom whilst being a student in the 80's and bopped along with the rest of them to 'I wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)' and 'How will I know (if he loves me)'. Although she has been out of the limelight for some time now, it is clear from the vast coverage of her passing and the messages of remembrance that she was still very highly regarded in the music world and has left a huge hole in many people's lives.

But what of the obvious hole that existed in her own life? She was clearly in a desperate situation and was taking prescription drugs at the time of her death to deal with the mental effects of her unfortunate circumstances. No amount of money, fame, talent or rich friends could heal her pain.

In the car today, our kids, my wife and I listened to a song made famous by Queen: '(I Need) Somebody to Love'. As the Glee vocalists thundered through the song and the lead guitar belted out its solo, my 12-year-old daughter quipped, 'This is the perfect song for tomorrow' - which happens to be St Valentine's Day. I smiled inwardly at her innocent remark, wondering if she really knew the depth of what it meant. For many people, so much hangs on that day, that word.

But Valentine's Day is fast becoming just another commercial showcase - as with any other significant date in the calendar: the supermarkets are heaving with gifts and chocolates celebrating 'love' and millions of people spend millions investing in attempting to secure that 'love'. Meanwhile, divorce statistics make one wonder why anyone chooses to tie the knot and the wedding industry tries to make us part with as much money as possible in tying that 'sacred knot', however long it may last.

In the musical adaptation of Charles Dickens' 'Oliver', the central character, feeling abandoned by the world, sings, 'Where is Love?' The world seems to echo this sentiment in the flood of books, films, songs and TV programmes which promise to answer the question in urging us to adopt a version of love that will apparently solve all our worldly problems, romance being purveyed as the cure-all for all that is wrong with the world. In fact, as we all know, this is lunacy: merely another escape route from brutal reality.

But reality need not be brutal - if we really understood 'love'. Not the slushy erotic love which disappears as fast as it is aroused and causes as much pain as is does unsustainable ecstasy, but the solid, determined, unconditional, sacrificial love that defies human understanding, that transforms lives, that overlooks the ridiculousness of our individual quirky-isms, that forgives the frankly intolerable. So many of us bring to our relationships an understanding of love that is demanding, demeaning and destructive - a brand of love that is cheap and most certainly not cheerful: it masks itself as love and then hounds the beauty out of relationships and destroys any chance of two human beings striking up a lasting friendship together. But that is the twisted interpretation of a real love that can, in fact, bring two diverse human beings together to form a bond so strong that the very worst that life can throw at them cannot shake them apart, the kind of love that makes life really worth living, even if everything else is lost.

This love asks not what another person can do for me but what I can do for that person. This love is fearless and self-less, but not blind. It looks for opportunities to build up instead of tear down.

In real love, the other person always comes first.*

But surely that love is unattainable?

No, that love is unusual, yes, but it is not unattainable and it is not out of reach of a single one of us. It just demands that we stop looking out for ourselves and look out, instead, for the other. That takes effort - and time - and practice.

I don't have the answers but I do have lots of questions and I believe that the answers are out there - we have to exercise trust in our ability and trust in each other; we have to exercise grace and forgiveness and humility and understanding; we have to accept - each other and ourselves; and we have to, for God's sake, reject anything that tries to parade itself as pertaining to true love when, in fact, it is the very opposite (read, watch and listen to what the media sell you by all means, but do so with a great deal of caution).

So, Happy St Valentine's Day: enjoy whatever degree of real love you have the opportunity to experience and take the rest with a very large pinch of salt.

'Love never fails.'

1 Corinthians 13v8 (Bible)

*Thanks to Canon J John, from whom I borrowed this phrase, having read his reflections on 'real love'.

My 9-year-old's 'To Do' List

Last weekend, my 9-year-old son wrote his own 'To Do' list. He has never written one before and I have never advised him to write one. However, he announced that he was going to write a 'To Do' list and he did - and he stuck it on the calendar for all to see:

1. The Industrial (that's his train set)
2. Breakfast
3. Get dressed
4. Homework
5. Drumming
6. Trombone
7. Write in diary
8. Lunch
9. Tidy room (pick up 50 things and put them away)
10. Play with Industrial (that's his train set - again)
11. Go swimming
12. Watch DVD and have pizza

Why have I never written a 'To Do' list like that?
It's great. It has everything: work, rest and play - all in a day.
And he has his priority right where it should be - at the top of the list.
The question is, did he do any of it?

At 8am in the morning, he was downstairs putting his train set out - 'The Industrial'. He played with that for a good hour then he had breakfast and got dressed. That's three things ticked off before 10am.
Then he did his homework - unprompted. And he did his drumming and trombone practice before lunch.

The part that was not so successful was the 'Tidy room' item. That, for my son, is very ambitious. He tried but it was little more than a try. However, he'd written it down and he attempted it.

Yes, we did go swimming and yes, we had pizza whilst watching a DVD.

So whatever prompted him to write a 'To Do' list and what can I learn from my 9-year-old?

I do have a 'To Do' list - on the erasable whiteboard in the kitchen but there are jobs on that list that were written so long ago, I've almost forgotten why I wrote them there. Others are crossed off - completed; still others are partially rubbed out so barely readable.

What my 9-year-old's 'To Do' list reminded me was:

a) I need balance in my life: all work and no play was not good for Jack and it's not good for me.
b) I should put my priority at the top and start with my priority - and try and make it a fun one to get me motivated.
c) I need a mix of easy-to-achieve tasks and more-challenging tasks.
d) I need to schedule my tasks: set a start and finish time to avoid delaying or prolonging them.
e) I need to make my tasks ambitious but manageable - anything over-ambitious will not even get started.
f) I need my tasks to be achievable in the time given: my son completed everything he set out to do - well, nearly everything: at least he started on his room.
g) I need to attempt something great every day.
h) I need to be flexible - I may not complete - or I may have to change  - my 'To Do' list

My son was very realistic and very pragmatic about his goals for the day. At the start, he even admitted that he might not get all of them completed but he named the ones he really wanted to achieve - and he was motivated to achieve them, more so possibly because he wrote them down.

What have you learnt about 'To Do' lists?
How do you make your 'To Do' list work for you rather than you working for your 'To Do' list?

Please share your own insights by leaving a comment.

Goodbye, Mr Donaldson

'Some people make the world a better place just by being in it.'

(Anonymous)

Today, we said goodbye to Mr Donaldson. He joined our school as a temporary member of support staff just three months ago but we couldn't keep him longer because the money wasn't there. However, in that time, he has made more impact than I thought was possible.

We held a surprise special assembly for him yesterday: without referring to Mr D, I showed the children the quote at the top of this post: 'Some people make the world a better place just by being in it.' I asked the children what kind of person that might be - they astonished me with the depth and breadth of their answers: caring, responsible, trustworthy, generous, honest, irresistible...! The list went on and on.

I then explained that, even though Mr Donaldson was leaving, he had made such a difference in such a short space of time - and almost without being noticed. How did he do this?

Mr Donaldson is one of those people who sees a need and does his best to meet it without bringing attention to his actions or disrupting proceedings. In the classroom, whilst the teacher is teaching, he will casually and unobtrusively advise a distracted child to focus. Whilst circulating, he talks to the children in an amiable way about themselves and their learning, giving respect and expecting it in return. He will identify the struggling child and give that child whatever he or she needs in order to experience success, be it his own time with the child - or additional resources to aid their learning. He doesn't need to be told what to do or who to support - he has an intuitive response which provides a life-line to the child and is a life-saver for the teacher. He has a unique, laid-back, off-hand manner which is disarming to children but which, at the same time, engages them and demands they do their best. How does he achieve this with individuals who cause teachers to despair of ever making a difference?

Mr Donaldson is relational. He is intuitive. He is resourceful. And he is focused.

Mr Donaldson builds relationships with children which enable him to see into their lives. He builds knowledge about their experiences and their needs. And he builds scaffolding to help children learn and behave - and to manage their learning and behaviour. But it's the relationship that makes the difference.

Relationships are at the core of human experience - and building relationships is a fundamental requirement for success in any field of human activity. Without good relationships, progress stalls and opportunities are missed; good relationships make for good solutions. Good relationships build trust, they build cohesion, they build bridges. Good relationships keep things in perspective: mole-hills remain as mole-hills and crises are managed in such a way as to minimise turbulence and dampen after-shocks.

I have only met one other member of support staff quite like Mr Donaldson - another quiet and unassuming man who made an impact just by being there. It makes me realise what a difference one person can make: people like me need people like them.

Goodbye, Mr Donaldson.

And thank you for making my world a better place...

Phil