Seeds of Possibility

On Valentine’s Day I received the most unique valentine ever.  Instead of a box of candy, flowers or some other sweet treat, on our dining room table were two sealed plastic containers and a card that read “About 500 Lady Bugs And Your Husband Wish You A Happy Valentine’s Day.”  My gift was 500 ladybugs ready for release into our garden.  What I loved about this gift, beside its uniqueness, was that it was meant to be given away.  This theme has come up more than once lately and it is something I’m thinking about often these days.

Besides my valentine gift, I received a lesson in this kind of giving recently when I asked a colleague to provide a service for a visiting friend.  The intention was to pay for the service but she refused to allow us to compensate her.  We paid her anyway and said if she didn’t feel right about keeping the money she should pass it on to someone who would benefit from it.  She did this and later said, “I understand now why you insisted on handling the situation this way.  I gave the money to someone who really needed it and realized it was important that she was a part of the circle, too.”

Gifts like this remind us that everything in life is in a constant state of change and sometimes the best way to enjoy the fullness of a gift is to pass it on.  The ladybugs were a gift of love.  As I popped the tops off the two containers and set them down in our garden, I thought of the  ladybugs flying off into the world, each a tiny ambassador of love.  My gift became a gift for someone else, expanding the love and generosity of someone’s heart.

In addition to the sharing part of a gift like this, allowing it to pass through your hands without attachment, knowing it will move on to someone else, is great practice for life.  There are many aspects of life  that are gifts in perpetual forward movement, particularly our children.  As parents, grandparents or even teachers, it’s natural to want to hold on to them.  Yet we eventually need to let them go, to release them out into the world like the ladybugs.  Knowing that letting go is an eventuality, we can be present to them more fully at each stage while we have them “in our hands.”  It’s one of the joys and sorrows of life all wrapped up into one experience.  Practicing with our hearts filled with love helps the joyful part expand, knowing that our gift will be enjoyed by others in a multitude of ways.

I’ve been thinking about integrity lately, mostly in response to a situation unrelated to the Seed.  I’ve pondered what it is that makes one a person of integrity and ways I can be more vigilant about living in an integrous way.  I was reflecting on this Saturday while out in the garden with three of our  grandchildren.  My grandson asked if he could pick some flowers and I said yes.  As usual, he cut the stems about an inch long, so they were too short to put in a vase.  When the flowers are cut too short, we traditionally float them in a bowl with water.  I suggested he do this and he said he’d take care of it.  After awhile he came back outside to play and I forgot about the flowers momentarily.  When I went inside for a pair of scissors, I noticed he’d taken three plastic cups from a drawer he could reach and placed each flower and some water in each one.  They were so beautiful I brought them outside to photograph.  Later as I looked at the photo, I decided his three flowers in cups were in some way connected to integrity.

I thought about different words that describe people of integrity:  trustworthy, kind, honest, dependable, honorable, steadfast, predictable, careful.  I tried to narrow it down to three, but was unsuccessful.  This morning as I took my morning walk in the dark, I figured out what the three cups represented.

The branch of yoga I have practiced since 2003 is based on what is referred to as the “Universal Principles of Alignment.”  The principles include the 3 A’s:  attitude, alignment, and action.  In a yogic context, attitude is the intention a practitioner brings to the mat, alignment is the awareness and application of certain postural recommendations, and action refers to the way a student does the pose, balancing stability and freedom.  Over the years I have heard these 3 A’s woven throughout my practice and have usually restricted my thinking about them to what goes on while I’m doing poses on my mat.  As I thought about integrity and the three cups with flowers, an expanded interpretation of the 3 A’s came to mind.

In the process of living our lives we have choices to make.  Taking those choices into account, we approach each day with a certain attitude.  It’s what we have to offer on a regular basis.  We have the option of aligning ourselves with the qualities of integrity or not, which are available as guidelines for living.  What we actually do, how we conduct ourselves is action.  It’s our personal expression of life.    When these three elements are in place and balanced, they become like the three flowers in cups; each steadfastly holding space for the light to shine through.

Admittedly, I’m not a dog person.  I grew up with dogs, especially collies, but when I became an adult and started a school, we never had pets.  After spending my whole day taking care of children, there wasn’t much left for an animal.  And because of the amount of time we spend away from home, we didn’t think it was fair to an animal to be left alone so much.  Only a few dogs have captured my heart in recent years.  My friend Annie’s dog Darla was a great friend during the days I spent alone with her in Maine one summer.  My friend Al, who passed away years ago, used to take his dog Mikey on our annual camping trip to the Rez.  After throwing the slimy stick he retrieved at least fifty times a day, Mikey grew on me.  There were my granddaughter’s chihuahuas, notably Chin-Chinchilada, Beans, and Lala, all deceased now, who all showed immense personality for small dogs.  And there was Candy.

I first met Candy when her owner, Parker, was in my 4th/5th grade class.  Candy is a service dog who helps Parker, now seventeen, cope with the stresses of life brought on by Asperger’s syndrome, a form of high functioning autism.  When Parker was in my class, Candy came to school with him and soon became an additional member of our class.  She enjoyed recess with the children and even attended our graduation trip.  Over the years I’ve known Candy and Parker, she did much more than help him remain calm during moments of stress.  She became part of their family.  Candy and Parker got involved with dog agility training and won many awards.  She traveled with them to their farm in Kansas and has been Parker’s constant companion.  Over time Parker was able to attend school without Candy, but she’s still his best friend.   All of us who knew Candy and Parker when he was a Seed were more than a little concerned when we heard the news she’d recently wandered off from a dog groomer’s place.  We knew what this meant to a special member of our village.

News of Candy’s disappearance made it to a local TV station and the next morning as soon as I heard what happened, I sent out a message to nearly everyone on my email list.  I even posted a rare message on my facebook page.  I was in contact with Parker’s mom all morning for the latest updates.  It was a happy moment when her text arrived saying that Candy had been found safely at a local animal shelter and was on her way home.  It’s one reunion I would’ve loved to see.  I know Parker will face other challenges as he steps into adulthood in the not-so-far-off future.  For now, though, I’m glad he and Candy had a happy ending to this adventure.  It’s one boy and his dog who deserve more time together.

It was such a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I had to be in the garden for awhile.  I felt a little guilty allowing myself this time, knowing that all of the lead teachers were likely working away on their progress reports.  I then reminded myself that I put in my decades of writing progress reports, and it was probably in everyone’s best interest that I spend a little time reconnecting with the earth.    Considering how infrequently I’ve been out there lately, the beds were in fairly good condition.  The soil was more damp than usual, due to the extra moisture we’ve had lately and our trusty sprinkler system.  I discovered a huge crop of volunteer lobelia sprouting up everywhere that will soon adorn the garden with a lovely blue.  I was happy to see that five more lacinto kale seeds I planted in October have finally sprouted to join the other two that are already producing edible leaves.  The peas are starting to blossom and soon we will have sunflowers again.  January is a generous time in the garden.

After spending over an hour pulling weeds, trimming cabbage leaves and removing the last dried up cinnamon basil plant, I wandered over to my first ever row of fennel to see how things were going.  Fennel is such a beautiful plant with white translucent stalks touching the soil.  Reaching out like fingers from the base of the stalk are green shoots with feathery leaves that remind me of how dill grows.  I love how you can see sunlight shining through them like stained glass windows.  There are various sizes of fennel plants growing in the row and the heartiest looking ones are those surrounded by extra space.  One of the most painful parts of gardening for me is thinning out rows to make space for the remaining plants to grow.  Whenever possible, I try to transplant those that happen to be growing in a too crowded place.  Fennel, like carrots or beets, has such a large root that transplanting isn’t generally successful.  The weaker plants all huddled together usually don’t make the cut.  My only consolation is that they are consumed earlier than the rest of the crop or end up in the compost.

This idea of pruning, thinning out what no longer serves us, is something I think about frequently.  As I grow older, I find myself practicing it in other areas of my life besides the garden.  Foods that are not nutritious are no longer a part of my diet. How I spend my time and with whom is a carefully selected process.  Even thoughts that are counter-productive to my well being are given as little energy as possible.  In the end, the practice of living consciously is a lot like growing a garden; what we give space and time to holds the potential to nourish us the most.

On Sunday night for the first time since I started writing my blog, I couldn’t think of what to write.  As I’ve told the young writers I’ve worked with for over three decades, it isn’t a matter of not having a topic, but of having too many to choose from.  Life has been full lately and there’s always an endless list of situations that bring personal reflection and growth.  One thing I’ve been thinking about lately is the role of one’s perspective in approaching what appear to be obstacles.

For much of my life as a school director, I’ve felt frustrated by situations that arise and seem like they’re getting in the way of what I consider to be my real work.  I have my list for the day all figured out and then ten other things come up demanding my attention.  At the end of a busy day, not one thing has been crossed off my list and more items have been added.  Over time, I’ve come to embrace the idea that the apparent obstacles aren’t getting in the way of my work, they are my work.  Just coming to this realization has relieved a lot of stress in my life.  It hasn’t eliminated the constant stream of challenges, but it has allowed me to handle them with considerably more grace.

These are challenging times and as I move forward in my life, trying to live each day with integrity, I am learning to see each apparent obstacle as an opportunity.  Each one stretches me beyond what I think I am capable of handling, extending my ability to respond with clarity and wisdom.  Every obstacle/opportunity is a chance to practice deep breathing and to remember that there are very few events in life over which we have control.  I will be the first to admit that I have much to learn about being a human being.  I make mistakes, I stumble with communications, I fall short of my own self-expectations.  But I keep trying, and remind myself that even the most exquisite rose has its thorns, there for a reason but not intended to overshadow the flower’s beauty.  If we can help each other remember this, we’ll go a long way in helping our planet be a healthier place for all of us to live and grow.

Last Wednesday I gave a tour of the Seed to a large group of potential parents.  We were also joined that day by a delightful teacher from New Zealand who was visiting Arizona as part of the Tempe Sister City Exchange Program.  We held our usual question and answer session in the staff room and then ventured out to the playground.  Our next destination was the outdoor area on the south side of the building.  We rounded the corner and made our way to the PreK outdoor classroom where a lively group of four and five year olds was hard at work.  They were bustling around watering their garden, moving rocks, digging in the mud, and generally loving their time together outdoors.  One child happily walked about, munching on a fresh spinach leaf.  Her face beamed.  I noticed another child lying very still face down in the dirt.  She held the position for quite awhile before standing up to join her friends again.  When I questioned her later about what she was doing, she said she was pretending to be a seed, waiting for someone to water her so she could grow.

The next day the class made kale pasta with kale harvested from their own garden.  The children had an overwhelmingly positive response.  On the white board outside their classroom these words were posted:  “Today we cooked kale pasta, which 17 of 18 LOVED.  Quotes about the pasta include:  ‘It was so good it made me shiver.’  ‘I wish I had eight more bowls.’  ‘This is better than pancakes.’  ‘This pasta is better than any pasta…except itself.’

It’s stories like this one that make the Seed what it is.  It’s what keeps me returning day after day, year after year.  Witnessing the children loving the bounty of their garden and their outdoor space with such joy, revealed a different glimpse of the school for me.  I’ve been thinking lately how prevalent stress is in all of our lives, how children are being asked earlier and earlier to give up their childhoods so they can  prepare for tests.  I recall hearing about one school where the kindergarten teachers prided themselves that there was no play, no dress-ups or housekeeping area in their classrooms.  When I see children interacting with the earth and each other as the PreK students were last week, I have a renewed sense of hope for our future.  In a sense we are all like that young girl lying in the dirt, pretending to be a seed that someone will come along and water.  May we all approach life with such optimism and faith in our fellow humans.

Recently we had friends over for dinner and it was a proud moment to be able to serve a salad completely grown in our garden (minus the feta, cranberries, and dressing).  The bowl contained onions, chard, mustard greens, kale, spinach, cilantro, and lettuce.  I consider it no small privilege to eat a salad like that.  It symbolized what I am trying to do with my life–stay close to the earth, live and eat well, keep it simple, and focus my attention on issues that matter.  I am devoting this year to serving the well being of those around me as I also remember to take care of myself.  It seems like an important time to make personal efforts to live and be in a healthier way.  It was inspiring our first week back at school to see that I’m not the only one thinking this way.

Based on the TV show, Biggest Loser, our assistant director cooked up a plan to motivate the staff to get healthier.  Because it’s the Seed, we’re calling the plan Biggest Winners!  Involvement is optional and there are several ways to be involved, including logging exercise time, weight loss (pounds or percentage), and eating better.  Participants also have the choice of competing for a cash pool created by everyone adding five dollars for participating.  Each person has a different reason for participating.  One staff member wants to be able to wear all of the pants hanging in her closet.  Another one wants better aerodynamics for bike riding.  Some are only doing the fitness part and others are going for the whole program.  Each person checks in on Thursdays and keeps track of weight, exercise time, type of exercise, and reflects on the kind of food eaten each day.  It’s an honor system with built-in accountability.

There was a big buzz around the Seed all last week and I noticed a huge increase in conversations about healthy food choices, exchanging recipes, and advice for wiser nutritional options for favorite calorie-dense foods.  Talk about kinds of exercise and metabolism at various stages of life flowed freely.  Returning back to school after the weekend, I heard several celebratory chats between staff members offering encouragement for pounds lost and recorded exercise time.

Although it’s a competition, it feels more like a big support group to help everyone to improve their quality of life.  If we can do that for each other, we are also modeling for children both supportive behavior and healthier living.  Accomplishing that, we are all the biggest winners.

A few days before Christmas I was walking to the post office and noticed some multi-colored leaves on the sidewalk.  Whipping out my iPhone, I moved in close for the photo shoot.  Not only were the leaves of various brilliant colors, there were at least three that stood out for a different reason.  Each had been stepped on by a shoe that left a unique imprint.  One was zig-zaggy, another a pattern of solid squares, and the third had rows of tiny circles.  These surprise designs added even more diversity to an already varied collection of leaves.  The imprints inspired some thinking about how each of us leaves our imprint on the planet.

Days later, a friend introduced me to the book The Price of Civilization by Jeffery D. Sachs.  I’m still working my way through it, but one thing is clear, we need to step up our stewardship of the planet.  Sachs writes about “the idea that the living generation must be stewards of the earth’s resources for the generations that will come later” and describes sustainability as “fairness to the future.”  The Seed was founded on a vision of planetary stewardship.  For 35 years we have devoted considerable effort to educating our students, their families, and ourselves on how to better serve our planet.  We talk about using cloth bags for shopping, composting food scraps, and eliminating use of plastic bags for lunch items.  We discuss recycling aluminum cans and what we can do to clean up the Great Pacific Garbage Dump.  It’s been an ongoing 35 year conversation.  I’m filled with encouragement when I see the diligence of toddler parents sending their youngster’s lunch in beautifully designed earth-friendly containers.  Seeing the Seed’s gardens flourishing gives me hope that we’re raising a generation of children who will continue to care about the planet.  Meeting up with our former Seeds who are now in college majoring in sustainability-related fields is more than heart-warming.

Nevertheless, as we begin this new year, I feel an increasing sense of urgency to do better.  I am committed to being less wasteful with food and available materials.  If I go into a store and forget my reusable bags, I’ll make the extra effort to walk back out to my car to get them.  I will avoid buying anything plastic that isn’t recyclable.  I’ll plant a few more vegetables in my garden.  I will continue to educate those who are still waking up to the idea that everything we do affects everyone else on the planet.  As we move into 2012, I vow to walk lighter on the earth, leaving a footprint that will hopefully be as beautiful as the leaves I noticed on the sidewalk, imprinted by another human who also walks upon our precious Planet Earth.

Fluffy clouds made of shaving cream and glue rest on the rack, glitter and jewels sinking into the drying foam.  In a few days the clouds will be transformed into hats that will rest on dancing preschoolers’ heads this coming Friday night.  Every classroom has some sort of project like this going on in preparation for the Seed’s annual Celebration of the Winter Solstice.  It’s an event we put a great deal of energy into, and the event always lives up to its billing.  Here’s a little history:

The Seed Celebration of the Winter Solstice began in the mid-1980s as a way of celebrating the season and at the same time honoring the various traditions of families in the school.  Over the years we’ve gotten into the practice of selecting a children’s book with either a seasonal theme or one that promotes celebration of diversity, and then adapting it for the event.  During the month of December each class rehearses a dance for their part in the story, makes costumes and any necessary props.  For rehearsals we tape the floor of the multipurpose room in the same configuration as the markings on the gym floor where we perform.  This year, due to our new location, none of the children will have ever performed in the space where we’ll be.

The Celebration of the Winter Solstice is truly a community event.  Teachers collaborate and help each other with all aspects of the process.  Parents assist with choreography and costumes.  Toddlers practice their moves to familiar music and older students rehearse more complex dance steps to perfection.  On Thursday and Friday morning we hold a dress rehearsal so we can see each others‘ dances and go through the show a couple of times.  By Friday evening, we’re rehearsed just enough to know what to do and still find the dancing interesting.

The time from 6:45 until 7, when the show starts, is without a question the most demanding fifteen minutes of the whole school year.  Classes gather offstage to put last minute touches on costumes and prepare to walk onto the stage.  Some of the toddlers cry when their parents leave them with their teachers to take their seats in the audience.  Most of the kids are bouncing around with excitement, eager to perform.  Once the show gets started, everyone settles down, even the toddlers.  As each class offers its dance to the evening, the audience is significantly impressed.  Miraculously, the whole program is finished in an hour.

Our Celebration of the Winter Solstice is the staff and children’s way to say thanks to parents and families who support us year round.  It’s our gift of the season, an evening of inspiration, hope, and love.

A row of paper snowmen can make all the difference in a child’s life.  This little band of frozen friends has a special mission, to bring extra holiday cheer to mothers and children who desperately need it.  On each snowman is written a gift idea, such as a baby doll, jacket, or pair of shoes.  Generous Seed families select a snowman, purchase the gift and return it unwrapped to the school.  The week before Christmas, we deliver all the gifts to a location that supports the Sojourner Center, a shelter for victims of domestic violence.  The gifts are made available to mothers through a “store” where they can choose and personally wrap their selected items for their families.

Established in 1977, the same year the Seed was founded, the Sojourner Center is named after Sojourner Truth, the famous abolitionist.  She was an activist during the Civil War who helped eliminate slavery after she herself was emancipated.  Sojourner Truth was a preacher who traveled around the country spreading her message of non-violence and reform.  She became a national symbol of the strength and courage it took to bring about change.  I find it interesting that over the last several years, Awakening Seed has chosen to support a charity named for an individual who spent her life dedicated to bringing about change.

When the Seed was founded, part of the vision was to alleviate suffering in the world.  The vision statement reads, “Suffering can be eliminated through loving kindness and compassion.  This attitude is cultivated most effectively at an early age.”  Programs like the Sojourner Center gift drive give young children an opportunity to practice generosity and kindness.  Helping young children understand difficult concepts such as homelessness, hunger or domestic violence is not an easy task.  Even though they won’t see the recipient of the gift they bring to school, it opens up the dialogue about suffering.  Being a part of the process of selecting a gift for a child who is less fortunate sets the foundation for cultivating kindheartedness.  Children who practice compassion as young children have a greater chance of becoming more loving and empathetic adults.

Just two days into the season, there are already a few gaps in the rows of paper snowmen hanging on the wall.  As each one is selected and exchanged for a gift, it warms my heart to remember that the true gift lies in the giving.  Knowing children are learning this makes it that much more meaningful.  It’s a two-way gift through which everyone receives.