I am a member of Toastmasters International, a public speaking and leadership organization. My local club is here on Orcas Island, and meets just a few blocks from my home. I am scheduled to give a presentation this evening. Do I feel ready? Yes and no.
My chosen topic is: How to Inspire Community Education & Healing through Local Projects. My title: Learning To Make A Difference.
My lesson outline for this presentation is "Get To The Point." We have a manual of skill building presentations that we follow, and this is my third one. I accumulated many years of experience in public speaking before I was 33. I took a break for some years when I started my academic education, and then my family, in the 1990 - 1997 years. However, when my daughter, Willow, was diagnosed with diabetes at the age of 19 months, I found myself being catapulted into involvement with a small non-profit organization, assisting families with the transition period of early onset diabetes. It got me back in the public eye and serving in a community setting. This enabled me to become more comfortable in positions where I acted as a liaison between parents and their child's medical and nutritional team. This led to coordinating workshops and outreach seminars.
Interspersed in the above activities, there was the natural facilitation of little teachable moments between a parent and child, or between a child and siblings. Sometimes this included grand parents, too. Learning to navigate the routines of diabetes management without over-managing one's life has a unique learning curve for families. As the opportunities rolled into my life, they gave me the chance to put into practice what I had been learning as a hands-on, homeschooling parent. I began blending curiosity from lived experience, with what I had studied over the years in creating educational environments anywhere: from small homes to cultural centers to outdoor settings. And it continues to this day.
But tonight I wanted to say something about our potential freedom from the conditioning of our lives around schooling itself. I'm going to emphasize trust in the process of unlearning limitations and reintegrating the various forms of sensory learning that anchor meaningful knowledge. We live in an action-based culture. The conventional model of schooling emphasizes by-rote training and competition among our peers. What if we shifted our usual emphasis toward the co-creation of a kinder, deeper connection in learning? What is our educational business as a community? This is what I want to address tonight, in what I believe will be a series of presentations, developing the topic and interest further.
I have postponed my yoga studio cleaning and yoga class, to stay home with my daughter, who is in the midst of an illness. I will miss my mom-to-mom Bible study group today. There may be a chance to still attend a three hour board education meeting between 1 and 4pm this afternoon.
First, though, I need to reset my internal harmony thermostat. My 16 year old son has declared his desire for independent decision-making. He walked out of my home on Mother's day, and did not communicate with me face to face until yesterday. He was safely parked at his dad's, where he has a detached bedroom in which to hermit-ize himself as needed. This is a new experience for us both. In one chamber of my heart, the clear one, I applaud his authentic need to discover who he is in his own way. He is a remarkable person, and student, who deserves a sacred initiation into the adult responsibilities he is taking on in our society. A little bug on my heart says he doesn't need to find anyone to blame for this intrinsic need, though he started to go there. I do trust his decision. I just wanted to be informed in a way that wasn't hurtful. I appreciate his apology on the matter.
Another chamber of my heart is open to new learning. What is next in this changing relationship with my firstborn son? In the medicine wheel tradition of the First Nation Peoples, a spirituality that embraces our physical, four chambered heart, places the seat of our original medicine here. The chamber of my heart that represents strength knows that all will be well, but the fullness of another chamber is spilling over alligator tears. How fast the turnings of life occur!
Did I mention that my daughter, Willow, came down with a raging fever last night? She is 14 this month, and does 99% of her diabetes routine on her own. She is rarely ill, but when it hits like it did last night, she really struggles with surrender. Gee, I wonder if this is reflective of anyone I know right now? Sitting at my keyboard, tasting a life changing moment through salty tears, I am wondering if I will have the passion and clarity I need for my presentation later. I know I can postpone until the next meeting, and perhaps I will feel fuller for the delay? I am willing to look at that. Time has a way of chewing up our best laid plans and spitting out a whole new scenario.
My son told me yesterday that he perceived me as trying to put him in boxes. When I asked for an example, he didn't have one. Maybe a situation will emerge for both of us to use in the learning process. What I see at the moment is a young man who is getting inundated by a culture that puts people in boxes. Since "mother" so clearly represents the universe of experience when we are young, I must now be the "cause" of his angst. Well, my son, kick away the sides of those boxes with all the determination you feel. When you have discovered your path and your gifts, in your way, I will celebrate in my heart...the same heart that you used to listen to when you were growing inside and nursing at my breast. I trusted my heart to love you as you are. I must trust your heart to remember me in a kinder, truer light.
I, too, have gifts to develop and share. May we both enjoy our new found freedoms, and meet again in the field of dreams, manifested as a legacy of life long learning. Love is forever and unconditional. This I know.
