It's 4:30 am--I think. I hate this time change. Can't sleep. Still
recovering from blepharoplasty, or eyelid and eyebrow surgery to correct my
continued loss of peripheral vision. Not allowed to do anything. Anything!!
Do you realize what you can do if you'er not allowed to lift anything or bend
your head down or in any way shake or put pressure on your head? Nothing!!
NOTHING! Nothing, except sit on your butt. Been this way for ten days.
Susie, my hovering, angelic drill sergeant is lovingly and caringly staying on
top of this. My eyes shave been so black and blue that I've looked like a
ghoulish raccoon. Both my sons said that all I had needed was to add two bolts
to my neck and I would have had the perfect Halloween Frankenstein's monster
costume. And, those stingy five metallic rows of staples in my scalp itch and
sting like you can't believe aren't coming out until next Thursday. But,
then, I'll have at least another two weeks of imposed inactivity while
everything heals.
That inactivity almost had cast a pall over the Schmier
household--until I came to my senses. It's cheesecake day!!! I had been
hesitating, for just a moment or two, about being willing to have a caloric
overdose and go into a Susie's cheesecake induced food coma. That unmatched
scrumptdelicious delight is her delightful annual birthday gift to me. Today,
November 1st, is my birthday. That my birthday always falls on the holy day of
All Saints Day, according to my beautiful Susie, is the "mother of all
oxymorons." This birthday, however, is supposedly different. My birthday
this year is one those supposed auspicious moments, a plateau that so many
people make so much fuss about. I will be 75. I don't feel, however, whatever
I am supposed to feel standing on this high ground. It's ironic that so many
people dislike being 75 when everyone wants to get there and loves being there.
For too many, when they talk of this age, they talk of being in the "autumn of
life." For them it is a metaphor for browning, antiquating, lessening,
declining, dulling, decaying, and dying; they mean "past your prime," revealed
by sagging eyelids, sagging turkey necks, sagging skin, sagging muscles,
sagging clothes, and sagging other stuff; their images for this time of life
are canes, walkers, wheel chairs, rocking chairs.
But, in my favor, research shows that there is no such thing as "prime
of life," when we're best at everything or most things. In fact, the findings
reveal that one's zest for life actually tends to increase with age. Ain't
that the truth! I'm no antique. For me, 75 is just a number that is slipped
between 74 and 76 during which I feast on this feast day, actually sinfully
gorge myself, on Susie's delectable cake. For me, this day, or any day, is a
wonderful "now" day if for no other reason than I made it to this day and is
presently the only one I have. You see, having survived cancer and a massive
cerebral hemorrhage, I don't play the feeble wishing and empty hopeful "some
day" game. I live a real "this day," each and every day I have. And, I've
found, with the latest scientific research bearing me out, that to keep
flexible at this age, for my whole well-being I must do three things:
exercise, exercise, exercise. I must physically exercise and keep my muscles
limber, mentally study and keep my intellect ablaze, and emotionally love and
keep my soul joyful. They are the ingredients in my concocted "elixir of
youth." In fact, having taken a couple medical life-style surveys coming out
of these studies, I have a "heart age" of a robust 60 year old, a spry spirit
of a 20 year old, and a calculated life expectancy of that will make me a
centenarian.
Anyway, I do not see "autumn of life" as a metaphor for wilting.
Seeing this period of my life as a beautifully colored time of spreading and
sowing seeds of future growth, I've been hearing the voices of Confucius, John
Dewey, and Socrates whispering in my ears: Confucius whispered "By three
methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by
imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest;"
Dewey murmured, "We do not learn from experience. We learn from reflecting on
experience." And, in a hushed tone, the Socrates said, "The unexamined life
not worthing living." Who am I to argue with such men of stature.
Reflection, reflection, reflection; go deeper into the roots of who it now
means to be "me;" go still deeper and be mindful of who I can become. Without
reflection "is" is just to be; but, with reflection, "is" is to live, and that
is holy.
I have come to believe over the last two and a half decades that true
peace on earth is a healthy inner serenity at every step. I've learned that as
I reflect back on life, like a mirror, life reflects back on me. Confucius,
Dewey, and Socrates were right. Only when your entire life is founded upon
exploration, only when you're as comfortable in the mystery and unknown that
accompany change and growth as you are with certainty, only when you can be
open to that change and embrace new things with the ease and constancy of
breathing, only then will you have met life's personal and professional
challenges. So, I am looking back on this year that I turn 75, reviewing and
reflecting upon regrets and gratitudes, upon and accomplishments, upon
upheavals and serenities, upon sadnesses and joys. For what purpose? Well,
William Wordsworth beautifully tells us: "What we love, others will love, and
we will show them how.” Thinking how I will choose to live in the coming year,
and thinking about the seeds I which to sow, I think I'll reflect on some what
I have learned in the passing years, and will continue to learn in the coming
years:
• I've learned that I only wear one hat; that whatever be my values,
like it or not, want to or not, I cannot leave them at the threshold of the
classroom, or at any door for that matter. For, as Jon-Kabat Zinn said,
"Wherever I go, there I am;"
• I've learned that we each must live with and according to a
persistent but gentle faith, hope, and love;
• I've learned to be enriched by the authentic, unique, and different;
I find an uncreative, unimaginative, uninteresting, and a flatness in bland,
plastic, unnatural labeling, stereotyping, categorizing, and generalizing.
• I've learned that Andy Rooney was right: if you smile when no one is
around, you really mean it; if you smile, all you'll see are smiles around
you; if you sneer, all you'll see--if you see at all--are sneers around you;
• I've learned that I have to be more underwhelmed by technology and
more overwhelmed by compassion;
• I've learned, as both religions and social sciences have shown, that
one of the great determinante of happiness is serving and doing good to others;
• I've learned that the world is a much more beautiful place when I
choose to be beautiful myself;
• I've learned our lives are made up of our days; so, how we live our
lives depends on how we live each of our todays; if we wait for tomorrow, we'll
always be a day away;
• I've learned that just because a situation or person is negative
doesn't mean I have to respond negatively;
• I've learned not to use seriousness as a battering ram against fun,
laughter, smiling, and joy. I can, I should, enjoy "serious fun and play;"
• I've learned that too often we value only past and present work, and
ignore unique potential;
• I've learned that as my faith in myself is strengthen I will have
less need to control things and will be stronger against those who would
control me;
• I've learned that an inner peace is an energy arouser and
strengthener;
• I've learned that you don't have to be loud and obvious to be
enthusiastic;
• I've learned to grow slowly taking leaps of small steps;
• I've learned that action speaks louder than volume;
• I've learned that my purpose is to make this world a better place,
not to better my resume;
• I've learned, especially having had cancer and surviving a cerebral
hemorrahage, that there's nothing gained by whining, that you can't build
anything positive with lamenting negative;
• I've learned from having had those two afflictions that that the
greatest sin we can commit is not to unwrap and use the gift offer by the
present;
• I've learned that blame and responsibility are not synonyms;
• I've learned that kindness is more important than cleverness;
• I've learned that the more I love doing what I'm doing, the less I
call it work;
• I've learned that happiness comes from a gratitude of what I have,
not from striving to attain what I don't have;
• I've learned to be kind whenever possible, and that it is always
possible;
• I've learned it's dumb to carry a grudge, for the longer you carry
one, the heavier it gets;
• I've learned that great ideas, good intentions, vast visions that are
not put into action shed as much light as unlit candles;
• I've learned that cynicism and enthusiasm are both contagious;
• I've learned that cynicism makes things worse and enthusiasm makes
things better;
• I've learned I can be as happy or sad as I am choose and am willing
to be;
• I've learned I can live any life I choose to live;
• I've learned to see what people do far more than what they say;
• I've learned that it takes a long time for anything to happen
overnight;
• I've learned that the best foundation for anyone is good character;
• I've learned that the greatest gift I have to give to anyone is not
my knowledge, it's my time and attention;
• I've learned that nothing has meaning unless it has an inner meaning;
• I've learned to respect, not just tolerate;
• I've learned, the second most important of all things, that Leo
Buscaglia was right on the mark when he said, "Too often we underestimate the
power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment,
or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life
around;"
• And finally, and THE most important, I've learned that the best
things I've done in my life have nothing to do with my resume; they are to be a
loving dad and father-in-law to my two sons and their lovely wives, a doting
grandpa to my three grand-munchkins, and a devoted romancer of my Susie.
Now, many of you may think, since I haven't said a word about teaching
or education, that all this has nothing to do with teaching and education. Ah,
but it has everything to do with teaching and education. As I always have said,
we teach who we are; we are the perceptions we have; we are the questions we
ask. All this means that who we are is inseparable from what we feel and what
we do. All this means is that teaching and education are a part of life. They
are a part of our lives. They are not apart from life or apart from our lives.
The more we understand this, the more we can be empathetic to students and
ourselves. And, the more lessons we consciously can take from life, the richer
are our lives that we bring with us into the classroom, and more meaningful are
the lessons we offer.
More on that later. For now, pass the cheesecake!
Make it a good day
-Louis-
Louis Schmier
http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org
203 E. Brookwood Pl http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Valdosta, Ga 31602
(C) 229-630-0821 /\ /\ /\ /\
/\
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/ \ / \
/ \/ \_ \/ / \/
/\/ / \ /\ \
//\/\/ /\ \__/__/_/\_\/
\_/__\ \
/\"If you want to climb
mountains,\ /\
_ / \ don't practice on mole
hills" - / \_
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