what i learned this summer (can't help it - i'm a teacher)

I learned that campgrounds that are wide open and free with lots of room for your eyes and legs to roam are far better than ones stuck next to a 2-lane highway that make you think a car is going to fly off and land on your tent any second.

I learned that it doesn't matter how much coffee you have during the day, or tequila the night before, or sleep that you had/didn't have... what matters is how much space you have when you need it.

I learned that you don't stick your hand into a snakepit unless you want to get bit. (and this saying works really well with kids who, too like adults, can get their nose in other people's business)

i learned that libraries and coffeeshops are the best places to lounge around in when you're feeling homeless. and that feeling homeless is only a bad thing insofar as people assume that you smell, sometimes you probably do, and you tend to interpret any look on a librarian's face as 'are you ever going to get off that computer and let someone who pays their taxes and votes and who really needs it get on?'

i learned that it doesn't matter how long you have lived/not lived somewhere. it's about the point at which you relax and just accept that you are part of this town you find yourself in. every summer i walk into this sleepy little wide awake town in Colorado and i always think it will take everybody ELSE a long time to accept me back having not seen me for awhile, but it's really about me letting go of my self consciousness and just accepting that i AM back.

i learned that the way you know someone loves you is the way they hug you. when a person hugs you and they can't speak? you know they love you.

i learned that i love people and i will always love people. it's the reason why i travel so much. i love meeting new people, hearing new stories of other peoples' lives. retelling their stories to other people. stealing their stories, being inspired by their stories, living out their stories vicariously (and literally sometimes, too). not everyone loves people as much as i do. some people prefer landscapes. some people actively retreat from people. there are times when i need to get away from people, too. but usually, i'd rather pay my bills late, have a messier house, sleep in dirty clothes because i haven't had time to get to the laundry, not water the lawn as often as i should, not get enough exercise, not grade when i should, not get enough groceries to plan out a decent meal and order takeout instead, just because i love to be around people. and there's nothing wrong with either being a people-person or a landscape-person. you need both in this world. i wouldn't have it any other way. but i am definitely a people person, but i need to live the life of a landscape person, too, in order to get perspective on my people-person life. it's good to remove yourself from the hubbub. it's good to be alone. it's good to face your own demons. it's good to get bored and get stuck and feel boring and empty, you find yourself. you realize that you always have you and that if you don't want to be bored it's up to you and ain't nothing going to make you happy unless you make yourself happy and find a way to like what is right in front of you and it's still important to dream and you should dream but you should also enjoy the ride because you may or may not ever get to that dream and an even better dream might come along to surprise you but if all you see is the dream then you'll probably miss the $5 million dollar lottery ticket staring at you on the ground at your feet.

driving with kids

driving with kids can be like... holding your breath for far too long, or eating too much dessert and not being able to move, or having a slice cut through the middle of your forehead and no matter how much you try to massage it out, it won't budge

but it can also be like... a very zenlike experience, a very in-the-now experience as you stop, you can't do anything, you are stuck behind a wheel and all you can see is the world and all you can do is notice things, see things, you can't buy anything, you can't eat anything (really, for very long you'll run out), you can't even talk on the phone much (because generally it's not very legal and most of the time you can't drive too well while doing it),

it's like being a kid. driving is like being a kid. you're stuck, you only have so much at your disposal but you learn to make do with what you have and you learn to love the world as it is. there are not many distractions, really, that you have access to and so you just make you do and you learn to love and you learn to love the art of patience. you have to wait a lot. kids do. waiting. a lot of waiting. a whole lot of 'when are we going to get there?' because you never get to really be where you want to be because as soon as you get there, you've got to keep finding the next exciting place to be. you can't sit still. there is very barely any idling as a kid. you have to move move move move move.

and driving with kids? you learn how to harness your mind. you learn how to make peace with the nonsense. you learn how to negotiate, barter, cajole, flatter, lower your pride, admit defeat, be nice be nice be nice and if all else fails.... step out of the car. remove yourself. take a break. there is no solution to this other than standing on the side of the road of life and taking a break. you have to just stop the rolling momentum and figure out what's what.

but it can also be... beauty, transformation, surprises, huge massive riduclously big chairs built out of lord-knows-what on the side of the road, inventing car games that have never been invented before like 'let's pretend we are characters on a tv show who are riding in a car! game. and listening to music that carries you as you float down the road to the beat and driving becomes effortless as you and the car and the road and the trees and the mountains and the wind are one.

realizing

realizing that I use the word 'realizing' too much but I realize that it's like the word 'remember' to me and remembering is just remembering who you are and what makes you tick and what moves you and what you need to breathe and and and and and I realize/remember that what I need is this... this very hard to pin down feeling but it is possible to remember and realize.

the capacity to feel
sure
that what you are doing
and when you are doing it
is just what you need to be doing
and to radiate that
feeling
of
surety
so that everyone around you
also feels that
assurety
that who they are
and what they are
and what they are doing
and where they are going
is precisely where they need to be
and then
life falls into place
and stops being such an upward big boulder rolling backasswards backwards hill
just
know
that
you
are
fine
right
where
you
are
right
now.
and you'll be where you need to be when it's time to be there but for right now you are right where you need to be. and nobody knows better than you where you need to be.

irinani and pascuali-isms

yesterday, walking by a lazy river, pascual noted the strands and leaves and things floating along...

'those leaves and twigs could be memories made by a kid who was playing upriver from here and they floated down to us'

and Irina...

when I compared her to (couldn't help it, too much catholic school), st. francis of assisi because she can make any animal slow down enough for her to approach it, she said...

'well, I don't believe it. I bet st. francis just had a lot of treats in his pockets.'

blueeeeeee mesaaaaaaa

it's sunny and clear and open and free. the sun glistens on the water and my mind dances with the waves. it's enough that all I have is this view and the kids playing on their own with a friend. just the sounds of happy and curious voices and lapping waves. the sky is big big big and this is all I want. a cool, almost fall-ish breeze and a few clouds just to tease me into thinking it might rain. and it might but it probably won't. and the wind is picking up and I could sit here for hours just counting the waves rolling in like sheep and feeling the  breeze run across my ears, and the wind keeps pushing the waves towards the shore, and the kids - the 3 musketeers - keep alternating between laughing and whining but mostly laughing and squealing with (as my friend Freya would say) 'peals' of joy, and I keep sitting here perched on this rock, taking it all in, wondering how long this peace is gonna last, and a big huge flat rock carried by the boy reminds me of moses' tablet of the big 10 except i'm not religious, I just have these little kernels of imagery emblazoned in my memory, and it's still the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cold for goldilocks, but hot enough to make the cool breeze from the lake worth its long trip to me, but not so cold that I am driven away. perfect.

the flow

sitting still
remembering to just be
remembering that the longer I can just wait for the kids to bloom
for the patience to stop running out
for them to figure it out
the sooner it will
and the sooner I stop trying to get in the middle
to get in the way
the easier it is
to go with the flow
and let the flow pick me up
and take me where it wants to go