An Update from Sea

Uncharted: A Journey from the End to a New Beginning hit the Amazon digital bookstore shelves a year ago, so it seems an appropriate time for an update from the sea, particularly given the current state of the world. If I’ve learned one certainty through this season of history we are currently writing, it’s that there IS always calm after the storm. And there’s always a storm brewing after the calm. Honing those life navigation skills has become more important than ever.   

At some point, we’ve all most likely read The Odyssey. If you need some perspective, now is not a bad time to reread the ultimate lost-at-sea epic tale (AKA the bad day that never seemed to end). I offer a possibly more aptly titled Odysseus: The Guy Who Seriously Could Not Catch a Break.  My point--it could be worse. Just when nothing else could go wrong, well, it did. (Side note: If you’re looking for a way to change up your quarantine routine, The Odyssey also comes in graphic novel form if you’re not up for reading the first ever country and western song in its original feature length.)

Ten years ago I started this blog as a way to inspire anyone in need of inspiration. Prior to this turning point in my life, I never thought divorce was in my future, but I sure never thought I’d live through a worldwide pandemic! If I’m honest, I sometimes feel like the girl who seriously can not catch a break. I keep swinging and the curve balls keep coming!  More than anything, I want to sail with a map in exciting blue waters, on course for novel discoveries, and lay anchor in an unexplored world to build something transformative. 

Things don’t always work out as planned.

I mean, I’ve been at this single sailing thing for a decade, so I’ve learned a thing or two and added masterful captain skills. When the clouds roll in and cover the stars, navigation becomes a challenge. It takes courage to sail in the deep water of relationships again. Letting myself love and be loved means heading into the wider ocean where unknown obstacles wait in the inky waters. My vessel is seaworthy, but something damages the rudder rendering me stuck at sea looking for my paddle. 

All that work exploring and learning how to survive the obstacles prepared me to set sail again, and I have some choices here in this reality where I’m stranded in the middle of the great big ocean hanging on as the swells come. 

A good captain doesn’t panic. A seasoned captain knows her ship inside out, it’s capabilities, what it can withstand, and its limitations. A smart captain protects her ship and crew, ensures adequate resources are on board to make the journey. A wise captain looks at what’s on the horizon through her periscope, takes it all in, and makes a decision--What course do I take to get my ship and crew to our destination? 

Changing course is a hard decision, but heading further into territory that will require more resources than you have is a suicide mission. 

Someone sent me this quote a few years ago, and I have it pinned where I see it often.

“She is like the sea, wild and free--

he knew he could never fully explore her expanse,

and he would most certainly become lost in her waves forever;

yet with a torn sail and a smile, he set sail anyhow.”   

I thought my life would look very different ten years into this chapter. I thought I’d find a sailor headed in the same direction, we’d catch the wind in our sails, and fight sea creatures together in search of all the treasures we could dig up. I envisioned nights listening to the crashing waves and drawing pictures in the star-filled sky with a partner I could defend when the pirates came who’d also defend me. In reality, sometimes the boat breaks down, and I have to choose between patching the hull or mending the sail. That’s just life at sea, navigating the calm and the storms with my best captain skills.

That’s one large group of analogies, so I’ll lay it out sans metaphor.

Regardless of my circumstances, which are ever-changing, showing up with a positive attitude and the right mindset consumes most of my energy and desire. In these months of staying home to combat an invisible, elusive enemy, that has required my physical, emotional, financial, and spiritual resources. When my resources start depleting, of course I start looking around for ways to replenish them. I feel more isolated, which isn’t good for anyone. (Yes, even you introverts are missing people.) I come up with a plan and put it into action with rigor and expectation because I am the girl you want in your corner when things go sideways. I rely on my resilience, loyalty, experience, and faith in the promise that all things are working to bring blessings my way. And you know what? I’m tired. I’m worn out. I’m depleted and so are the people around me. Honestly, I found myself frustrated that those I’ve built up aren’t fighting right along with me, helping me figure this thing out, encouraging me when I’m a little down because I always find a way to do those things for the people around me. And I realize most folks are mustering everything they’ve got to keep their own boat afloat right now. If ever there was a season to extend grace, it's now.

So I’m drifting a little bit in these times we are calling uncertain. And I’m becoming OK with that. My kids need me in different ways as 16 and 18-year-old young adults, and those ways include watching their boats sail further away from mine. That means I did something right because they are in their own boats, eager to take on their own adventures, but I miss having the little deck mates running around. Work asks for more and gives less, but that’s because I’m a leader. I’m giving myself navigational grace in this season of life since making concrete plans begs for an implosion. So what’s next?

Back to dreaming big, mending the small tears in my sail so I’m ready to catch the wind when the skies and the direction are clear of heavy clouds.  

One Thing

The next great American novel.

Painting that blank canvas sitting in the hall closet.

Knitting something other than a scarf.

Finishing the cookbook I've been working on.

Starting an urban farm complete with chickens.

Starting a business.

Anyone else enter CORVID-19 Season with a list of accomplishments and a 24-pack of toilet paper, just beaming with the amount of time on our exceptionally capable hands to finally knock out things there never seems to be time enough to tackle?

How long did it take you to realize the joke was on us?

It took me about a week. 

A week that flew by in a blur of zoom meeting tabs, text messages the length of Russian novels, questions piled up to the ceiling I couldn't get around to answering from all directions--professional, personal, maternal, and internal. Time morphed into something that no longer followed its metronome, and days lost their individualism. My routine vanished, replaced by an imposter pretending to be my life but altogether different. The places were the same but the life in them vanished. The bustling board game of my life and routine resembled a ghost town.

I don't have cable, but the news of the encroaching enemy in a war that's too quiet flashed relentlessly across the tools I use to access the world. The purposeful energy typical of my mornings on a middle school campus exchanged for anxious expediency from wide-eyed voices on the phone, asking rapid-fire questions I can't answer yet. Because we didn't yet know the answers to simple questions in this new reality rampant with moving parts.

My 10-hour days became 16-hour days, at the end of which I had my own children to care for, check on, wonder about how their days went from the silent boxes of their bedrooms where their lives are now compacted. I realize I've had two pots of coffee and a piece of cheese. I also realized I wasn't hungry, so I immediately knew this was NOT normal.

Nothing about this new routine is normal. I feel this twinge like I'm walking somewhere way up high and realize the distance to the ground. I wonder in that flash of a moment if Normal will ever be normal again. I dismiss the thought because this is just a few weeks of locking ourselves away from a microscopic question mark hell bent on taking us out. I took a deep breath, resolved to eat a decent breakfast in the morning, less coffee, more water, and promise myself I'll finally download that yoga app.

Fast forward a number of weeks. I'd have to check the calendar on my phone to tell you how many because well, time is just a number that tells me when I'm supposed to do things.

Obviously, this shake up moved my cheese more than a little. Like to another planet! Did it? Or did it just feel that way because things feel and work so differently than when I was comfortable and I fit into the little world I'd created?

I had to hit the breaks on trying to process everything at once. Making Sense as a thing wasn't going to apply to everything that had changed all at once. I needed to get my head around one thing.

One Thing.

Because when the people and places and activities I felt so connected to were gone, what was left?

So so much. I have given myself permission to live completely in the present moment. If I'm tired, I rest. If I'm hungry, I eat. If I'm scared, I pray. If I'm bored, I find something worthwhile to do with a thankful heart, grateful for the time and ability to read or cook or call someone to talk about nothing. When someone asks me a question, I answer it or say I don't know but I'll find out. I gave myself permission to be OK with incompleteness.

Then I started small with one thing. I started growing microgreens for a lot of reasons. I've done it before and wanted to do it again. They are delicious and extremely healthy. They are ready to harvest in about a week. I got to see them sprout and grow then open up and now I can eat them. One small, uncomplicated thing that I can't control but can respond to the conditions and do my part to bring about a successful outcome.

What's your one thing?

All the Single Ladies...

If you don't hear Beyonce in your head right now, I'm not sure we can be friends...

In all seriousness, I hatched these intricate daydreamy plans of how I would spend my COVID-19 Quarantine downtime, and let me tell you that whole thing went out the window in a big ole hurry.

I work twice the hours to support students and teachers, troubleshoot issues that some up in the moment, and wake up at 3:27am with astonishing regularity devising plans to stay ahead of what might come next. Working and serving in education right now equates with laying the pavement two seconds ahead of an Indy car. It's the second-best thing I can be doing with my time right now.

The role I'm finding the most puzzling is the one I usually feel like I'm navigating well--Mom-ness.

My kids aren't little anymore. They are 16 and 18 now. Little adults. And this has hit them in vastly different ways.

My senior is struggling. The tug-o-war between understanding that this unprecedented time in our history will define the future of the world versus the unfairness of missing out on so many huge milestones versus getting our heads around how each individual's choices and behaviors can absolutely impact the livelihood of those in our community. It's A LOT.

My heart really breaks for her. It breaks for me. I have been playing the tape in my head of her last little girl everythings for so song, and those things aren't going to happen. Her last solo performance singing on a stage, her last dance, her last day of walking through the halls at school, saying bye to this part of her life and stepping into the next chapter of her life. It will all just be so different.

And then there's me.

Which brings me back to the title.

If you're a single mom, this is hard. It was already hard, but we'd figured out our way in doing this thing, right? Now it's just us minus distractions. I can't go to yoga, the gym, the movies, to my favorite little spots to see people I adore. I'm staying home, just like I hope you're doing.

I talked with another single mom friend of mine this week who asked me, "Is it just me or is this just REALLY isolating?" Yes, it is. I have a million amazing friends.  And they are busy taking care of their families. Like we all should be taking advantage of this time to reflect and focus on those closest to us. They are focused on their husbands and children.

I'll just say it.

The world feels uncertain. It feels a little too quiet. A little too isolated. A little bit scary because we don't know what tomorrow looks like. There's something to be said for having someone to tell you that it'll be alright. That you'll get through this together. That whatever happens, you aren't walking through it all by yourself.

So that sounds super Gen X!

Time for a solution! This evening, I scheduled girls' night online. I made a silly invitation and texted it with Zoom code to a bunch of my girlfriends. We all just needed to see some familiar, smiling faces and talk about completely random things like we usually would. Making time and expending a tiny bit of effort meant that my kitchen was filled with friends again, full of laughing and getting the scoop on what's new with everyone.

The simple things.

The important things.

Investing in people and in ourselves, being grateful for our relationships, and nurturing them in the midst of what has to be the craziest time for our generation.

So connect. Reach out. Be available. And take care of yourself because this is not a contest and the only way we get through this is together. But 6 feet apart.

Big air hugs, friends!

Well I had a Plan, But....

I had planned to build my first of several raised bed vegetable gardens today, but that's not how today went.

Today was the Last Day (capitalized on purpose) to get what we needed before truly holing up for good. I thought surely I'd have a few minutes today to run to Home Depot and grab some vegetables and soil to add to my compost and plant my garden because really who knows how long this thing is going to last?

It just didn't go that way.

Today was our first day of school following Spring Break, and I loved seeing all of my teachers interacting with our kids online in their virtual classrooms. Students were asking for more work, something to do, asking how their teachers were, and sharing what things were like and how they were feeling.

Broke my heart in the best way.

I sent kids links to online museums and public library websites, artists and chefs and authors sharing their thinking because what better way to understand author's craft than to hear it straight from the author?

I'm committed to showing the things I'm invested in doing to spark ideas, encourage anyone needing encouragement, and showing how we can use this experience to grow our skills and interests in positive ways. But I also feel like it's worth validating how overwhelmingly unreal this all feels to me.

Is it me or does anyone else feel like we are attending the wedding of The Grapes of Wrath and Twisted Sister presided over by none other than Isaac Asimov?

I made one last trip to Whole Foods yesterday because my daughter is vegan and, after surveying our pantry, I realized she wouldn't make it through two weeks of quarantine with out a few more options. I LOVE going to the grocery store, mostly because I am a food nut! I walked through the store kind of lost, wondering what I should get. The store posted limitation signs on items like nut butters, canned vegetables, grains, and other staples to avoid shortages like that of toilet paper. I have never cried over a can of tomatoes, but this was the last straw. Two cans of stewed tomatoes remained, exactly what I needed to make the double batch of stew I'd planned to make and freeze--just in case.

It was just too much. The tears just came. In the middle of the canned tomatoes. The reality of the unknown days ahead overwhelmed me in that moment. I just felt so sad that in such a short period of time, our entire way of life was completely foreign. I'd dealt with my kids who were irritable (understandably so), those closest to me who I could see from the safety of six feet away but not hug or comfort. The impending isolation became very real in that moment.

I'm not going to spend much time being all victim-y, but I do think it's worth taking a minute, giving ourselves the space and freedom, to feel the heaviness of our world right now. Some things we can't change, but some things we can.

We can stay home.

We can put sight words in our front windows so the kindergarteners can practice them on walks. We can ask our neighbors how they are from our side of the street. We can encourage everyone we influence and we can pray for mercy.

Tomorrow I am doing yoga and planting one of my gardens. That means it's happening. Sleep well, friends. 

Clean Team!

When the kids were little, I researched natural ways to make my own everything. I made their baby food from real vegetables and fruit. I grew flowers, herbs, vegetables, and fruit in our yard so they could see where some food comes from, to have the satisfaction of knowing that the blackberries they picked are in their PBJ for lunch the next day. Since the three of us had a tendency to be highly allergic to all kinds of things, I also made the cleaners I used in our house. Cleaning often comes with the toddlers-who-play-outside territory.

Oh the internet and its resources! Recipes for cleaning all kinds of surfaces with your own household chemistry set flow in abundant 1s and 0s online. The perfect concoction of custodial ingredients depends on the surface to be cleaned and what unwanted entity is to be removed from said surface.

A Google search, Instagram, Pinterest, or Martha Stewart's website produces recipes for just about every cleaning need imaginable! Before getting started, here are the things I collected prior to mad scientist mixology.

Fun Facts

Some recipes also incorporate vodka, but teachers can't post alcohol online... Also here are a few tips I've learned over the years of mixing up my own cleaning products that might be of interest.

• Tea Tree oil is a natural antibiotic.
• Lavender reduces stress and creates a sense of clam. Not a bad idea right now...
• Citrus juices are acidic (THIS is when you will use the pH scale from high school chemistry. You know you asked, "Why do I have to learn this?") and acids break down grimy stuff. Lemon and lime provide just enough to do the trick with the added bonus of smelling clean and happy.
• Castile soap is like the stem cell of cleaning. Just read the side and you wouldn't believe all the things pure castile will clean! Dilute castile whenever using it. Think preteens with Axe... Just a little bit goes a long way. Too much is, well too much. 
• Vinegar and baking soda breakdown stubborn things. Seriously, baking soda is the best toilet bowl cleaner and much cheaper than that thing that turns the water blue. 
• Borax works great to boost cleaners, especially in the bathroom. 
• Bleach, of course, but be careful! It will take the color out of most everything.

My multi-surface cleaner includes rubbing alcohol, vodka, castile, a few drops of dish soap, tea tree and orange oil, and distilled vinegar in a squirt bottle then diluted with water. I use it on all surfaces (including the fridge) except wood. Honestly, I even used it on some wood surfaces yesterday because I'm not willing to roll the dice.

Mixing up your own cleaners might be a fun distraction for younger kids. If you have slightly older ones, have them research the chemical properties of these household staples. They should be able to explain the chemical reactions taking place that cause grimy things to break down or change when other chemicals are added. While you're at it, make some elephant toothpaste just for a fun distraction.

When every Clorox wipe has wiped it's last and there are no more left on the pillaged Target cleaning aisle, we can always revert to the cleaning tricks of our great great grandmothers. Happy Cleaning!

Coronapocalypse!

My seventh grade history teacher, Miss Holland, used one explanation when teaching us about dark events in history--People behave differently in wartime than they would in peace time.

I think we can all agree that man vs. virus counts as a new kind of significant conflict.

And we can already see examples of people who are behaving differently under these seriously bizarre circumstances.

As in all things, I'm approaching this challenge as an opportunity to, well, look for more opportunities within the confines of viral avoidance and social distancing. I'm an extremely social person so the unknowns ahead of us as humans feels a tad like becoming an unwilling character in a Choose Your Own Adventure book called Virus Attack! Every page is full of information and choices that lead to something unknown but also will include more information and more choices. We don't know how long we are in this deal, so getting my head around the possibility that the current reality may be our new normal buzzes around my head like an inconvenient annoyance that won't go away so I can get on with things. My things. My plans.

My things and plans feel less imperative at the moment.

We study history to learn from those who lived before us so we take what worked and carry it forward and leave behind what didn't. I'm a World War II buff, so some of my favorite stories include common themes--kindness, sacrifice, tenacity, hope, bravery, love. Those characteristics saved people, cultures, resources, art, and humanity. So I'm doing my part to be a giver and not a taker, a vehicle for positivity instead of gloom and doom because when we look back on these very strange times, people will remember who we became in uncertain times. More importantly, I will look back on who I became in these uncertain times.

There. All done with philosophical positioning on a virus named after a beer that is only drinkable with the assistance of a lime.

I'm committing to a daily update from the Teacherwithtude on what I'm doing with my uncommon incarceration...

Making time for the arts.
Grow a bigger vegetable garden.
Maybe get some chickens?
Spend more time outside.
Read for fun.
Watch less TV.
Can some food just in case...
Reach out to people I haven't seen in a while.
Write more.
Spend more time with my kids since they are barely still kids!
Make my life less busy and more meaningful.

A Note to My Teacher Friends:

If any group of people were ever prepared for something like this, it's you. Teachers are the CEOs of the corporations that are their classrooms. Teachers plan for specific outcomes and design plans for kids to engage in the experiences to learn and grow. Teachers love kids like they are their own children. Take care of yourselves and remember that twenty years from now, your students will remember YOU, the teacher that taught them and kept something consistent in their little lives when they felt afraid and anxious and uncertain. You are the thread of our communities and you are a significant reason we will all get through this better people than BC (Before Corona).

Check out my first task tomorrow -- Cleaning House!

Busy Bee!

Maybe you didn't know this, but the name Melissa actually means honey bee. I know this because it's a rite of passage when little girls get to the age where they hit double digits, they tend to be completely obsessed with their names. I'm pretty sure that nearly all tourist trap souvenir shops have a display filled with bike-sized personalized license plates, sticker sets of puppies and kittens, and useless laminated cards that tell what common names mean. And Melissa means honey bee.

Ironic, right?

I get a whole lot accomplished, and people ask me quite often if I ever sit down. I actually sit still quite a bit. It's in the sitting still that I come up with all the things I think it might be fun to knock out or try to learn. At the very least, it's usually an excuse to take a road trip to someplace interesting or buy a tool. In a few days during Spring Break, I knocked out one serious garage clean out/reorganization, a small painting project, some woodworking projects, and a minor flower bed makeover. I planned my new fence, dreamed a little bit more about what I'd like to create in my back yard, and I thought a little bit about what I want to be when I eventually grow up. I did more than that, but you get the idea.

The not-so-great part of having lots of ideas lies in the execution. I've been called the Queen of Unfinished Projects. (Raising hand. Guilty as charged.) So I've made a concerted effort to change that over the last few years. I still have a ton of unfinished projects--half-knitted scarves, a pile of recipes I want to try, TWO half-stripped old doors in my garage, and an overflowing Pinterest board or two--but I'll get to them.

I had an advisor in college who used to say this:  "Melissa, the people with the most to do get the most done." He was so right.

Honey bees are creatures who are so busy they defy physics. Their tiny wings shouldn't be able to keep their bodies off the ground, much less fly them from one flower to another to another then back to the hive where they do what again? Kick their little bee heels up and watch TV? No, those suckers fly home, check on the Queen, build the hive, and make honey. They are productive because they live and work in a way that never loses sight of their purpose. I don't know if it's in their bee DNA or if that's just one heck of a motivational queen, but those little suckers get their To Do list knocked out!

I wonder if they sleep...

All this rambling on to say I'm taking a page from the swarm handbook. Choose goals that serve the long-term purpose and the species as a whole then just flap as hard as possible to get it done. The other interesting thing I notice about bees is that they always make time to smell the flowers. So here's to being busy, but not so busy that I don't take time to smell the flowers life hands me.