Archive for May, 2011
Being human, I have experienced pain and frustration by people and situations over the years. In some cases, I’ve ruminated about what happened and found the grace to forgive. In others, unbeknownst to me, I’ve folded up the hurt into the smallest of balls and stuffed it into the deep, dark recesses of my body. I’ve been dragging the weight of the denial around with me as a mass of sadness, masked by the smile I’m usually wearing. Like a monkey unobtrusively sitting just above my head, my sadness has been visible to others, while I’ve been oblivious of its existence. That is, until six months ago when I asked a colleague to describe me and, to my surprise, he responded that he saw a core of sadness below my cheery disposition. I was stunned. Was that what I was feeling?
Since then I’ve been on a mission to ferret out the source of my sadness and heal it. With the light of consciousness focusing on the black balloon of despair that I’ve masterfully stuffed below the surface, that despair can no longer be held back from my daily awareness. Three days ago, it took only the simplest of questions, “What are you feeling?” from a dear friend, for me to realize that the balloon was no longer Read the rest of this entry »
For the past two weeks I’d been planning to go back to Housman Elementary to bring my seven year old mentee, Jose, an end-of-the-year packet containing a summary of his math and reading work and a book for summer reading. I had decided I would deliver the material in person so that I could say an appropriate good-bye but somehow procrastination had kept me away. After six years of volunteering, I had already decided that this year would be my last. It was time to move on—I needed more time to read, write, and work on coaching projects. Yet, today I changed my mind.
When I walked in, Jose broke out into his million dollar smile. He jumped up and threw his arms around me. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he said, beaming. All his friends also jumped into the fray with their own welcomes. Engulfed in this warm circle of little people, I wondered why I hadn’t come sooner. Out of the corner of my eye I spied a small boy who sat at the end of the table, head nesting on his crossed arms like he was sleeping. “What is wrong with him?” I asked. “He’s sad because a girl in our class said he was Read the rest of this entry »