sunonface

moon & star and midnight blue

"a new reading of my world requires a new language - that of possibility, open to hope" Freire

Stepping into deep water sometimes brings blue calm #15/100

Together we sat at the picnic table in the sun. We sat in the sun and we listened to the wind. We breathed it in. Long deep breaths. Slowly. We listened to the wind, warmed by the sun. And we were stronger. #takeaway 14/100

And i hike. up into the hills. I hike. I hike until wind washes my eyes and night is the song of the red winged black bird. I hike. Thick into twilight haze settling across prairie. across rose hip and wolf willow. hint of haze turning tomorrow to dew, to gleam, hope. Slows my pace. This quiet place. valley's plateau. Gentle green. Old friend. Moments here. 13/100

belonging to wind returning like shadow calming with sun 12/100

belonging to wind returning like shadow calming with sun 12/100

This is the loveliest and messiest story #storying #narrativeinquiry In its own time.

The fundamental things apply

My dad always carried treasures in his pockets. If i needed a tissue, a quarter, golf tee, dad had it. If we ran out of drywall nails, dad had four. If i needed a bandaid, I'd patch myself up with black electrical tape from dad's coat pocket. It might not have been someone else's pretty, but it was what was needed. What was needed. Love authentic. The twist-tie understandings, now that I am grown and i fill my pockets with the resonance of dad's teachings, are magic. 11/100

A puzzling space. Somewhere between. There is much fog and always light. There is a gentleness of comfort in not knowing yet trusting. Like the certainty of Aspen dust, tracing rivers of Cottonwood bark with finger tip. Scent of sage. Feel of rock. Russsh of water. Wolf Willow in June. Worth the long winter. Here. Here. In the midst. 10/100

The point where it ALL meets #light

"Where can the students empty their spit valves?" "Oh, right here, it's just a dance room."

Ballerina adventures are sensory overload; darkened hallways are lovely reprieves.

Possible. 8/100

Recently someone remarked that I take my job personally. I replied, "thank you." I love caring about kids. I love feeling peeks and valleys. I love that the kids I live alongside know this as truth. I love that my daughter is first and work stories don't always stop at the threshold. I am trying to be mindful of every moment of life. Living and reliving stories of experience beautiful, wide open, vulnerable. Just as my dad taught me. Reminded me of two years ago when he held my hand from a hospital bed, "don't stop." Live. Dad would say, there's a teaching there. 7/100

"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" L.M.M.