last reflection and good bye

I wrote this slice last night. Today is a workshop and travel home and I wasn’t sure whether I would have any energy or time to write tonight. I am in the hotel lobby posting this final slice of SOLSC before I check out and go to the workshop. I decided to finish with the same reflection structure as the previous weeks. 

I am sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Helsinki, Finland. It’s Saturday evening at seven o’clock and I am ready for sleep. During the workshop today, we spent time exploring the new program standards and practices, delving deeper into some of the enhancements, and updating our school’s action plan. The workshop finished at five, I read some slices and left comments, went for a walk to the marina, ate halloumi salad and falafel in a shopping centre next to the hotel, returned to the hotel room, took a bath, and my body and mind are craving some rest. Tonight, we have to turn the clock forward, what means an hour less sleep. Tomorrow morning, we will have two more sessions before lunch and my boat leaves at four thirty. I miss my home, my bed. 

I celebrate the end of the month-long writing challenge. I celebrate that I wrote every single day, thirty-one consecutive days. I was a bit worried about the end of this week, not sure how much time I would have to spare nor how the internet might be. The internet in the hotel isn’t the best, so in the evening I write in a word document, and during the first break I post and write the three comments. Today I commented a bit more in the hotel lobby where the wi-fi seems to work better. 

I did not have a plan when I started this challenge. At some point, I took photos of some post cards I thought I would use for an inspiration. I used two. Something was left unwritten. I also took photos of my bedside table and my bookshelves. These slices didn’t happen either. I bookmarked some slices form others as inspiration. They will wait for the future. This week I knew three slices I wanted to write – my birthday slice, right now format, and the nine-year reflection. How the turned out was a surprise for me too. I wrote weekly reflections and using the same format made writing easier on these days. 

I am thankful from the bottom of my heart for every person who read my slices and left a comment. 

Wishing you all continuous inspiration and hope to see you at Two Writing Teachers blog on Thursday at the SOL gathering.

Beautiful strangers

Far away friends

Writing companions

Kind readers

You’ve been generous

Good-bye, my dears

Stay well

We’ll meet again

Words bond us

9 things I have learned in 9 years of SOLSC

Inspired by Brain Pickings and Lisa Keeler and Elizabeth Ellington

Blank page need not to discourage. Blank page is scary. You imagine what there could be, and then you fear how you can’t do what you set out to write, and this makes you feel that you shouldn’t even start. Blank page appears threateningly huge. You think that there aren’t enough words to fill even quarter of the page. Blank page stares at you with intensity, almost as if saying “I dare you!” I can’t tell you how many times I have had the staring contest with my laptop screen and it has won. It seems so much easier to close the page and sweep the floor instead. Blank page doesn’t care whether you write or not. Blank page threat is an optical illusion. Blank page has no power at all. It’s all in your head. As soon as you make a mark on the page you are the winner. 

It's good to have some go-to formats. Slice of Life in ideal is a short, detailed narrative. The purpose of the challenge isn’t to collect only narratives. It’s about writing, writing daily. If the narrative doesn’t feel right, or ideas are stuck, then it is fine to write differently, to use some structures that provide safety. Every month I write a book spine poem and right now slice. 

Borrowing is great! Writing is a solitary act. You sit (insert a place) and think of what to write, how to write, and then you spend time getting the ideas from your brain to the paper or screen. On some days the two questions, what and how to write, have no answer. It feels as if you are all alone, lost and miserable. But you are not. There are so many people around you sharing their writing kindly every day, and you can always borrow from them. Go read some slices. Oh, she wrote about her grandma, I can do that. Oh, he wrote about sparrows hopping around, I could write about the crows. Oh, she wrote about her breakfast, I can too. The way people organist their texts is varied too. You are welcome to use these as inspiration.

I'll never be Neil Gaiman. I knew that from the start. I’ll never be him because the world doesn’t need two Neil Gaimans. I'll be me. I can learn from him though, and learn a lot. Like I can learn from many other spectacular authors. They are who they are because they have written for innumerable hours, producing uncountable pages of text, examining every corner of their writing territories, fine tuning their voice, mastering their writing craft, receiving honest feedback from readers and editors. The authors I admire write in a year more than I will write in a life time. I had a late start, write little by little, hop here and there, whisper and roar, occasionally mumble, stay in the safety of this lovely writing community. This is ok. I am me. This is my writing. 

There is no bar to jump over or a mould to fit in.This was a strange one for me. If you grow up knowing there is good and bad writing, you can’t forget that. This is to do with the annoying little critic who keeps telling that your writing is not good enough or that you shouldn’t be writing at all. The critic convinces you of some high criteria you should meet to be eligible to share your writing with others. Yes, if you are writing a proposal, or a final paper, or a massive report to keep your business going, yes, you have to follow rules and expectations and do it to the highest level possible. Personal writing for fun in order to collect snippets of your life provides lot of space for writing any which way. There is no right or wrong, no committee to judge you, no high stakes. Hush the critic and write on.

The number of comments is not reflection on the quality of writing. Knowing that someone read is fuel for writing enthusiasm. When people leave comments, you know you have made a connection with others. The responses tickle the self-esteem. Sometimes you may write a post that you yourself feel to be spot on, the best piece you have ever written, finally something almost perfect. The next day you go and find that only two people read it. The logical conclusion would be that “I guess it wasn’t that good after all.” Not true. This just happened to be the day when people were busy – taking care of their sick kid, planning for conferences, finishing their last writing for a course, getting a new kitchen sink, hosting nieces and nephews, or going to a theatre. Or they were exhausted. We all have those days. We can barely get two sentences written ourselves and then meet the minimal three comment requirement. Sometimes your best posts might not have many reader but you still can feel happy and proud for writing them.

A writing challenge expects some adjustments in everyday life. Few first years I tried to add writing to everything else that already was in my life. I felt overwhelmed. Now I know that March is a month when I will let some things go. Rotated neglect is the term I learned. First goes the social media, then the reading lessens, and in my case also exercising reaches a low level. I am not upset about it. The priorities shifted for a month and this is understandable. 

It's ok to write about the same thing over and over.This one took me some time to understand. Even though the definition of Slice of Life calls for ordinary I felt I needed to include something special, and always look for something new that I hadn’t written about before. When you live your life, things you value and like and enjoy are there all the time. Why wouldn’t you write about them? I have no problem including my family, books and tea in my slices. This repeated writing celebrates your life, keeps you grounded, and shows who you are. For some people, the recurring things might be issues that they are trying to make sense of, or a way to hold on to some memories, or a search for their identity and place in the world. 

You get better at writing by writing. It is such an obvious statement, but when you think you can’t write, you don’t write, and then the statement makes little sense, and is of little help. Only when words appear on the page there is some hope for improvement. The writing can be very short at first. And it not need to be wonderful. When you start the writing may feel boring, ordinary, even bad. As long as the words keep coming at some point there will be a piece of text that sounds ok, and then another piece that feels good. From these little successes, you get a bit more boldness to experiment more, to write more, to learn more. It may take time though until you feel that you can write. And it does not mean that from some point on all the writing would be amazing. There will be improvement. On some days, you will be surprised to read your text and realise how much wrote, how quickly you wrote, and how well the words cooperated. Writing does become easier. 

Reflection form last year.

Right Now

I wrote this slice on Thursday evening, using one of my go-to-formats. I revised it just so slightly this morning in a hotel room after breakfast and before going to a PYP workshop. 


Right now I am

::sitting on a boat on my way from Tallinn to Helsinki. A place add to a list of places where I have written, starting from the obvious like my sofa in the living room, or my bed in the bedroom, or a desk at school, or an armchair in school library, or a garden in a summer house, following with other places like a bookstore, a cafe, a hotel, a train, a car ( hubby driving), an airport, a plane, and now a port and a boat.

::watching how the sun shades the old church towers and modern skyscrapers with golden hue as we leave Tallinn behind and say goodbye to the day


::sensing the rocking of the boat with the whole body


::drinking tea (You didn’t see this coming, did you?)


::listening to a string of announcements in four different languages (Finnish, Swedish, Estonian, and English) 


::finding out what to do in case of an emergency


::hearing which bands will play in different bars


::feeling thankful that the free flow student led conferences went smoothly


::appreciating that all my homeroom parents took the time to come, listened how their children shared their learning, and participated in the activities the students had planned


::looking forward to reading many pages of a new book - J.M. Coetzee Elisabeth Costello 


::sneezing like crazy, likely the combination of a carpeted floor and air conditioning triggered a dust allergy attack, or I might be coming down with a cold, the spring weather can be sneaky


::wondering how it is possible that a large boat has moved in such a short time from the port to the open sea while the sun has settled equally fast to rest behind the horizon


::doubting that I will get any reading done now that one band started playing and the music blasts from the loudspeakers


::admiring a brave grey haired couple who headed to the dance floor with the first notes and is jiving with enthusiasm and joy


::realising that it is going to be an evening of perfect dance music without a hubby to dance with


::tapping my foot under the table picturing the last dance lesson on Monday where my hubby and I jived


::remembering with fondness the lovely dinner my hubby and I had yesterday evening in a small restaurant owned by.a young couple who cooked in a small open kitchen and served the food with love and smiles


::missing my family already


::reassuring myself that Sunday will arrive fast and I’ll be back home in no time


::worrying that I. might not have enough brain power and energy to fully take in the programme enhancement information during two and half day PYP workshop.


::deciding there’s no point in thinking of what might or might not be


::leaning back and relaxing in the chair

::sending you hugs


::wishing you plenty of ideas and word to write one more slice.


Previous Right Now posts

one happy moment

Yesterday after school I had little time to go and buy myself a new pair of shoes. The heel of my spring street shoes had come loose in the morning, I had to wear winter boots, and with a dinner in the afternoon and a trip to Helsinki the next day, the window for shoe shopping was abut forty five minutes. It would make sense to have more pair of shoes but shopping for them is often a pain and buying even one pair is an achievement for me.
I galloped off school with a bank card and phone in my pocket. I left the bag at school, so the weight of it wouldn't slow me down.
Half way to the shoe shop I met a parent of a preschool students and we politely chatted about the student-led conferences happening today.
I had to wait behind a red light.
I continued walking as fast as I could towards my destination.
In the bus stop I spotted a tall and lean young woman with long blond hair, in a brown leather jacket and blue jeans, reading on her phone. I would have recognised this woman even if I had seen a fraction of her. This was my oldest daughter who lives in town. I slowed down and stood shoulder to shoulder to her, or almost, because I am shorter than her.
She lifted her eyes, smiled in surprise and then gave me a tight hug, "Happy Birthday! What are you doing here?"
"I broke my shoes and have to buy a new pair right now, because dad and I will have dinner later, and tomorrow I leave to Helsinki. What are you doing here?" I gave her a quick account.
"Coming form work, going to dance lesson. And here comes my bus. It was good to see you. Bye!" and off she went.
I continued to the shoe shop, entered, scanned the room, found one ok pair, tried on, got a bigger number, paid, and came out. In and out in less then ten minutes. The whole trip done in thirty minutes.
New shoes are good, but the short encounter was the best moment of the day, a beautiful happy unexpected birthday present for me.

47

I have my forty-seventh birthday today.

Old is a relative term. My dad who is 85 finds me to be very young. My teenager believes I am ancient, born last century, too old to understand anything. I am older than my sister and younger than my husband. In the dance sport world thirty-five is considered a senior.

I am not scared of my new age. Thirty was depressing for me. I cried for the lost youth. Forty was nothing. First child becoming an adult was stepping over a red getting older line. A doctor recommending reading glasses as age-related difficulties sounded like an offence to me. Getting a tooth pulled out recently was like reaching a point of no return. I have some wrinkles. No grey hair. I am more flexible than my three daughters. And I can dance: cha-cha, foxtrot, quickstep, samba, rhumba, tango, and waltz. Dancing makes me feel young. I ice-skate at least once a year and moving on ice makes me feel as giddy as a child. So does swinging and swimming.

When I woke up this morning I did not feel much different than last night. It's Wednesday. I have had my first cup of tea today. I had a boiled egg and oatmeal porridge with some black current jam for breakfast. My hubby drove me to town. The air is crisp. The sun shines brightly and friendly. My students went to French and I have the moment to post this slice, most of which I wrote before coming to school. I have received many hugs. I am healthy and in a good mood. I appreciate all the wonderful people I have in my life, a job that I love, the opportunities to learn, and the "my time" that has increased now that my kids have grown.

It's going to be a good day, and a wonderful year.

Four cups - a gift from my sister. 

borrowed words from comments

I borrowed phrases from the different comments from the March SOLSC slices that my dear readers have left for me. Reading them again was uplifting and heart-warming. The amount of care and thinking and support shows what a wonderful community we have here. Choosing, arranging, and rearranging the phrases took some time. This is how the words ended up today. On a different day they might have lined up differently. Thank you for your words, dear slicers!

-----------------------------------

I am still figuring out who I am.

I have everything I need,

and most of what I want,

worried about keeping all the balls in the air,

hopeful for what lies ahead.

I give myself a bit of grace.       

   

There are days when I

am not sure what to write,

have too much to say, 

have nothing to write about,

start without a clue,

feel daunted at times,

intrigued to write.

I'm wondering even now

what I will write this evening

I don't want my words to be wasteful or empty. 

We are not alone in this struggle.

                   

It takes courage

to sit down to write

capturing a moment in your life.

The words, but they do seem to come,

the right mix of detail. 

Each word we put down 

leads us to another, 

and another.

Life almost always offers up some inspiration,

experiences to be cherished,

sprouting more slices in the future. 

                

We are friends, connected through our writing.                  

Perhaps we could even meet. 

I wish I could just walk over 

and sit having tea with you. 

Tea with friends is always a great idea!

I'm glad you chose to write.

A story that's not shared doesn't exist. 

Here's to finishing strong!

Breathe in, breathe out

At 7:55 a.m. I had already talked to the director, shared a google doc, reserved a table at a restaurant, printed out two tasks for the students, sorted some papers, used the accounting app to scan in two receipts, written a schedule on the board, and sent three emails.
I closed my laptop and walked to the next classroom.
The mindfulness teacher had set few chairs in a circle.
On Mondays it is hard to predict how many teachers would show up. We always have more participants on Thursdays. On Mondays it seems that people are too busy getting ready for the week. In order to attend the short practice I always drive on Mondays and arrive at school early. This way I can get things done and still join the gathering.
Three more colleagues arrived, we sat down, feet on the floor, back straight, shoulders relaxed, eyes closed, and let the teacher's voice direct us.
Even though there was noise in the hallways, and my mind drifted to the day ahead, I was able to notice when my mind wondered, refocus on the body parts the teacher asked us to focus on, and returned to my breath. Always returning to the breath. The anchor.
After the productive early morning, after the fifteen minutes of mindfulness, I was ready for the day.
Breathe in, my dears, breathe out. Especially when you feel busy.

third reflection

Another week of writing behind. I am using the same format for my reflection as on week one and in mid challenge.

----------------------------------------

I am sitting on my living room sofa. My stomach is full, more full than necessary; of variety of cheese, serrano and smoked ham, salmon broccoli quiche, ham and cheese puff pastry rolls, strawberries and blueberries, grapes and roasted nuts, pomelo and melon, chocolate cake and lemon poppy seed sponge cake, apple juice and sencha goji berry tea. The dishwasher is taking care of all the plates and cups and teaspoons that my guests used today. We had an early birthday celebration. Next week I'm away on a conference and this Sunday seemed the best time to get together. The guests are gone. Mom and dad and little nephew went in a car with my sister. My middle daughter, my older nephew, cousin and her daughter went on a train. The oldest daughter decided to stay for one more night. The youngest discovered that she has some Russian to practice. And my dear hubby is eating one more piece of chocolate cake with cherries and whipped cream. Sweet life. 

I celebrate that I wrote every day this week. On Monday I had a dance lesson after school, On Tuesday and Wednesday I drove straight home from school, on Thursday I met with some colleagues in a book club to discuss"Their Eyes Were Watching God", on Friday after a teacher workshop I came home and was ready to crash already before eight o'clock, but I didn't because I was determined to write. I made sure I slept enough this week. I read for the book club and for the Literature Circle, some poetry and many slices. Since I drove on all the days, I moved less than I wished. I remind myself that this is temporary. I'll get back to my regular routine after the writing challenge is over. 

Last week I was prepared, writing in the evening, posting during the day. This week I left the writing for the evening and it was much harder. Several times I had the "I don't know what to write" moment. I noticed others had reached the same spot, yet everyone wrote something. I knew I could do it too. Even though the writing was less slice-like and more random I felt good because the words appeared. Other slices gave me inspiration. I am happy that I wrote my tea slice. This one had been on my mind for some time but I could't find a structure for it until I read Jaana's slice. 

I am sincerely happy that people pop by my blog and leave comments. Especially this week, when writing feels harder, the comments give the little nudge to get over the hump. 

Seven more days! We can do it! Write a word, then another, and then one more. Write a sentence. And when the challenge is over we'll probably find that we have so much more to say. 

It's always tea-time

Jaana invited to drink coffee If we were having coffee, and so did Tammy Weekend Coffee Share.

Their posts sparked an inspiration to write my tea slice.

Lets' drink some tea. We could meet in my classroom. I have a drawer with a tea selection - tea bags and loose leaf tea to choose from - one black tea, some fruit infusions, several green teas with different flavours, and milky oolong. Some years ago I always had a bar of chocolate in my drawer for stressful moments. I learned that taking a pause to drink tea during a day kept me calmer and happier than the chocolate consolation that made me happy on the spot but caused some guilt later. I still eat chocolate just not as often and not as much as I used to. I drink at least two cups of tea at school. We could sit on the teachers' lounge sofa and listen to the chat about puppies, and knitting yarn, and old time movies, and we can join in if we wish and laugh along when the talk goes in odd directions. 

Let's drink some tea. We could meet at my home. I have a drawer at home with many packages of tea I have bought from my favourite little tea shop Chado, or received as a gift from people who know me well, and four bags of tea from a tea shop in London. You can pick from green, sencha, white, oolong, black, rooibos, cactus- flavoured or not flavoured- from the drawer, or some mint leaves from the freezer. We could make the tea in a little red tea pot or in a large glass tea pot, and we could sit on the living room sofa (I have three) and talk about books. 

Let's drink some tea. We could go to London and have an afternoon tea. I have done it only once but it was a very enjoyable experience. We could go to one of the hotels that brings out the silver trays with scones and tiny cakes, more than anyone could possible eat, and the silver tea pots, and the silverware, and we would sit under the chandelier and talk about the exhibitions and bookstores that we visited.

Let's drink some tea. We could go to a tea ceremony. I have done it twice and I hope to go there again. We would sit on the pillows on the rug covered floor, in a circle of beautiful stranger, surrounded by plants and with a fire place in the corner. The hostess would pour us tea and we would drink it slowly sip by sip, cup after cup during the two hours we are there. And we wouldn't talk at all. We would be silent and peaceful and fully present in the moment. 

Let's drink tea. I wish we could go to a buddhist temple in China and drink tea with a buddhist abbot. I have done it once and it was like a dream, so unbelievable, out of my life, experience. We would drink tea, eat figs and mooncake, and listen to the wise words similar to the ones I hear more than two years ago:  

"Teachers are givers. They give selflessly without expecting receiving back. They need belief, calmness and wisdom. They create calmness with their example. Their being is what makes the environment. Students are like petals on a lotus flower, the teacher like the center of the flower and compassion like the sun that gives light and warmth."

Lets' drink tea. We could drink tea in the countryside on a summer day. Pick some fresh mint leaves and watch them swirl in the hot water. We could take our cups and walk to the seashore, sit on the rocks and watch the sun glisten on the surface of the calm sea. Or we could stay in the garden and watch the grass grow. We would have all the time of the world - no hurry, no schedule, no to-do list. 

“It's always tea-time.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland Art by Made Balbat

Who?

Who agreed to give a full day workshop to teachers on Friday, in between two weekends of PD conferences, student-led conferences coming in a week, and every single day filled with writing in March?
I did.
I said "yes" last spring when this year's March seemed so far away and the calendar empty. The workshop went well. The teachers were a bit sceptical, coming form a rather traditional school and because their principal requested the workshop, but after touring our school, seeing something completely different, and after my invitation to be open-minded and playful, they slowly melted.

Who kept opening and closing the laptop without writing a word, struggling to come up with anything to write, yet determined not to give up?
I did.
I know I am not alone. Many, if not all, participants meet a blank page day. It could be either that there is too much to choose form, or that the energy level is close to zero. For me, today, it is the utter tiredness that took over. I was already in my PJs before eight o'clock. I'll try to keep my eyes open a little longer.

Who got distracted while writing a slice today?
I did.
Good distractions. Youngest daughter came home fro a friend's place. Hubby came home from work. Middle daughter came home from university.

Train or car?

On some mornings I can't decide whether to drive a car or to take a train to go to work.
I may walk out of my home and even when I reach the car not to be certain I will sit in it since the train station is only five minutes away. Or it might happen that I plan to go to the train but I find myself sitting behind the wheel.

The car is great - I go when I want, arrive at school early before the students and get some work done, and when I leave right after the school day is over, I get home even before the train leaves the station in the city. About forty minute drive. The afternoon feels long.
But driving can be stressful, especially in snow or strong wind or in the dark or all of the above. When I drive home, I move less. It's unlikely I will leave the home again. More likely I find myself sitting on a sofa.
Then again, on a rainy day the car is warm and dry and it takes me form door to door. And I can go to opera or ballet in the evening and know I can drive home after the last train has left.

The train is great - I can sit comfortably and not worry about the traffic, speed or signs. I can take a nap or read or watch out of the window or all of the above. Can you imagine how much reading I get done when the train ride is forty minutes long? Since the train station is away from the school I can be sure I get more than 10 000 steps. Health benefit. Plus the train is environment friendly.
But the trains go on certain times. I get home an hour and half after the school finishes. If I miss a train I have to wait and I might get hungry and then I need to eat something, better something good, perhaps in a cafe, creating unexpected expense. There are two bookshops, a chocolate shop and a tea shop on my way to the station. Hard to resist temptations. I often end up buying books or chocolate or tea or all of the above. Not planned purchases.
Then again, when I choose the train and don't rush, I can visit an art or a photo exhibitions or both, and this makes me happy.

Can you see how the the choice is not black and white, one better than the other?
Today I drove.
Tomorrow. I'll decide in the morning.

thoughts that follow reading slices

The core of a month long writing challenge is to write daily. This is given. Surprisingly, the reading is equally essential every day. We might as well say that this is a writing and reading challenge. You have your own snippets to write, you have made choices of the topic and the structures and the emotions, you are fully in your life and words. Then you go and read what others write and suddenly you are in the whirlwind of so many worlds and lives and stories, and the mind takes on a super speed to jump between the different thoughts, and the emotions climb and slide and twirl and sometimes turn into knots.

Today's post is an example of the thinking going on in my head as I read slices.

I read this poem about a blank slate of a day ahead. I read it on a Sunday morning before heading to an airport after a two day conference. Busy weekend. I know that this weekend and the next are going to be busy too. Unplanned, quiet, relaxing - I can't wait for a day like this. Don't get me wrong - I love that my life is rich with learning and meetings and people, and that I sometimes get to travel and give workshops or participate in workshops, but in the midst of all this I need the quiet, unplanned and relaxing. It will come. If I can't take a day, I take some moments.  (blog All Things Purple)

Then I read this slice about students taking action, and thought, I am so self absorbed, followed by, now I'm not kind to myself, followed by worrying whether there is any hope for the future or is all going down hill, and  then thinking of Factfulness and Abundance and  returning to the belief that as educator we are growing the change makers and future leaders who are wiser and kinder than the previous generations have been. (Carol's blog Beyond Literacy Link)

After that I read this post about finding inspiration. The slice included photos of Linda Urban's notebook pages with texts and sketches, and mentioned Loree Griffin Burns' copious notes, interviews, research, recordings and photos.  My notebook?  Next question, please. (Beth's blog A Reading Life)

Finally the following post , a poem, shows how hard it is to choose a slice when the day and mind are filled with rich experiences. The same theme has surfaced in other slices too - a fulfilling life provides so many choices for slices that we end up not choosing. List is my go to format then. (blog On a Thought)

I shared just four slices and the thoughts I quickly captured. Each day I read more slices, have more thoughts, and write comments that require some time for thinking too. The time behind the screen adds up to quite a bit. But I can't imagine that I would only write and not read the slices. The writing and reading challenge is just for a month. The inspiration from the slices lasts much longer.

little bud of hope

Glasses, phone, and laptop packed, school bag over my shoulder, car keys and home keys in hand, scarf around the neck, coat buttoned, I turned off the lights in the hallway, unlocked the door, stepped out of the apartment, locked the door and walked down the stairs. Seemed too early to leave home. I could have slept a bit more. After the weekend away from home my body and mind were not fully rested, yet. I would have loved to have a slow day at home. Not an option. School was waiting.

I stepped outside, ready to hurry to my car, when I noticed the little beauties. A small group of snow drops curiously peeked around under a bare rosebush next to a small patch of snow.
I stopped. Breathed. Smiled.

The sign of spring promised a beautiful day.

I took the photo in the afternoon when I returned from school.

The best gift

Yesterday morning I posted from a hotel room in Poland.
When I arrived in Tallinn in the afternoon, my hubby picked me up, my youngest was with him and then we picked my middle daughter up for a train station and headed to my parent's place, my childhood home, where my parents, my sis, my two nephews and my oldest daughter were waiting already.

The welcoming hugs were followed by the fuss of getting the food on the table, the excitement of a toddler playing hide-and-seek and seek with the big cousins, the overview of what everyone did last week and planned to do in the future, the trips down the memory lane and the laughter about the misheard statements and answers to questions that were not even asked, and then the contentment of a full stomach.

"I can't tell you how happy I am that we are all together," said my father after we had finished our dinner. He sat on a sofa, his wild grey hair framing his face, glasses popped on his nose and warmth beaming from his smile.

All of us sitting around the table nodded. This is what is best in life - being together with the family. This time we got together to celebrate my dad's 85th birthday. He didn't want to have a big party, many guests nor any gifts. All he wished for was his children and grandchildren to be with him.

Mid challenge reflection

Unbelievable that we have half of the challenge done. I hope everyone is having some fun.  Last week I wrote a reflection.  I am using similar format this week. 

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I am sitting on a kingsize bed in a hotel room in Warsaw, Poland. I have returned from the final gala of a conference in an old mansion. My stomach is full, more full than necessary, of veggies and duck breast and cherry sauce and cheese and mini cakes. My feet are tired from standing and dancing, but it's better than all the sitting during the conference. My mind is swirling with questions and ideas and plans that I hope will stay there for the week starting so I can continue thinking about them, and hopefully change something along the way. My heart spills over with the joy of meeting some dear friends - a former colleague with whom we had dinner last night, and two  ladies from my literacy coach cohort and one of the instructors with whom I had lunch today, and my former director, with whom I had breakfast together on two days in a row. 

I celebrate that even though this week was super busy with each school day followed by something: a dance lesson, a writing lesson, a school board meeting, and the whole school week was followed by a trip to Poland to participate and present at the CEESA conference, I sliced every day this week. Including poetry twice this week is special. The amount of words I wrote in slices and in comments was surprisingly large. I have read, slept and exercised even less this week than the last to make space for writing. 

Knowing what the week would be like I had a plan. The plan was to prepare the slice in the evening and then post in the morning. I feel less stressed this way because the evening writing together with posting tends to take more time because I worry I might not have any ideas to write about or I don't know which idea to pick and then I stare at the screen and don't write. Does this make sense? Even though I had a plan of when to write, what to write was still a surprise to me, and even when I had planned to write short, more words appeared. I think I succeeded in capturing parts of my life, without worrying too much about word choice and structure. I was experimenting with structures other than narrative. 

I continuously appreciate everyone who visits my blog and leaves a comment.

Wishing everyone a fantastic weekend to collect ideas and energy in order to continue writing!

A view from my room. 17th floor.

The workshop went well

"Dare" is my One Little Word for this year. Having a friend who is also willing to be a risk-taker makes daring easier. When an invitation came to submit a proposal for CEESA conference Kadri, our school MYP Principal-Coordinator, suggested that we would write one together. She had presented at the conference twice in previous years. Having an experienced proposal writer and workshop speaker to write and present together with me made it easy to accept the suggestion. We crafted our proposal over several meetings. Knowing that many teachers were crafting their proposals at the same time we stayed realistic that the organisers have a pool of choices and they might not choose us.

They chose us. The proposal was accepted. We had spent time crafting the proposal, now we had to put the workshop together. Originally we were supposed to give a 20 minute speech and 90 minute workshop, so we included several elements in our proposal. Due to the high number of presenters our presentation was cut to 45 minute workshop only. This was a challenge for us. How can you fit anything meaningful into 45 minutes without just giving a speech? 

First we made a long list of everything we could include and then we chose the key elements we thought were the most important. After that we played with different possible ways we could present the information, and the ways we can engage the audience. The 45 minutes looked promising. But still super short. 

Yesterday was the day.

Our session was one of ten different workshops during the last session of the day.

We had no idea how many people might show up. Maybe none.

When we arrived in our room we discovered the room filled with airplane style rows of chairs. We laughed that we might have to start our session with instructions on how to exit the room.

The rows wouldn't do. Pushing the chairs against the wall and forming a circle seemed the best alternative. 

Ten people came. Just the right number.

We started sitting down and somehow it felt friendlier to continue presenting this way instead of standing up in front of the big screen.

The participants got to think, to sit, to walk, to listen, to talk. They were all willing to share their ideas and the session flowed warmly and naturally. 

We were aware from the start that the short time would allow only a glimpse of the whole topic, and that probably most of the people coming were already familiar with many of the ideas we shared. Our aim was that they would leave with the feeling that they were on the right track and they would be able to take away at least one thing they hadn't thought about before. Their feedback showed us that we accomplished our goal. 

When you leave a workshop with more energy than what you started with you know the workshop went well. We had plenty of energy after the session finished.

Here's introduction to our workshop form the CEESA conference website:

Here's the text so you can actually read it:

Having self-efficacy and a sense of agency are fundamental for learning and well-being throughout life and beyond classroom walls. Building this sense of agency takes a great deal on the part of the adults. How does teacher language frame the learner’s view of themselves and their agency? What are the ways to increase learner voice, choice and ownership in the learning environment? Why is it essential that the school culture supports the teacher agency and self-efficacy in order to support learner agency? What might get on a way and how to overcome the challenges?

In this presentation, teachers will hear stories and advice that invites them to look deeply into how their own mindset and practices influences their learners; helps them examine their teacher language; and provides practical tools that all support creating a classroom learning environment to help learners to have agency and 

the essentials for a trip

Early, too early for my body and mind, I have to leave home.


I knock on my daughter’s door and crack it a little. 
“Morning and good bye. I’ll go now. See you on Sunday,” I tell my daughter who barely opens one eye and peeks at me from under the blanket.
“”Mhmhmh,” comes a sleepy acknowledgement of my presence.
Long gone are the days when I woke her up to give a hug before I left to work. Now the teenager does not like her sleep interrupted in the morning. 

At this stage of her life she wishes me to be out of sight and quiet, especially quiet. In her ears i say wrong things, laugh too loud and sing completely out of tune, and probably tell her too often to wash her cup and pick up her sweaters that tend to roam around and sit on the sofas and chairs and beds in our home. She remembers my existence when she has to tell me everything that happened at school, mostly what was unfair, stupid or funny; wishes her hair braided in a fancier way; wants to have a sleepover with friends; or feels sick and needs me to sit next to her on her bed. She is willing to be seen with me when we go shopping, theatre, or cafe. In the mornings it's better to leave her alone

I close her door, walk to the clothes rack, and put on my black winter coat. I stand in the hallway with a handbag over my shoulder and a small suitcase next to me. My hubby stands with home keys and car keys in his hand, ready to open the door. 

“Do you have your ID?” hubby asks. 
“Yes.,” I nod.
“Money and a bank card?” the second question follows.
“Yes,” I nod again.
“Your boarding pass?” he asks the third question.
“Yes. Electronic one.” I nod again
"Then you have the essentials and we can go,” he picks up my suitcase.

My daughter, still half asleep, walks down the hallway and leans against the wall, "There's one more thing you always ask me before I go to a camp or a field trip. Are you taking a good mood with you?"

Yes, I have my ID, money, ticket, good mood, and her words that feel like a hug. The essentials needed for any trip.