Listening beneath the Maple

I awoke this morning at 6am because I had accepted a sub teaching job today...cold and dark, the sun hadn't even given a hint of light yet. I only slept for about six hours last night, and that's definitely not enough for me. But I spent some time lying there in bed, loving my little Friday companion, who was purring and looking at me askance, as if wondering "why are you awake before the sun?" Just as I arrived at the school, the sun was beginning to illuminate the sky, and tendrils of deep rose were glowing in the distance. Another beautiful morning, and another blessing of witnessing the sun shedding light upon the day.

Italian. I don't know much, and can't be of much help here. As usual, the kids are thrilled that there's a sub, and on a Friday. And I totally understand their joy, that the last day of the week might be a little more chill than usual. Fortunately, I'm the kind of sub who knows that, and I don't have anything to prove here. Especially after last weekend's workshop on using NVC in the classroom, I am keeping a mantra - my purpose here is to connect. I am only here a brief time, and am not able to actually manage much in the teaching realm. But I can offer a smile, some kindness, compassion and connection as I cross their paths today. And I have been feeling really good with that. I'm not here to lay down the law, to have my ego fed with power, or to make demands upon anyone. Who knows, maybe these moments of authentic connection, when they occur, will actually touch someone today. As a friend said recently, my employer is God.

It has been a pretty easy schedule today. I had the first period off, and again for fourth period. Fourth period is a long block of two hours, and while I have lots of books with me, I decided that a walk would feel good. To get away from this artificial environment and fluorescent lighting. To breathe the cool fall air, and connect to myself and the day through the rhythm of footsteps. And it was wonderful. I thought it would be good to walk for half an hour in each direction, and set out. Then, I found a beautiful maple leaf on the sidewalk. I bent and picked it up...it was just barely blushing from yellow to rose. I walked on, with it in my hand. Then, in front of me, I walked into maple tree heaven! There were small maple trees on both sides of the street, blushing to their full glory! My mind considered pushing onward with my walk, following the plan, but I just couldn't! I mean, how could I pass those trees without stopping?

I stood beneath one of them. The reddest leaves were on the outside of her canopy, and more inward, the leaves were a creamy lemon yellow. Standing beneath her, I was pulled into a different world. As I faced in, I was covered in yellow softness. As I faced out, I was embraced in the warm orange and red glow. I sat down, facing the trunk of the maple tree, and sat quietly. I began to breathe and meditate, bringing my mind back to the present. Listening: the faint rustle of leaves was usually overshadowed by the cars coming and going along the two lane road just behind me. But even listening to the cars, coming from each direction, was soothing and simple. Then, I shifted my attention to feeling: the wind on my arms, my face, in my hair. The coolness of the damp earth beneath me. And I began to tune into my body.

I began to feel the wholeness of my heartache. The embodied experience of heartache that doesn't require me to have any thoughts about the passing of Familiar kitty, or of living and dying. I tuned into this bodily experience, and explored it with the same curiosity and openness that I experienced externally just moments before. I turned my attention to listening within that feeling. And what I felt arise was the desire to just sit with these sensations as they arise. "What you resist persists" was a central idea that came to me time and time again in Peru. And this morning, as I sat beneath the blushing maple, I heard my body asking for this teaching to be taken in more deeply. To not resist what is coming up within me, but to sit with each sensation, to hold space for each one to arise and pass. And I practiced this for some time.

My body asked me to move, to stretch. I began to stretch my neck and head, then my shoulders. Then, I realized that I was deeply craving some of the simple warmups from Kundalini yoga. There was a small voice inside of me that said, "but you're sitting along the road, next to a shopping center, and down the street from McDonalds...really, yoga here?" And I said to myself, "absolutely!" So, I began to rotate my body from the waist, slowly moving into the space that I inhabit. I began to rotate from my chest, next, and then moved through some spinal flexes. I finished with some slow, simple stretches to the side and forward, and some twists. My body felt so wonderful! What a blessing it was to take this walk to this beautiful tree, and then to spend some time listening within and honoring my body's needs. I walked back to the school, feeling serene and content.

Here I sit, now, waiting for the next class to begin. Reading "Peaceable Revolution Through Education" and observing all the ways that this school, like most others, does not meet many of the basic needs of human beings. I'm trying not to feel frustrated by the lack of windows in any of the classrooms, or the teacher workroom, where I've spent much time today. I wonder, how did we get here, to creating education space that is so sterile and dehumanizing...but that is a conversation for another day and another time. r

Peace Possibilities

It's cold outside tonight. Almost as cold as last night. Quiet, so quiet, only an occasional car driving in the distance, and the crickets singing, and the wind in the trees. And now, purring. Friday kitty has settled near me, and is purring loudly. Such a comforting, soothing sound, that is.

I am looking forward to this weekend. I'm going to attend a Nonviolent Communication workshop geared toward teachers, which is something I've been hoping to find for almost a year. It is in Durham, NC, someplace I've never been before. I am excited that this will count as my professional development training for the year through the Choral Arts Society, and that they will fund the registration fee...which makes it possible for me to attend a workshop like this, which came up out of the blue a couple weeks ago. And I found out earlier today that someone there is willing to host me for the weekend, so I won't have to pay for a hotel. Awesome!

I am so grateful for Nonviolent Communication. I sure have a lot to learn, that is really clear. But these trainings have given me real-life meaningful tools to learn to listen better, both to other people and to myself. What am I feeling? What are the needs that are/are not being met? Empathy used to be a vague idea to me, something that was at best, Buddha-like compassion, and at least, a thin cover for pity. But now I understand the truth of it - empathy is merely a practice of showing up, listening to what needs to be heard, and having no agenda in that process. The last part is so important, too...and so hard!

The tools I am gathering through NVC are much like the tools I am gathering in our Wisdom Circles. Listening is the heart of it. For years and years I wished to be a better listener. I wanted to be able to show up for people and take in what they had to offer in conversation. But much of the time, I just couldn't do it. I have so much energy, so many things to say, so many ideas of how to change the world! But in that last bit came the downfall of the first two - I came with an agenda. To fix what needed fixing. To save the world, that was my goal. But I didn't understand that to save the world, all I would need to do is hold space for others to give birth to their truths, while giving birth to my own, too.

It is a hard thing, to listen to problems, complaints, suffering, confusion, drama. I find myself wanting to offer solutions and ideas, ways to make things better. And the heart of that is sincere, pure. I want to help! More than anything, I want to help! But what I am learning one day at a time is that help doesn't mean offering my own ideas most of the time. It means merely offering my presence and my open mind and heart, and merely listening, and accepting what is offered without judgement. Little by little, this is beginning to happen more easily.

The workshop at hand fills me with new excitement - what if NVC could be offered to little kids in Washington, DC, built into programs that fit my current work as a teaching artist? What if little kids from bad neighborhoods could learn that there are other ways of dealing with people and problems besides violence in action and in words? What if little kids could be given the true freedom to express what needs expressing, feel what they feel, and have people listen to them with respect? It's probably a long shot - kids who grow up in violent households won't be utterly transformed in five short visits from me. But I have hope that I can plant a seed. In little minds and hearts. In teachers. In classrooms. Nothing would be more fulfilling than to find ways of bringing peace into the lives of these kids...peace, not as an abstract idea, but as a practice, a way of life. Yeah!