I could spend a lot of time telling you about the things on which I wasted my time in life.
I could spend a lot of time reminiscing on the things in life that I should have done differently.
I could spend a lot of time explaining the reasons why life does not look like I would have told you five years ago.
I could spend a lot of time describing to you the way I should have said this and not that...on that one day.
But at some point, it will all end up being a waste of time spent about what I gave up, gave into, gave away, or gave too much of.
And we can look at life in a lot of different ways and from thousands of different angles and through millions of different lenses.
Yet, that will not change what is on the opposite side of the kaleidoscope: life.
In several hundreds, thousands, millions, and billions of colorful pieces of mystery, sadness, joy, pain, excitement, adventure, and perpetual newness--some kind of vessel rests on the other side of the large Tree of Experience. On each piece of those branches drips a special dew of that effervescence of this gift of L-I-F-E.
I would like to think that each day is as hallucinogenic as one of those dramatic depictions that is displayed at the end of one those tubes that we used to twist in front of our eyes as a kid. We would move our hands, and we would be in awe at what was projected just four inches away from our eyes...almost as if we were looking into another world, another galaxy. Yet, in reality: it is just a little cardboard tube with beaded fixtures at the end.
But, sometimes we need the simple to invite us to extravagant.
I love that I teach English. There are several reasons why I love what I get to do each day. However, I get to step into the world of my students. I get to share a part in the magic they create on paper. I get to share in their writing.
And that is something that is difficult to articulate.
I have had students leave me awed with a deeper introspection to life, afraid in horror of what is behind that door, and in tears by the weight of emotion they created in a story about someone's journey. And these little souls are only fourteen.
Only fourteen. Whew.
I laugh most days with them. But on the days I get to take part in the little piece of their journey of creating new stories, of discovering poetry, and learning how to share their own story, I get to give my time. I get to listen. And that is the best way I know how to give.
My hope is that they see life with the colorful treasures that are still ahead: a kaleidoscope of possibility.
And, hey, maybe you need that, too.
We need the clouds every now and then.
-S
P.S.. (Disclaimer: ONLY IF YOU WANT TO LAUGH)
This occurred when teaching one of my classes about color connotations and the purpose behind using colors to contribute to the tone and imagery of a passage.
Me: Brown. The color Brown carries a negative and positive connotation. When you think of "Brown," what do you think?
Student: (an immediate response) "Ker-plunk!"
Entire class of laughter ensues, including myself.
Me: (Directing the question to student) Does that carry a negative or positive connotation?
Student: Depends. It can be either, just depending on the situation.
Yeah. That's teaching for you. You are welcome.
