Ever since I became aware of you and the incredible way in which you share your life, the underlying takeaway for me is this: whether poems, paragraphs or hundreds of pages, the written word has been reintroduced to me in a very meaningful way...all raw astonishment.
Even down to a thought or idea scribbled on a scrap of paper, all of these things tell someone’s story. Thank you for walking me back to everything I’ve read here, and all the things I’ll read along my way. Love you, girl. ♥️
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. I'm saving it in a "book of thoughts" I keep for saving other people's wise words. And maybe this April will be the time when I commit to wiring some of my own words. It feels like a big step, but also the right time to take a risk. What's the risk? My powerful inner critic, I guess. Maybe that's one of the many things about children I love - the inner critic just isn't there yet. I remember asking my daughter why she didn't like math. "Because 4+4 = 8 every time. It's boring." No inner critic - just her awesome take on why math facts weren't doing it for her!
I love your daughter’s answer. Kids are brilliant and then the world gets ahold of them sometimes and shakes them up.
The author of this poem, Linda Pastan, passed on January 30th of this year at the age of 90. I didn’t know of her until I found this poem. I’m glad you’re saving it. I did as well. I’m going to get some of her books and find out more about this exceptional woman.
Isn’t that incredible, about language... that every written work in English has been created with only 26 characters... (ironic, that my adopted distant second language, Danish, has three additional vowels å æ ø and there are fewer words than English ... 🤔) and music, every song with eight notes ... harder with harmonica, even harder in bagpipes ... even this comment, it has never, ever been created ever before and I’ll continue to create — as will you and others — comments that have never been created before... all with just this 26 letters... the definition of expanding infinity... or not, I’m not a physicist.
Reminds me of when I was at a newspapers where everything we created ended up on newsprint, one step above toilet paper, our best creative slapped onto the paper with big fat dots of ink that spread into the other dots ... the good artists complained, the great artists used the medium restrictions to create even greater art. It was magical to watch!
The less you have, it seems, the more creative and focused you get with what you have... human beings are fantastic fonts of infinite creative energy... all 8 billion of us alive rn... 🤯
I like your phrase, “expanding infinity”. I stay in my own orbit most of the time, but The Isolation Journals picked me up and tossed me right into the middle of brilliant, kind, and thoughtful folks who have a story to tell.
It’s easy to be consumed with my daily events, but now I save a part of myself to go looking for the extraordinary. I read every post here and marvel at how we all face challenges, confront the unknown, all the while writing things that have never been written before.
Suleika and her band of merry friends have no idea how much they have enriched my life. It has been something I didn’t know I was missing, but now simply do not want to be without. Your reply here is a perfect example of why. Thank you, Gerard.
I think about infinity a lot, probably more than is healthy ... infinity forwards and backwards. The latest thing I saw was a terrifying video graphic of how our solar system is hurling through space at 440,000 mph, with all the planets flinging themselves around the sun and we’re all just held in place by the simultaneous attraction and repulsion of massive planets and stars and god knows what else... no duct tape; no wires; no strings ... and over the course of human history — a very small sliver of time in the life of our solar system and galaxy — the stars have remained relatively in the same place relative to us. We know this because the Greeks and Romans named the same constellations we see today... But everything is hurling forwards (or backwards, who knows) at this fantastic speed and has been since .. 14 billion years? And in the vastness of it all, despite the billions upon billions of words spoken and written, nobody has ever created your exact comment to me nor this one to you. How’s that for a unique gift to each of us?! Powerful sh*t when you stop and just let that thought seep into your bones..... thank you for your kind words; I fling stuff out there like Wadsworth Longfellow shot an arrow into the air...
My mind is refusing to grasp the concept of the solar system hurtling through space at 440,000 miles an hour. How is it being done without duct tape, wires or strings. How, at such speed, are the candles on the coffee table not flung into infinity, forward or backward?
The very thought of your reply is terrifying, but at the same time, thrilling. To me, this very small sliver of time is everything. It is, all at once, the past, present and future.
Quantum physicists have postulated that the way in which we experience time is an illusion. That it doesn’t happen in a linear way. That in reality, the past and the present, there’s no difference. The past is happening right now and it will always be happening.
I feel all the other arrows whizzing past my head along with yours, Wadsworth Longfellow.☺️ That’s what keeps me up late at night, pondering the reality of only 26 letters in the alphabet. ☀️🌙💫
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
Dynamic cohort journaling sounds highly inspiring! I'm in. Children...they are my lifeblood. I taught young children for 29 years, and one of my all-time favorite moments was when beautiful, little, four-year-old Rashad looked up at me (his then 50-something, gauze skirt-wearing, silver braided, toe sandaled teacher) and said, "Miss Mary, you are a really good rapper." I laughed with such a joy; we hugged and shared a mutual respect at that moment that I will always treasure. (I used to make up rhyming songs to encourage the children to line up, put the cap on the glue sticks, etc...such fun to be spontaneous and have to think on my feet.) The children loved my songs. They would even request them!
Oh, the memories I have of the children in my first grade classroom! Children are beautiful creatures, aren’t they? And they keep you on your toes with their innocently uncensored questions and thoughts in life!
“I’m trying to look at everything around me with fresh eyes, to seek out and hold onto wonder.” Me too, Suleika! Thank you for the reminder.🙏🏾
Year's ago, I was at work in a heap of tears because my first cat (as an adult) got sick, and I was afraid that he would have to be put down. My boss’ daughter had come into her office after being dropped off by her dad, saw me crying, and said, “Why is Ms. Tammy crying?” My boss replied, “Her cat is very sick, and she’s upset” to which her daughter replied, “Don’t stay here and cry, Ms. Tammy. Go home and play with Victor while you can.”
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
What a child has taught me! I realized while writing about my one month in a mental illness facility, for a storytelling performance, that my 18 years old son, showed me being present for me, each time he visited me while being so scared for his mamma”. He showed me the ability of being present for someone else thru their crises, even though deep inside he was scared. It’s not all about me, but having the courage to be present for others no matter how scared I am.
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Prompt 234 - Write about a time a child taught you about, or reminded you of, something important in life.
I am terribly blessed with my current part-time job as a custodian at an elementary school. I look forward to working my evening shift because I can spend a few moments interacting with the kids as they go home. And as I enter the classrooms to empty trash and recycling, the teachers are grateful for a brief conversation – they yearn for some “adult” time at the end of the day. The kids are funny, and the teachers are family.
I needed a job to get me out of the house. “Living” in isolation for 7 years after my wife died was affecting my sanity, my balance, my sense of wonder and hope. Life had no meaning anymore.
That quickly changed when I started work at the school. These kids are so little! Like little people. They are in another world with no inclination of valuing others by worth, ability, appearance, or any other outward aspect. Each day is a new day – a clean slate. Each day they smile joyfully, eager to learn.
Soon, I realized that I was learning from them; they are my teachers. And they are full of surprises. One day, as I was moving my cart down the hall, a little girl ran up to me and asked, “Do you like science?” Thinking, wow, where did that come from, I answered: “I do!” She smiled, promptly turned around, and ran back down the hallway. I thought I had just encountered a fairy. What was going on in that little mind?
Another time, as I was moving down the hallway, again, with my bins, a little boy looked up and said: “Hi Mr. Dickinson. I like your shirt; it is full of colors”. That day I had worn a Hawaiian shirt that had bright red, yellow, blue, and purple colors.
Every day, as the kids get ready to go home, five or six will engage me in a conversation. Their lockers are across from the custodian office. All of them talk at the same time, each thinking they are the only one conversing. Each with a smile. “What are you doing this weekend, Mr. Dickinson”? “Do you have a dog?” “My family and I are making maple syrup this weekend.” “I have to shovel snow when I get home.” “Mr. Dickinson, can I have a piece of candy from your filing cabinet?” It lasts only about ten minutes and then the halls are silent.
When I work days, I help with lunch by opening milk cartons for tiny ones, or mopping up spilled milk, or passing out food. When the kids are done eating, they line up to empty their trays into a garbage bin. One time a little guy asked me: “Are you the new principal?” I smiled and said no. My co-worker laughed and said, “You should have said yes! Funny guy.
Each day, I am reminded of innocence, joy, hope, humor, and I am in awe. Once again, I go home tired after my shift, yet re-energized by the little ones. Thank God for kids.
William, it was brave of you to go out and get that job, and I am so glad you did! And that you find so much joy there. Sounds like a happy, lively place!
Young children don’t know how to fake it. They are raw feelings and honest emotions. I believe that you have multiple fairy encounters every time you walk through those doors. 🥰
Thank you for sharing this. I too have started working at a school. I have 3 children -.17, 15 and 13 and have started working at my youngest school. The VP asked me if I was interested one day when I was in volunteering..
I now do emergency EA -educational assistant to children that need extra help and care.
It has been a gift of an experience so far. Many lessons from children. A gift when I was in need. With 3 teenagers..my life is somewhat lacking purpose and needed a shift. I went while advanced breast cancer almost 6 years ago and life just changed ..but everything is better now ..lessons are being learned daily. Thank you William and also Suleika ..( your book is a wonder and saved me)
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
I, too, love the idea of journaling together.
My first thought about a child and wonder was a 6 year-old who went through three bone marrow transplants and ultimately did well. (I work as a hospital chaplain in oncology.)
One day her nurse came into her room and the child looked at her and said, "Could you imagine my life if I were an EKG lead?"
Boy Wonder--This morning, upon waking, I received a kiss from the boy—the boy for whom kisses are yucky. The sweetest, softest little boy kiss on my sleeping mouth.
…
“Hey, mama?”
You look over and there, on the side of the buffet, he’s taped a collage of soldier’s and king’s men. He’s made a small world while you weren’t looking. While you were there, not here, while you were busy—busy missing this, missing him being him.
And then that moment’s gone, and he’s gone. And you’re here, and it breaks your heart, and you wish, you wish, you wish for him—little him, getting bigger every day.
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
I was a sick child. I came down with meningitis when I was six. My temperature spiked to 106. Headaches. Listlessness. All the symptoms. My parents rushed me to the hospital, where I was doused with antibiotics. I remember almost every conscious minute of the two weeks I was there. That was when I began noticing things, which ultimately led me to becoming a writer. Wonder has informed my life. Whatever happened to me during my illness as a first grader changed me forever.
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
Gosh, do I miss that feeling of creating art without ego or conscious thought. I used to spend hours in my room painting and drawing as a kid and still have art supplies waiting for me to return to play. Thank you for that reminder. And wow, three years of TIJ, the project and community that literally changed my life and put me on a new writing path with a new set of incredible friends. I’d love to reinvigorate my journaling practice with your new 30-day project, Suleika! xo
Thank you for being with us from the very beginning. I’m in such awe of all that you’ve accomplished in these last years. Forever in admiration and cheering you on! ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Yes, to all you shared here, Abby. I love that we met through this community 3 years ago. So much more to explore and do together. I agree, lead on Suleika - I will follow your next creative challenge with glee. Truly we all have much to celebrate on April 1, 2023. Cheers to all my fellow TIJ friends and family.
Without ego or conscious thought... well said. Love this. I too have art supplies waiting -- thanks for inspiring me. I finally have a place I can make a mess in an outdoor art studio... and spring is soon.
Mar 12, 2023·edited Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
Community journaling would be an incentive to create with purpose. Currently I am writing daily haiku for the season of Lent. It’s a new experience realizing I can capture the essence of the day in three lines with carefully chosen words more than with pages and pages of prose. Quite liberating!
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
Thank you Suleika and Maggie for being so awesome. Maggie, what you do is amazing.
Journaling? Yes! I’m in!
Todays beautiful prompt.
The first thing that popped into my mind was a lovely memory of an act of kindness from a little girl. I suffer depression and before treatment I had bouts of crying. This could last for days into weeks. I was in a depressive mood one say while at a grocery store. As I was leaving all my change scattered in the parking lot. The sweetest little girl came over and picked up my chance and handed it back to me. My heart swelled from this sweet kind act. The little girl was an Angel in flesh. I thanked for and told her parents what a beautiful child their daughter was. The parents agreed. My faith was restored in humanity by thus act of kindness.
Thank you again for todays prompt. I’ll carry this sweet memory today when. I feel my cynicism creeping in.
Another memory that had stayed with me concerns art. I took a drawing class at the Wolf Conservation Center in South Salem New York. ( WCC is my happy place). The teacher is Allison Nichola who also has drawing safaris in South Africa. There was a mother in the group with a young daughter. The little girl drew but she picked up pieces of grass and nature findings to enhance what she was drawing. I was so taken with the girl just going with her heart and letting her drawing take shape. She was lovely.
Hope everyone enjoys the day. Looking forward to journaling together. Thank you for these weekly prompts and gratitude Fridays.
That is so cool. We live in Washington, but our family lives near there. We went and it was such a joyous experience. My son still has the hoodie from there- rewild your heart- beautiful!
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
I specialize in treating an anxiety disorder called Selective Mutism. I am filled with joy and wonder when kids are able to use their voice with me. Many of these children may only have ever spoken to their mom or dad in the confines of their home. It's truly breath taking and never ceases to amaze me.
Early in my career as a kindergarten teacher I had a lovely dark haired girl in my class who struggled with selective mutism. My approach to reticent children has always been to watch and wait for them to be ready to engage with me...her parents were amazed when she started talking to me just a few weeks into the school year. I was humbled by her trust and loved watching her blossom. In our tiny K-8 school, I watched with awe as she shone performing on stage in a speaking role as an 8th grader. ❤️
While listening to the podcast, We Can Do Hard Things this week, author Glennon Doyle was referencing the angst that her 17-year-old was feeling on her 17th birthday, reflecting on the fact that she will never be 16 again. Glennon quoted Liz Gilbert telling her daughter, “we are like Russian nesting dolls, you will always be 16 and 15 and 14 and 13.” I guess the child(ren) who taught me things are the ones tucked away under 59 Russian dolls like the one who thought it was cool to put an iron on transfer of Tutankhamen on her jeans leg in 1974, who knew that leaving home at 18 and working at a psychiatric hospital was safer, who stood frozen while her drunk father dangled her cousin over the bannister by her ankle because moving might have caused him to let go. I love all these girls inside me, all these inner children, my loves, my teachers.
This is so powerful, Kate. My Russian dolls number 67 and because of what you shared, I will be paying attention to them in a new way. (I feel like a mother hen sitting on 67 eggs.)🙂
Another YES to journaling! The magic of the human mind is never more brilliant than in children who find amazement everywhere. The giggling of my grandson when I hide my face with a napkin and then "magically" reappear when I remove it! Asking my 6 year old granddaughter how her day at school was to have her reply "awesome"! The superlatives that are truly meant. The wonder of finding joy in creating and imagining. I get to feel that same way when my twin granddaughters and I talk about planning the fairy garden in my backyard. That spirit of wonder and discovery keeps me present and vital. A blessing.
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Maggie's story reminds me of a time my mother-in-law was stuck in traffic due to some heavy road construction. She was watching a small boy at the time, and 5 years old Jack was in the car with her. She was so frustrated and upset at the long delay, while Jack was so excited to see all trucks and heavy equipment. He said "WOW! What a lucky day!"
Mar 12, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
When my youngest son was about 6 years old one day as he was getting ready for school he said to me " mommy i'm really lucky huh? I said why? son. He said because I get all the clothes that my big brothers can't wear anymore and they give them all to me." That answer touched my heart for he did not need anything new or something that just he wanted , no he was thankful and grateful that he had hand me downs from the brothers he loved. It was so simple and refreshing.
I’m constantly amazed that every word written in the English language is done so using an Alphabet of just twenty six letters.
My gratitude to you Suleika, and you, Maggie, because you both just made this Sunday morning a good day with what you shared here.
Suleika, I came across this poem a few years ago and I thought of it when I read your post this morning.
Imaginary Conversation
Linda Pastan - 1932-2023
You tell me to live each day
as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen
where before coffee I complain
of the day ahead—that obstacle race
of minutes and hours,
grocery stores and doctors.
But why the last? I ask. Why not
live each day as if it were the first—
all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing
her eyes awake that first morning,
the sun coming up
like an ingénue in the east?
You grind the coffee
with the small roar of a mind
trying to clear itself. I set
the table, glance out the window
where dew has baptized every
living surface.
Thank you for sharing this gorgeous poem, dear Peg ♥️
My pleasure, darling girl. 🥰
Ever since I became aware of you and the incredible way in which you share your life, the underlying takeaway for me is this: whether poems, paragraphs or hundreds of pages, the written word has been reintroduced to me in a very meaningful way...all raw astonishment.
Even down to a thought or idea scribbled on a scrap of paper, all of these things tell someone’s story. Thank you for walking me back to everything I’ve read here, and all the things I’ll read along my way. Love you, girl. ♥️
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. I'm saving it in a "book of thoughts" I keep for saving other people's wise words. And maybe this April will be the time when I commit to wiring some of my own words. It feels like a big step, but also the right time to take a risk. What's the risk? My powerful inner critic, I guess. Maybe that's one of the many things about children I love - the inner critic just isn't there yet. I remember asking my daughter why she didn't like math. "Because 4+4 = 8 every time. It's boring." No inner critic - just her awesome take on why math facts weren't doing it for her!
I love your daughter’s answer. Kids are brilliant and then the world gets ahold of them sometimes and shakes them up.
The author of this poem, Linda Pastan, passed on January 30th of this year at the age of 90. I didn’t know of her until I found this poem. I’m glad you’re saving it. I did as well. I’m going to get some of her books and find out more about this exceptional woman.
Isn’t that incredible, about language... that every written work in English has been created with only 26 characters... (ironic, that my adopted distant second language, Danish, has three additional vowels å æ ø and there are fewer words than English ... 🤔) and music, every song with eight notes ... harder with harmonica, even harder in bagpipes ... even this comment, it has never, ever been created ever before and I’ll continue to create — as will you and others — comments that have never been created before... all with just this 26 letters... the definition of expanding infinity... or not, I’m not a physicist.
Reminds me of when I was at a newspapers where everything we created ended up on newsprint, one step above toilet paper, our best creative slapped onto the paper with big fat dots of ink that spread into the other dots ... the good artists complained, the great artists used the medium restrictions to create even greater art. It was magical to watch!
The less you have, it seems, the more creative and focused you get with what you have... human beings are fantastic fonts of infinite creative energy... all 8 billion of us alive rn... 🤯
I like your phrase, “expanding infinity”. I stay in my own orbit most of the time, but The Isolation Journals picked me up and tossed me right into the middle of brilliant, kind, and thoughtful folks who have a story to tell.
It’s easy to be consumed with my daily events, but now I save a part of myself to go looking for the extraordinary. I read every post here and marvel at how we all face challenges, confront the unknown, all the while writing things that have never been written before.
Suleika and her band of merry friends have no idea how much they have enriched my life. It has been something I didn’t know I was missing, but now simply do not want to be without. Your reply here is a perfect example of why. Thank you, Gerard.
I think about infinity a lot, probably more than is healthy ... infinity forwards and backwards. The latest thing I saw was a terrifying video graphic of how our solar system is hurling through space at 440,000 mph, with all the planets flinging themselves around the sun and we’re all just held in place by the simultaneous attraction and repulsion of massive planets and stars and god knows what else... no duct tape; no wires; no strings ... and over the course of human history — a very small sliver of time in the life of our solar system and galaxy — the stars have remained relatively in the same place relative to us. We know this because the Greeks and Romans named the same constellations we see today... But everything is hurling forwards (or backwards, who knows) at this fantastic speed and has been since .. 14 billion years? And in the vastness of it all, despite the billions upon billions of words spoken and written, nobody has ever created your exact comment to me nor this one to you. How’s that for a unique gift to each of us?! Powerful sh*t when you stop and just let that thought seep into your bones..... thank you for your kind words; I fling stuff out there like Wadsworth Longfellow shot an arrow into the air...
My mind is refusing to grasp the concept of the solar system hurtling through space at 440,000 miles an hour. How is it being done without duct tape, wires or strings. How, at such speed, are the candles on the coffee table not flung into infinity, forward or backward?
The very thought of your reply is terrifying, but at the same time, thrilling. To me, this very small sliver of time is everything. It is, all at once, the past, present and future.
Quantum physicists have postulated that the way in which we experience time is an illusion. That it doesn’t happen in a linear way. That in reality, the past and the present, there’s no difference. The past is happening right now and it will always be happening.
I feel all the other arrows whizzing past my head along with yours, Wadsworth Longfellow.☺️ That’s what keeps me up late at night, pondering the reality of only 26 letters in the alphabet. ☀️🌙💫
Peg... this is awesome.
this touches me deeply. thank you! beautiful words to read first thing this morning, as snowflakes softly dance down from a powder blue sky ...
I just happened to see it when I was doing some random search at the doctor’s office. I know I was meant to find it, and I’m so glad I did.
Dynamic cohort journaling sounds highly inspiring! I'm in. Children...they are my lifeblood. I taught young children for 29 years, and one of my all-time favorite moments was when beautiful, little, four-year-old Rashad looked up at me (his then 50-something, gauze skirt-wearing, silver braided, toe sandaled teacher) and said, "Miss Mary, you are a really good rapper." I laughed with such a joy; we hugged and shared a mutual respect at that moment that I will always treasure. (I used to make up rhyming songs to encourage the children to line up, put the cap on the glue sticks, etc...such fun to be spontaneous and have to think on my feet.) The children loved my songs. They would even request them!
Oh, the memories I have of the children in my first grade classroom! Children are beautiful creatures, aren’t they? And they keep you on your toes with their innocently uncensored questions and thoughts in life!
“I’m trying to look at everything around me with fresh eyes, to seek out and hold onto wonder.” Me too, Suleika! Thank you for the reminder.🙏🏾
Year's ago, I was at work in a heap of tears because my first cat (as an adult) got sick, and I was afraid that he would have to be put down. My boss’ daughter had come into her office after being dropped off by her dad, saw me crying, and said, “Why is Ms. Tammy crying?” My boss replied, “Her cat is very sick, and she’s upset” to which her daughter replied, “Don’t stay here and cry, Ms. Tammy. Go home and play with Victor while you can.”
Children make things simple, don’t they?
Oh this is such a beautiful story. Thank you, beloved Tammy. You are a blessing ♥️
They do make things simple!
What a child has taught me! I realized while writing about my one month in a mental illness facility, for a storytelling performance, that my 18 years old son, showed me being present for me, each time he visited me while being so scared for his mamma”. He showed me the ability of being present for someone else thru their crises, even though deep inside he was scared. It’s not all about me, but having the courage to be present for others no matter how scared I am.
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
❤️🪶
Your son is amazing. He loves you. ❤️
Susan yes he does 🙏
Prompt 234 - Write about a time a child taught you about, or reminded you of, something important in life.
I am terribly blessed with my current part-time job as a custodian at an elementary school. I look forward to working my evening shift because I can spend a few moments interacting with the kids as they go home. And as I enter the classrooms to empty trash and recycling, the teachers are grateful for a brief conversation – they yearn for some “adult” time at the end of the day. The kids are funny, and the teachers are family.
I needed a job to get me out of the house. “Living” in isolation for 7 years after my wife died was affecting my sanity, my balance, my sense of wonder and hope. Life had no meaning anymore.
That quickly changed when I started work at the school. These kids are so little! Like little people. They are in another world with no inclination of valuing others by worth, ability, appearance, or any other outward aspect. Each day is a new day – a clean slate. Each day they smile joyfully, eager to learn.
Soon, I realized that I was learning from them; they are my teachers. And they are full of surprises. One day, as I was moving my cart down the hall, a little girl ran up to me and asked, “Do you like science?” Thinking, wow, where did that come from, I answered: “I do!” She smiled, promptly turned around, and ran back down the hallway. I thought I had just encountered a fairy. What was going on in that little mind?
Another time, as I was moving down the hallway, again, with my bins, a little boy looked up and said: “Hi Mr. Dickinson. I like your shirt; it is full of colors”. That day I had worn a Hawaiian shirt that had bright red, yellow, blue, and purple colors.
Every day, as the kids get ready to go home, five or six will engage me in a conversation. Their lockers are across from the custodian office. All of them talk at the same time, each thinking they are the only one conversing. Each with a smile. “What are you doing this weekend, Mr. Dickinson”? “Do you have a dog?” “My family and I are making maple syrup this weekend.” “I have to shovel snow when I get home.” “Mr. Dickinson, can I have a piece of candy from your filing cabinet?” It lasts only about ten minutes and then the halls are silent.
When I work days, I help with lunch by opening milk cartons for tiny ones, or mopping up spilled milk, or passing out food. When the kids are done eating, they line up to empty their trays into a garbage bin. One time a little guy asked me: “Are you the new principal?” I smiled and said no. My co-worker laughed and said, “You should have said yes! Funny guy.
Each day, I am reminded of innocence, joy, hope, humor, and I am in awe. Once again, I go home tired after my shift, yet re-energized by the little ones. Thank God for kids.
Your gorgeous writing and story moved me to tears. Thank you, William. You are a wonder.
I am sorry. I would say, no, you are a wonder!
William, it was brave of you to go out and get that job, and I am so glad you did! And that you find so much joy there. Sounds like a happy, lively place!
William, I completely concur with the wonder that is found within a school building. Thanks for sharing your story. It’s pretty awesome.
Thank you for sharing your story, William. This is beautiful. ❤️
Young children don’t know how to fake it. They are raw feelings and honest emotions. I believe that you have multiple fairy encounters every time you walk through those doors. 🥰
This is so beautiful William. Thank you!
Thank you for sharing this. I too have started working at a school. I have 3 children -.17, 15 and 13 and have started working at my youngest school. The VP asked me if I was interested one day when I was in volunteering..
I now do emergency EA -educational assistant to children that need extra help and care.
It has been a gift of an experience so far. Many lessons from children. A gift when I was in need. With 3 teenagers..my life is somewhat lacking purpose and needed a shift. I went while advanced breast cancer almost 6 years ago and life just changed ..but everything is better now ..lessons are being learned daily. Thank you William and also Suleika ..( your book is a wonder and saved me)
I, too, love the idea of journaling together.
My first thought about a child and wonder was a 6 year-old who went through three bone marrow transplants and ultimately did well. (I work as a hospital chaplain in oncology.)
One day her nurse came into her room and the child looked at her and said, "Could you imagine my life if I were an EKG lead?"
Out of the mouths of babes. ❤️
Boy Wonder--This morning, upon waking, I received a kiss from the boy—the boy for whom kisses are yucky. The sweetest, softest little boy kiss on my sleeping mouth.
…
“Hey, mama?”
You look over and there, on the side of the buffet, he’s taped a collage of soldier’s and king’s men. He’s made a small world while you weren’t looking. While you were there, not here, while you were busy—busy missing this, missing him being him.
And then that moment’s gone, and he’s gone. And you’re here, and it breaks your heart, and you wish, you wish, you wish for him—little him, getting bigger every day.
This is so beautiful. Thank you ♥️
Meghan, this is stunning. Thanks.
I was a sick child. I came down with meningitis when I was six. My temperature spiked to 106. Headaches. Listlessness. All the symptoms. My parents rushed me to the hospital, where I was doused with antibiotics. I remember almost every conscious minute of the two weeks I was there. That was when I began noticing things, which ultimately led me to becoming a writer. Wonder has informed my life. Whatever happened to me during my illness as a first grader changed me forever.
I so relate to this. Thank you for sharing ♥️
A blessing in disguise.
Gosh, do I miss that feeling of creating art without ego or conscious thought. I used to spend hours in my room painting and drawing as a kid and still have art supplies waiting for me to return to play. Thank you for that reminder. And wow, three years of TIJ, the project and community that literally changed my life and put me on a new writing path with a new set of incredible friends. I’d love to reinvigorate my journaling practice with your new 30-day project, Suleika! xo
Thank you for being with us from the very beginning. I’m in such awe of all that you’ve accomplished in these last years. Forever in admiration and cheering you on! ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Yes, to all you shared here, Abby. I love that we met through this community 3 years ago. So much more to explore and do together. I agree, lead on Suleika - I will follow your next creative challenge with glee. Truly we all have much to celebrate on April 1, 2023. Cheers to all my fellow TIJ friends and family.
I can’t imagine not knowing you or the other WNAPers.
Without ego or conscious thought... well said. Love this. I too have art supplies waiting -- thanks for inspiring me. I finally have a place I can make a mess in an outdoor art studio... and spring is soon.
That sounds like a perfect plan!
Community journaling would be an incentive to create with purpose. Currently I am writing daily haiku for the season of Lent. It’s a new experience realizing I can capture the essence of the day in three lines with carefully chosen words more than with pages and pages of prose. Quite liberating!
Thank you Suleika and Maggie for being so awesome. Maggie, what you do is amazing.
Journaling? Yes! I’m in!
Todays beautiful prompt.
The first thing that popped into my mind was a lovely memory of an act of kindness from a little girl. I suffer depression and before treatment I had bouts of crying. This could last for days into weeks. I was in a depressive mood one say while at a grocery store. As I was leaving all my change scattered in the parking lot. The sweetest little girl came over and picked up my chance and handed it back to me. My heart swelled from this sweet kind act. The little girl was an Angel in flesh. I thanked for and told her parents what a beautiful child their daughter was. The parents agreed. My faith was restored in humanity by thus act of kindness.
Thank you again for todays prompt. I’ll carry this sweet memory today when. I feel my cynicism creeping in.
Another memory that had stayed with me concerns art. I took a drawing class at the Wolf Conservation Center in South Salem New York. ( WCC is my happy place). The teacher is Allison Nichola who also has drawing safaris in South Africa. There was a mother in the group with a young daughter. The little girl drew but she picked up pieces of grass and nature findings to enhance what she was drawing. I was so taken with the girl just going with her heart and letting her drawing take shape. She was lovely.
Hope everyone enjoys the day. Looking forward to journaling together. Thank you for these weekly prompts and gratitude Fridays.
Tears. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️
I love the wolf conservation center- talk about wonder
It’s my happy place. I used to volunteer. I haven’t been in a long while. I miss it.
That is so cool. We live in Washington, but our family lives near there. We went and it was such a joyous experience. My son still has the hoodie from there- rewild your heart- beautiful!
I specialize in treating an anxiety disorder called Selective Mutism. I am filled with joy and wonder when kids are able to use their voice with me. Many of these children may only have ever spoken to their mom or dad in the confines of their home. It's truly breath taking and never ceases to amaze me.
And yes to a journaling 'challenge' I currently do morning pages and would love some inspiration and sense of camaraderie.
Early in my career as a kindergarten teacher I had a lovely dark haired girl in my class who struggled with selective mutism. My approach to reticent children has always been to watch and wait for them to be ready to engage with me...her parents were amazed when she started talking to me just a few weeks into the school year. I was humbled by her trust and loved watching her blossom. In our tiny K-8 school, I watched with awe as she shone performing on stage in a speaking role as an 8th grader. ❤️
Remarkable.
While listening to the podcast, We Can Do Hard Things this week, author Glennon Doyle was referencing the angst that her 17-year-old was feeling on her 17th birthday, reflecting on the fact that she will never be 16 again. Glennon quoted Liz Gilbert telling her daughter, “we are like Russian nesting dolls, you will always be 16 and 15 and 14 and 13.” I guess the child(ren) who taught me things are the ones tucked away under 59 Russian dolls like the one who thought it was cool to put an iron on transfer of Tutankhamen on her jeans leg in 1974, who knew that leaving home at 18 and working at a psychiatric hospital was safer, who stood frozen while her drunk father dangled her cousin over the bannister by her ankle because moving might have caused him to let go. I love all these girls inside me, all these inner children, my loves, my teachers.
This is so powerful, Kate. My Russian dolls number 67 and because of what you shared, I will be paying attention to them in a new way. (I feel like a mother hen sitting on 67 eggs.)🙂
Another YES to journaling! The magic of the human mind is never more brilliant than in children who find amazement everywhere. The giggling of my grandson when I hide my face with a napkin and then "magically" reappear when I remove it! Asking my 6 year old granddaughter how her day at school was to have her reply "awesome"! The superlatives that are truly meant. The wonder of finding joy in creating and imagining. I get to feel that same way when my twin granddaughters and I talk about planning the fairy garden in my backyard. That spirit of wonder and discovery keeps me present and vital. A blessing.
Yes to more superlatives that are truly meant! ♥️
Maggie's story reminds me of a time my mother-in-law was stuck in traffic due to some heavy road construction. She was watching a small boy at the time, and 5 years old Jack was in the car with her. She was so frustrated and upset at the long delay, while Jack was so excited to see all trucks and heavy equipment. He said "WOW! What a lucky day!"
Love this!
When my youngest son was about 6 years old one day as he was getting ready for school he said to me " mommy i'm really lucky huh? I said why? son. He said because I get all the clothes that my big brothers can't wear anymore and they give them all to me." That answer touched my heart for he did not need anything new or something that just he wanted , no he was thankful and grateful that he had hand me downs from the brothers he loved. It was so simple and refreshing.