Switzerland was incredible, stunning, spectacular, generous, amazing, glorious.
As is Home.
More later -
Monday, May 22, 2017
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Hit "Reset" -
"You have the right to start the day over at any time."
I find I have to start the year over, or begin a new year, every May. And so beginning tomorrow, I'm hitting the reset button, and taking some time off to reflect, get energized, and decide what direction/s I'm heading this summer.
As usual, I have a few irons in the fire, and, oddly, I've taken a few out. So now I need to decide just what it is I want to be doing, how I want to spend my time this summer, and honestly - I need to find time to "be."
Seems like I'm at a crossroads, again, with choices, options, and I need time to review, and then hit reset. So, here's to recharging and renewing, and reflecting, and moving forward!
Tuesday, May 9, 2017
Culture - Respect - Discourse
I'm a respecter of cultures and people and their ways of living. That is how I would best describe me, and how I would best describe my aspirations. This is my daily drive - it's why I get up in the morning, and why I can't sleep at night.
I was taught, and I have taught, that while we don't need to approve of everyone's lives and lifestyles, we do need to accept others, and do our best to understand their stories, a very simple simple lesson ingrained in me from my very beginning. And not only was that lesson taught, but the actions were there. My grandparents and parents were genuine examples of tolerance and acceptance, and curiosity. If you don't understand, if you want to know more, ask. Most people are willing and happy to share their stories.
Life is good, and life is great when judging is thrown out the window and appreciation, or at least curiosity, for differences, becomes the norm.
And when that becomes the norm, then understanding takes place, and stories are shared, and songs are sung, and tales are told, and ways are explained, and meals are shared, and lives are lived in tandem, out of respect. And then we become authentic people who care for discourse and lives. And for our stories - once told, we will remember them, and live them. Therein lies the magic of acceptance, appreciation, alive'ness.
And this is my hope, my dream, my drive.
A side note - my tattoo symbolizes this; happy for it.
I was taught, and I have taught, that while we don't need to approve of everyone's lives and lifestyles, we do need to accept others, and do our best to understand their stories, a very simple simple lesson ingrained in me from my very beginning. And not only was that lesson taught, but the actions were there. My grandparents and parents were genuine examples of tolerance and acceptance, and curiosity. If you don't understand, if you want to know more, ask. Most people are willing and happy to share their stories.
Life is good, and life is great when judging is thrown out the window and appreciation, or at least curiosity, for differences, becomes the norm.
And when that becomes the norm, then understanding takes place, and stories are shared, and songs are sung, and tales are told, and ways are explained, and meals are shared, and lives are lived in tandem, out of respect. And then we become authentic people who care for discourse and lives. And for our stories - once told, we will remember them, and live them. Therein lies the magic of acceptance, appreciation, alive'ness.
And this is my hope, my dream, my drive.
“It is only when our old songs and old tales are passing
from one human being to another, by word-of-mouth, that they can attain their
full fascination. No printed page can create this spell. It is the living
word—the sung ballad and the told tale—that holds our attention and reaches our
hearts.”
~ Richard Chase
A side note - my tattoo symbolizes this; happy for it.
Monday, May 8, 2017
End of the School Year Anxiety - Unwinding -
At the end of every school year Scott and I usually pack our bags and head out of town as soon as grades are posted.
We've been to Southern Utah, Alabama and Tennessee, Northern California, and this year we're off again (details to come).
Leaving is a good way of regrouping - clearing the UVU files from my brain, changing my focus from go go go to a possibility of relaxing. And it takes me a few weeks to do so. While in this liminal space, this transition from one level of earnestness to a level of relaxation, I suffer from anxiety.
And I really do mean suffer. I've had a couple of panic attacks the past two weeks. I can't breathe, my heart races, the walls come closer, I cannot focus, relax, or sleep.
This is new to me. Only happening post-cancer, which, interestingly, does coincide with school ending.
So right now I'm aching, tired, anxious, and I can't focus. I hop from one project to the next, attempting to complete, but almost like a caged animal - I pace and I fidget. I glance around, wiggle while sitting, wander, eat like I shouldn't, I'm cranky, and although I am kinda numb, my mind won't stop. I have a hard time carrying on a conversation, I want to be alone, and I don't really want to do much of anything.
I do think anxiety and burnout are synonymous with focused energy over a long period of time, a mindset that says "when school is out," and then the realization that school is out. I push so hard that it's really difficult for me to reframe.
Hence the need to leave town. Away is where I can refind myself. Engage with me and my honey. Decide what is important, what my priorities are for the summer, where I see myself in August, and then figure out a plan.
But that's not all that happens while we're away. It's a chance to really "chill." And typically with a long drive or plane ride, by the time we've arrived, I'm breathing a little more slowly.
So Scott and I have a chance to be "us." Not a chaplain, a professor, a mother, a daughter, not even a wife. I'm Ronda, Scott's Scott, we're lovers, wanderers, explorers, tourists. I like this us, and this time to gather myself.
And come home clean, ready to be a part of the world where I'm not hyper-focused, hyper-vigilant.
We've been to Southern Utah, Alabama and Tennessee, Northern California, and this year we're off again (details to come).
Leaving is a good way of regrouping - clearing the UVU files from my brain, changing my focus from go go go to a possibility of relaxing. And it takes me a few weeks to do so. While in this liminal space, this transition from one level of earnestness to a level of relaxation, I suffer from anxiety.
And I really do mean suffer. I've had a couple of panic attacks the past two weeks. I can't breathe, my heart races, the walls come closer, I cannot focus, relax, or sleep.
This is new to me. Only happening post-cancer, which, interestingly, does coincide with school ending.
So right now I'm aching, tired, anxious, and I can't focus. I hop from one project to the next, attempting to complete, but almost like a caged animal - I pace and I fidget. I glance around, wiggle while sitting, wander, eat like I shouldn't, I'm cranky, and although I am kinda numb, my mind won't stop. I have a hard time carrying on a conversation, I want to be alone, and I don't really want to do much of anything.
I do think anxiety and burnout are synonymous with focused energy over a long period of time, a mindset that says "when school is out," and then the realization that school is out. I push so hard that it's really difficult for me to reframe.
Hence the need to leave town. Away is where I can refind myself. Engage with me and my honey. Decide what is important, what my priorities are for the summer, where I see myself in August, and then figure out a plan.
But that's not all that happens while we're away. It's a chance to really "chill." And typically with a long drive or plane ride, by the time we've arrived, I'm breathing a little more slowly.
So Scott and I have a chance to be "us." Not a chaplain, a professor, a mother, a daughter, not even a wife. I'm Ronda, Scott's Scott, we're lovers, wanderers, explorers, tourists. I like this us, and this time to gather myself.
And come home clean, ready to be a part of the world where I'm not hyper-focused, hyper-vigilant.
Wednesday, May 3, 2017
Semester's Over!
Things I've learned this school year -
There is such a thing as entitled students. As much as I didn't want to believe this, and as little as I've seen throughout my 15 years of teaching - there are students who think they deserve more because of where they come from, rather than what they do.
My syllabus isn't credible, tough, strongly-worded, enough. No matter how powerfully I state my course beliefs and my class rules, there are still students who don't believe me.
Some students you love, some you don't, and vice-versa.
Students cannot be friends during the school year.
College professors are under-paid, particularly adjuncts.
Adjunct professors teach what they do - and do teach because they love to share their knowledge with others. There's a big difference between spending 40 hours a week on campus and spreading time between workplace and campus. Students get quite the deal when they get an adjunct professor who works in the profession they teach in.
Students are still "kids" with lives that aren't necessarily tied to school. They need adults who understand this and will be available to them. The best conversations I've had this year are when I ask, "What do you think about . . . " and listened.
Sometimes a student just needs a little slack. Just as I need a little give sometimes, so do my students.
"Compromise" isn't a dirty word. Neither is the phrase, "Read the syllabus."
"Creative" and "Critical Thinking" can go hand in hand. But students need to be taught and guided.
Students are eager.
The classrooms in the LA building suck. IT is erratic at best, and the Help Desk is more than a phone call away.
Everyone needs a break from being in a classroom. Attending school, or teaching, more than two semesters in a row is tough on everyone. Take a break.
I love teaching; even as a professor I am a constant student, and I learn so much from my students.
Now to get to my reading list!
There is such a thing as entitled students. As much as I didn't want to believe this, and as little as I've seen throughout my 15 years of teaching - there are students who think they deserve more because of where they come from, rather than what they do.
My syllabus isn't credible, tough, strongly-worded, enough. No matter how powerfully I state my course beliefs and my class rules, there are still students who don't believe me.
Some students you love, some you don't, and vice-versa.
Students cannot be friends during the school year.
College professors are under-paid, particularly adjuncts.
Adjunct professors teach what they do - and do teach because they love to share their knowledge with others. There's a big difference between spending 40 hours a week on campus and spreading time between workplace and campus. Students get quite the deal when they get an adjunct professor who works in the profession they teach in.
Students are still "kids" with lives that aren't necessarily tied to school. They need adults who understand this and will be available to them. The best conversations I've had this year are when I ask, "What do you think about . . . " and listened.
Sometimes a student just needs a little slack. Just as I need a little give sometimes, so do my students.
"Compromise" isn't a dirty word. Neither is the phrase, "Read the syllabus."
"Creative" and "Critical Thinking" can go hand in hand. But students need to be taught and guided.
Students are eager.
The classrooms in the LA building suck. IT is erratic at best, and the Help Desk is more than a phone call away.
Everyone needs a break from being in a classroom. Attending school, or teaching, more than two semesters in a row is tough on everyone. Take a break.
I love teaching; even as a professor I am a constant student, and I learn so much from my students.
Now to get to my reading list!
Tuesday, May 2, 2017
Monday, May 1, 2017
Complex - Complicated -
I've been thinking about these two words quite a bit, since a student used them in a paper, interchangeably. And they're not twins/synonyms, they can't be used in place of the other.
Yes, it's complicated and complex. I'll try and decipher the difference.
Complicated - Today's schedule - workout early this morning while wanting to sleep, hospital, UVU, chaplain meeting are the logistical issues, with patient visits, chaplain meetings, papers to grade, papers to write, whiny students to listen to, finding an LDS employee to give a blessing, volunteer appreciation day and Admin appreciation day gifts and kind words, stay bright and cheery on 6 hours of sleep, directions for roasted veggies to Scott, field chaplain calls that are not mine to field - in kindness, order cake for party tomorrow night, and have the energy and serenity to oversee a meeting this evening. And lunch with Tom and Jenna.
That's complicated.
Complex - My breast pain scare - anxiety it produced, that still hasn't totally left me. Sorting out in my mind what is truth, what is real, and what that truth and reality mean. Attempting to keep this from my loved ones, so I don't have to explain the complexity of my fears. I can't explain the unexplainable.
That's complex.
Yes, it's complicated and complex. I'll try and decipher the difference.
Complicated - Today's schedule - workout early this morning while wanting to sleep, hospital, UVU, chaplain meeting are the logistical issues, with patient visits, chaplain meetings, papers to grade, papers to write, whiny students to listen to, finding an LDS employee to give a blessing, volunteer appreciation day and Admin appreciation day gifts and kind words, stay bright and cheery on 6 hours of sleep, directions for roasted veggies to Scott, field chaplain calls that are not mine to field - in kindness, order cake for party tomorrow night, and have the energy and serenity to oversee a meeting this evening. And lunch with Tom and Jenna.
That's complicated.
Complex - My breast pain scare - anxiety it produced, that still hasn't totally left me. Sorting out in my mind what is truth, what is real, and what that truth and reality mean. Attempting to keep this from my loved ones, so I don't have to explain the complexity of my fears. I can't explain the unexplainable.
That's complex.
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