I know it’s been a long time. That’s the strange thing about a blog: even if I use it as a glorified journal, I still feel indebted to my few readers and mildly guilty when I fail to write for long periods of time. So. Sorry! And hello again.
Sitting in a professional development meeting yesterday, the idea was sudden and stuck. I’m always a bit late to the reflective train, it seems. Others are so meticulous in their reflection with thoughtful end-of-the-year lists and turns of phrase. I must be too busy too often because when I received all those posts to my email this year, I was in a frenzy of moving and travel and trying not to yell at my students every 10 minutes. Oddly enough, last year was similarly frenzied although the circumstances were different.
That sudden idea was this: Perhaps this could be a year of no complaining.
Of course, I’m aware that I will fail at this resolution as often as I succeed, but I sense the effort could be worthwhile. I think I’ll also take on Ann Voskamp’s Joy Dare and count 1,000 gifts. Seriously, why not?
Some micro cultures breed that habit of complaining. Teacher culture seems to be that way in my extremely limited experience. The teachers I work with on a daily basis seem to feel unappreciated by students, principal, parents, society. There is always much weight to groan under: another form to fill out, another confusing way to try and track teacher effectiveness, another test to prepare students for, students who don’t care, parents who don’t understand, legislators who are too far removed from the grind of education to form accurate policy. I am barely darkening the door of this profession, but I sense none of this is new. Better for me to choose rose-colored glasses from the get-go.
Choose to embrace reality and all it’s nitty-gritty beauty. Choose to welcome the bright and the shadow.
So there it is: a resolution for the year I’ll turn 30, 2015. A year without complaining. A year of daring to gather 1,000 joys, 1,000 gifts.