A wayward goddess on the edge of it all.......
Walking through the night, searching, for what, she does not know.....
Winds blow in hard and cold; winter at her feet......ice in her soul
Paths that cross, and cross again
Gaining ground; rocks tumbling down, slipping.....wild heart, gasping for air....
See her there? Standing in the shadows......reaching out
Striving to move, mired in; trapped
Dreams, as out of reach as the moon and stars.....
Always wandering, life, rewinding in slow motion.....
people, places, things....whirling together to become a blur........
Is it her?
I've had a lull in my writing the last week or so... just not been feeling it. I got nothing like one of my status's say on face book.
But I do... sometimes with me, it takes a good song, and a memory triggered and I'm off.
Well, two of those things happened this week. One, The sound of Music live, with Carrie Underwood, and then one of my current favorite Cd's by a local band, Aury Moore Band.
My mother was an opera singer, I believe I have mentioned this, and went to the conservatory of music in Boston. She sang her whole life. I have been around music my whole life.
I don't believe any longer that it is the things I have done in my life, or the choices I made that brought me to my current spot, I believe it was and still is the people.
More than a few on Aury's current Cd, resonate with me. Broken Promises, and prayer to name two.
We'll start with broken promises; mine have been to myself. What I dream of, where I want to be in 5 years, what I want for my loved ones, those were broken. Not being there for certain events, rites of passage in my child's and grandchild's life because of my choice. Not intentionally, but by circumstance.
For 17 years I was away from the music scene here in Seattle. I have come back on in the last three years in a different way than how I was involved so long ago. But; music is me, part of me, my motivation, my inspiration, my one true love. I feel myself being drawn back in so many different ways, and that is where "Prayer" comes in.
When do you really know, that you have arrived at your destination. I played classical piano for 14 years. I sang, danced, tap, ballet, and interpretive, and modern. Salsa, swing, and almost anything in between.
I was in a conversation with my boss yesterday. She figured out she is the creator. The marketer. I know I am capable of creating, but what.... what is my role here. I've done a lot of soul searching in the last 3 years and still don't have an answer to who I am. what I do, yes... lots of things, what I love, what I have passion about... thousands. But who am I?
It's funny, I have watched my 18 year old become a young man, on his own, with his own struggle, and trials. Facing a future that was planned, and now questioning it. What right do I have to offer advice to him, when I can't figure out myself. I wonder if he is destined to wander the way I have, questioning life, the whys, the where's the who's.
I have a 14 year old, with his own struggles, going through school by rote, his father says, to get through.... I ask, to get through to what?
How do I expect my children to know, when I don't...and then I wonder... did my mother know, do other's know... or are we all on this same path of questioning, touching happiness, sadness, loss, grief and pain, in so many different situations, yet still not knowing.
peace~
Totally off topic to my normal musings, however, this needs to be said, or written.
This is mostly in defense of my son. My 14 year old. He has always struggled with school, and academics. It's not that he is lacking in the brains department, he has no major life traumas to use as excuses to define his behavior or lack of interest. He's highly intelligent, and capable of many things in his young life.
I recently received an email communication from his teacher. Now... knowing my son, and his skills, I immediately knew what the problem was. One, he is not challenged, and two, he's been given mixed messages, and is confused as to what the guidelines for the class are or basically the class syllabus.
As I am reading the communication, I am becoming more and more horrified by what he is writing. Not about my son, but the actual language he is using in reference to my child. Nothing bad, no, he did not use foul language, but he did attack and accuse my son of a few things. Not in wording, but in context.
Un-truth, by definition, a lie.
Plagiarism, by definition, an academic standard set by Ivy League schools, based on ethics, not law. Dating to the 1800's and archaic at best.
Also, an allegation was; my son sat and stared into space for a week before starting a project.
So... how, may I ask you, does a 14 year old who still thinks in the abstract, going to be capable of understanding this? Is that not the teachers responsibility to provide a clear and realistic definition of what is expected of my child?
As this communication continues from two days ago, to now, I am stunned at the lack of education and teaching skills this teacher actually posses.
One: we are 1/2 way through the year... why am I now just being informed of my child's situation in this class room? Two, the class room syllabus was sent to me, and could have been as confusing to me as it was to my child, if I did not read it correctly. Three, the solution as of today?
Remove my child from this class at the end of the year and let him start another one in a different field in January, that has nothing to do with the class he is in now.
Needless to say, I hit the roof. Really? This is the solution our academic institute came up with? "Oh, he's struggling here", therefore, lets move him there. WOW!
So, my final email communication was not so nice, but in a nice way. I basically called the teacher out. It's his responsibility to provide an atmosphere to his students, equally, that helps them all excel. He has failed in that. It is his responsibility to notify me, prior to the end of the year, not 3 weeks, but months, that my son is failing.
The classes that were suggested for my son to transfer to? Yoga... and a few other's, however, I suggested Yoga for the teacher also, since he clearly needs to meditate on how he is teaching his students, or not teaching them. My son would out do him in this class, since clearly he is capable of sitting and staring into space for a week.
By the way, this is an art class. My son excels at art. It's inherent in his blood. He is a left side thinker, and those are the ones who make their own paths in this world, not the ones who conform. I have no doubts my son will make a name for himself, out side the academic confines of this world.
