Blankets

I grew up in a drafty house. Whenever it was windy, the breezes came through the windows and doors as if they weren’t there. Our only remedy was to use blankets. Wrapped in their warmth, we watched TV and did our homework. Only when our parents turned up the heat, which was rare, were we able to discard the blankets.

Looking back, I can see how often I’ve reached for blankets of one kind or another when winds blew. Sitting in the reading circle in third grade, knowing my turn was coming and not being a good reader, I grabbed the class-clown blanket. After messing up on the soccer field, I wrapped myself in the it’s-not-a-big-deal blanket. When I drank too much and said something I shouldn’t have, I used the I-got-this blanket to shield me from my embarrassment.

I don’t use blankets as much as I once did, although they’re all folded neatly in the corner waiting, in case I change my mind.  

There’s nothing I can do about the wind. All I can do is look for healthy ways to seek warmth. I can surround myself with authentic friendships, sit closer to others by being real, present, and vulnerable. More than anything else, I can focus on ways to rely more on a power greater than myself.

It is when I do these things that I find the warmth that keeps me from looking for blankets.

(Written in gratitude for Melody Beattie, the author of Codependent No More)

Wearing the Jersey

He was a walk-on, an athlete who wasn’t recruited, nor promised any kind of scholarship. Still, he possessed the talent that made the coaches want him on the team, so he joined the others with the full knowledge he may never play in a game.

It was a major accomplishment to make the team, something of which he, his parents, and his friends were proud. In a moment of inspiration and true friendship, his buddies ordered his jersey, complete with name and number. They would be the only fans in the stands with such jerseys, but that didn’t matter. In fact, it only made their jerseys more special, their friendship more inspirational.

When I heard about the friends buying the jerseys, I knew there was a brushstroke to be found. Within this very ordinary series of events, there was something divine. Yes, the athlete’s story spoke of courage, effort, and perseverance, but it was the friends who spoke to my heart most. To buy your buddy’s jersey and wear it proudly in the stands, speaks of true friendship, the kind that roots for someone even when he or she may never play in the game. None of that matters. It’s the friendship that does.

May we all have such friends. May we be such friends.

First Day of School

My hands fidgeted on the seat in front of me as I waited for the other students to get on the bus. With crispy pants, stiff new shoes, and backpack on its maiden voyage, I looked out the window wondering what the new school year would bring. Who would be my teachers? What would my schedule be like? What would I learn? What would I achieve? The questions of August were always the same.

Although, for me, school bus rides are a thing of the past, the excitement of this time of year remains. When I think about my life in education, I know one of the reasons I loved it so was because each year you got to start over. Whether as a student or teacher, you always get a chance to sharpen your pencils, arrange your desk, and start over. A new year offers the chance to build on what had gone well the year before and correct the things that didn’t.

If only life was the same.

Maybe it can be.

Maybe we, like the students who begin school this week, can approach our lives – our jobs, relationships, health, and spiritual lives - as if they begin anew today. Just thinking about it makes my heart beat quickly, and dreams start percolating. This could be a great new year. There are things to learn, friends to meet, and accomplishments to strive for. It’s time to climb on the bus. The lights are flashing!