When I’m out with my kids, and I run into someone I know, there’s going to be a chance for conversation lingering beyond their bank of patience. After the conversation ends, one of them will say, “Mom, you know everyone.”
On our way home from her harp lesson today, my daughter was looking through my phone messages and told me that I know too many people, because I apparently don’t erase text messages. To this I said,
“I hold onto texts and emails in case there’s something I need to remember. What does that have to do with how many people I know?”
“Do you know how many people are in your contacts?”
“Do I need to?”
“How many friends do you have on Facebook?”
“All of them – and many more that I haven’t yet met.”
I was volunteering at Godfrey Daniels tonight. There was a gentleman there who came up to me after the concert and asked, “You’re Silagh, right?”
I didn’t know his name, and I didn’t remember meeting him.
“Our mutual friend introduced us at Levitt Pavilion last summer.”
And now we’re friends.
Sundays are good days for taking things a little slower. For getting up a little earlier to weed the garden before it gets too hot. To not be bothered by the kids sleeping in. To have a quiet conversation with my husband. To give my son the brunch making duties. To hide away in my office for some blogging reflection.
I’m nearing the end of the 100 posts in 100 days writing challenge. I started to build a habit of writing daily, and to push through the demon self-editor. I haven’t read my posts. OK, I have read one or two, but only to see if I had written about the topic before. To get through the challenge, I started categories to help me think of topics, hoping they’d be interesting. But trying not to think about if readers liked it or not.
It’s not that I don’t care if the reader is engaged. It’s that if I worry too much about what people think, I will not try. The fear monster gains strength and her greatest weapon of destruction is procrastination.
I’ve mentioned a daily blogger that I read, Seth Godin. There are too many days when his morning post supports the exactly thought I’m having. Today was spot on:
The 100 posts in 100 days challenge was like learning to walk. Of course, I stumbled. But I’m happy to say that I feel really good about persisting through the “ah, screw it” thought.
As a musician, I should know this is the only way to really learn how to do something. This mind set informs my own teaching as well. But I don’t always approach change this way. I’m sure it’s fear of ridicule, imposter syndrome, or showing signs of weakness.
But I want to be successful in other areas. Too many other areas. I have to make some choices and small changes. The biking to work goal is going well; but I have to manage saboteurs better. Other health decisions are too easily passed to “ah, screw it” because I haven’t developed better choices that lead to long term habits. If I limit the choices, I may make better decisions. Funny, that’s how I got my toddlers to cooperate… “You can have strawberries or bananas.” “You can wear this outfit, or that outfit.” “When you sit quietly through this lecture, you will get a reward of playing in a fountain. If you choose not to cooperate, no playtime in the fountain.” “You either come with me now, or I’ll leave you in the park all alone to be eaten by wolves…” (This is what I say to them now, as 14 year olds.)
I’ve got to mother myself. Give myself less choices. Take smaller steps and be happy with the steps, not the distance covered in a day, or a week, or a month.
I was thinking this morning about how to thank some incredible people for helping to shape my kids not only in mind, but in spirit.
It’s not enough to be amazed by your own kids’ growth and achievement. Knowing that it took a few dozen teachers and quality school leaders to build a school environment like the one my kids attended.
In an age where our national leaders show less character than we would hope our kids to have, we are grateful for the adults in their lives who show them a better way to lead. By their example, they are kind, respectful, and fair. They hold themselves and their students to high standards. They help them see their actions have consequences and rewards. They encourage them to take risks and to get involved.
How does a parent really thank teachers for doing the job of a superhero?
When the world needs leadership that recognizes the importance of changing human behaviors to save our planet, and we cannot rely on those in power, we have the power to change ourselves.
We can’t point fingers at others unless we are willing to make changes in our own lives.
I started changing my daily routine that can help reduce my personal carbon footprint by biking to work. There were things I had to think through to make this a more substantial change, and not a one week and check it off my list of do-gooder deeds. There will be other benefits to this change: saving money on gas, adding more exercise to my day, reduce downtown parking crowding, adding a few extra minutes in my commute to decompress work before I get home…
Since I started riding my bike to work three weeks ago, I’ve saved more than 70 miles than I would have otherwise used a car. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Want to really understand how the community can be more bike friendly? Start riding a bike and dealing with asshole drivers. Maybe then you’ll start seeing your own driving habits differently.
Many of us have been thinking globally today. I encourage the readers to act locally. Think about small changes you can make. If you have already made some changes, think about more changes. I have a long way to go. This is not a time for self shaming. It’s a time for reclaiming.
One way to act locally is to read or re-read Councilman Willie J. Reynold’s #Bethlehem2017 proposal. Don’t just skim the website. Download the proposal and read it. (psst – don’t print it out either. Save a tree.)
His first point is a Climate Action Plan. “Action” meaning, movement, change, direction. Not doing what we (collectively) have always done and wonder why nothing has changed.
We; the ubiquitous we, can no longer deny our personal responsibility to change our own behaviors. Finger pointing if only to someone else is just as bad as putting our head in the sand. Redirect your finger to yourself.
In the ongoing attempt to understand how to untangle the various negative thoughts in my head, I continue to blog and delete, and write and erase. I search phrases on the internet, hoping to come across someone else’s experience that sounds like mine; if only to find comfort in not feeling alone. Then type more words and hover my finger over the publish button. If my writing helps someone else in their grief, then my pain is not for nothing.
Today could have included a formal ceremony to mark the completion of my fourth graduate degree. I finished it the day before last year’s commencement. But since the final grades were recorded after the deadline for that ceremony, my name appeared in today’s program.
I wanted to process with the faculty, as I have done for ten years in the doctoral robes I earned in 1997. Each time I wore my robes, a few other faculty or administrators would do a double take seeing me wearing them. Yes Virginia, there are academics who choose a different career path because they see the most use of their talents and passions outside the traditional route.
I participate in the ceremony to honor the students. It’s important to have their accomplishment recognized. In the immortal words of Vice President Joe Biden, “It’s a big, f*cking deal.”
My idea to celebrate the Masters of Educational Leadership degree was to leave the faculty area when the college of education read the names of their graduates. I would cue up in line with my name card, hand it to the reader and walk across the stage, then return to my seat with the faculty. Since I had been balancing administrative duties with teaching AND earning a degree, why not continue the same balance in the ceremony? But the protocol rules of regalia required I rent a masters robe and sit with the other graduates to receive the honor of having my name read aloud.
I have only participated in one college commencement ceremony in which I was recognized as a graduate in front of family and friends; thirty years ago. Schedule, travel, or financial limitations got in the way of the other ceremonies. I could have been there today… but…
Most days I feel like I’m over the grief of losing my administrative position. But today I would have had to face a few people who trigger feelings of anger. Even though I understand how the decision was made, I just wish they would say three simple words. The fact that they’ve not said anything to me at all is what hurts even more.
Scrolling through Facebook, Twitter and Instagram today was tough. I was happy to see my students celebrating. And frustrated with myself for not being totally over it yet. I missed another chance to honor myself. This was my last chance for that, too.
I found an article today that helped me reflect on these feelings. I know I have a toxic level of grudge; and it will take more time for me to move on. Until then, these are the pieces of ephemera to mark the achievement.
[The clock has struct midnight. It’s actually May 21. But I’ve been in motion most of the day, so it’s the first time to the blog for this numbered post.]
Today, my thoughts have turned back to the local arts community. This morning’s performance at the Bach Festival was the second performance of the collaboration between the Bach Choir and Mock Turtle Marionette. The telling of Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Nightingale” was full of local artists’ signatures. Not only were the artists local; but the script, the puppets and the collaboration all happened in Bethlehem. Kinda neat – and the source of great local pride.
This afternoon was the second performance of the Bach B minor mass. What’s incredible about this annual event is the people who come to hear it. Their stories of how they came to this performance with their grandparents, or seeing young people coming with their parents… it’s such an honor to see this tradition being celebrated with high musical standards and dedicated listeners.
Tonight’s performance at the Zimmerman Coffee House was a celebration of the next generation of musicians. The artists are college students who have incredible love for this music. To witness a community celebrate the beginning of an artist’s life commitment to performance is a gift.
The afterglow to this artistic day was getting to see another local improv concept comedy show. I laughed so hard tonight, I couldn’t breathe. I will never look at an exclamation point the same way again. The community that is being built at ArtsQuest is another local asset.
I’ve been reading a draft of a local visionary’s biography. The first part is a pretty detailed history of Bethlehem. I’m not sure if what I’m reading will end up in the final version of the book, but it’s definitely impacting the arts I’m experiencing today.
From 110 year old tradition, to emerging new arts communities, I’m thinking that the arts environment here is pretty darned awesome.