Stress and being sick

So..the school year starts..and i have no lab in either building...and now teach two more brand new classes..and the stress just creeps in. The weeks go by...and the situation doesn't change..only now I am fighting little sleep and the germs of 400 students...and stress builds. I try to sleep more, eat right, and breathe. Why is getting centered so dang hard? Breathe and focus...breathe and focus...Maybe i'll get it...

but now i'm sick....and it's hanging on...and I'm exhausted.

hard to focus on centering...and leaving the stress behind

The Fork

This poem called The Fork was written as I sat by the nagahela (i can't spell it) river in North Carolina. The river had many boats floating along it. Some places were smooth and quiet..and others had very fast rapids. I hope you like it.

The Fork

Gliding slowly down the quiet water,
Moving along with the current of life
Settled calmly in the open air
Green leaves and flowers slide silently by
Birds present a concert of song
Never-ending along the way

Paddle still, used only to gently guide the way
Past rocks and trees, providing power
When the current is weak and waves small
Providing direction when unbidden movements arrive,
Strong currents dictate the way and
Waves push toward danger and uncertainty

River runs clear when the fork appears
View hidden by bends and trees
Left or right---decision looms
Each path a different journey, both unseen, unknown
Random choice or deliberate action
Push the bow and journey on

The way may be smooth, wide paths free of rocks and waves
Tree-lined with still waters, punctuated by the shouts
Of song birds, cracks of slight feet
On dry branches and long dead leaves
Time made for reflection and thought
Finding the center and seeing the way floating along

The way may be rough, narrow and rock filled
Waves reach high with frothy force, hiding dangers below
The beating of water on the sides drown out the
Songs of forest, the strong heartbeat pounding
Darting sights side to side, discerning the danger
Seeking safety and peace amidst the rapids

We seek to take the easy fork, avoid the pain
Yet amidst the pain is growth, strength reborn
along the rapids, there is wisdom, experience acquired
confidence and empathy renewed and nurtured
even as the calm path renews and refreshes
focuses and restores, the rapids of life breeds empathy

seek both in the path of life
the rough and the smooth, the easy and the hard
for in the full journey is the whole of life’s experiences

Another year

Another year is nearly over. One 1/2 day left, then I walk away. I will be looking for another place to pass on what i know...another place to give of myself. Even though I will probably not find what i am looking for, i will search. In every part of our life, we search and seek...

Making sure we give ourselves permission to live and grow and feel and hurt and be angry is the hardest part of the search....and the most important..

Affirmations that help me:

The world is ruled by letting things take it's course
We would never learn to be brave and patient if there were only joy in the world
Be master of mind rather than mastered by mind.
Water which is too pure has no fish.
Let the waters settle. You will see stars and moon mirrored in your Being.
Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.
Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid only of standing still.

I hope they help you. :-)

Life is a circle

So..life comes around again....and where do we go from there?

Spring’s Ascent

cold wind whips over
the barren field
not even bare trees
stop it’s bitter bite

brown and grey cover
the landscape
testament to the
fading white blanket

never ending darkness
hangs on like the
lone climber up the
sheer rock face

not wanting to relent
to the oncoming light
the slow climbing
sun warming it’s path

yet warmth, green
cannot be halted
rising from deep within
pushing aside that which is dormant

tentative at first, seeking
safe warm and sun
poking first above the surface
barely daring to seek it’s light

warmth and light feed the new
passion, struggling to take root
safe in the wrapping of love,
yet tender and fragile

under the gentle touch
of water and warmth
passion grows, unseen
digging deep into the soul

until the last holds of
the dark day relent
releasing the power
of passion to burst
through for all to see and share

Wounded Butterfly

delicate wings, lithe body
resting on the edge
folding, unfolding in the
warmth of the sun

breezes cool the heat
belie the coming storm
resting and waiting
in a masquarde of safety

sudden change, unseen and swift
winds tearing at the
peaceful rest
rain pelting and ripping

butterfly falls, unable to
find the edge again,
useless wings, torn and shredded
blinded and afraid

finally landing on the
hard ground, cold
wet, mud-covered
and in pain

safety gone,
warmth turned to cold
looking up into the
darkness of night

strength fades
confidence wanes
deep pain invades
the once-full heart

time must pass
storm must run
its course and move away,
to find another

time ticks slowly
never-ending minutes
turn into days and nights
and days again