Clarity, Connection and Choosing Strong

I have been told that when I was five and not getting my way that I would hold my breath until I would pass out or my parents would blow air at my face to make me take a breath. My dad shared I would go limp, then come to breathing normally. I have always prided myself in my stubbornness, but now, as a parent, I cannot imagine how scary these moments must have been for them. I painfully remember when Josh would have a seizure being held captive by my helplessness. At first, as new parents, we found excuses for his behavior thinking a loud noice or something unclear to us must have spooked his sporadic movement. Looking through the pictures from this time we were so innocent and hopeful – never once thinking they were a signal to us there was more triggering his body to react this way. Later, after learning Menkes Disease was at the root of his body’s response, I was only able to find peace knowing the doctors had assured us he wasn’t in pain during these episodes.

Emma, when fevering, has night terrors. Like Josh’s seizures she has no choice, clarity or control in these moments. She wakes screaming and terrified of something very real in her altered reality. Nights we know she will wake in this state reminds me of the nights I laid half awake/half asleep listening to the sounds of the oxygen tank knowing my alarm would go off and I would need to be alert to administer Josh’s medication or use the suction machine so he could again continue in his slumber. We joke that my ability to sleep on cue was a gift Josh gave me, so too is the ability to be half awake while sleeping. After Josh died, my grief coupled with exhaustion led me to sleep for long periods. I never seemed to feel rested. As I found running as an outlet and connected more clearly with friends through it soon I realizing a run could be just as restorative as rest.

To say this school year has raced by is a bit of an understatement. My first year as an administrator and first year in an elementary school after 17 years in secondary education feels like training on a treadmill, but not being in control of the settings. One moment I am slowly climbing a gradual incline, the next the pace and incline crank and I find myself sprinting uphill to keep myself from flying off the track, then the settings switch and I again am able to find my stride. Daily, I have been working to ground myself remembering each day presents an opportunity to learn and grow in grace as I progress towards my goal to make each day count. I explained this to a coworker similar to an athlete’s responsibility as my friend Debra always said to “better the ball” with each opportunity one has to touch the the game ball. So too in life do I have the choice to better each moment through my connections.

In a post, @stevemagness shared “Only 8% of people stick with their New Year’s resolution” and identified “9 evidence-based rules to set goals that help instead or hinder.” Rule #4 helps me rethink about how I identify progress towards growth as it notes the need to make progress possible. As I reflect on both my personal and professional goals this year, this concept helps me evaluate the progress I have made and to adjust my perception on how I will face challenges that are yet to come as a first year administrator as well as in my personal life as a spouse, parent, sister, and daughter.

It has been two years since Mom died. I miss her guidance, her laugh, and most of all – her. I have been listening to Sally McRae’s powerfully written Choose Strong on my solo long runs. McRae notes, “Being strong wasn’t about how smooth my performance was, it was about how I responded to every setback along the course. I could choose to be strong, and still have a limp, and I could win, despite a rough journey.… I didn’t win because I had a perfectly executed race, and I didn’t win because I was better than anyone else. I won, because I chose to keep going in spite of the setbacks. I believed in myself, and I released what I couldn’t control; and I kept hope at the forefront of every step. When things got especially uncomfortable, I gave myself one choice. Choose to be strong or choose to give up.” My mom is the strongest woman I know. She taught me how to love unconditionally and how even when the cards are stacked to play your hand like it will always come out on top. She was strong and courageous and full of grace.

I had the opportunity to travel recently with a group of principals to California. I was anxious heading into the trip realizing I knew very little about the women I was traveling with and they knew little of me. We flew out on my birthday and I shared that I will forever be a youngest child who loves my birthday. The trip down was a comedy of errors, but we made the most of the day. On a layover we shared stories of pregnancy and after sharing mine, one of them asked “where is your son now?” I found myself sharing our story, the moments of joy and vulnerability when my greatest fear was childbirth as well as all the lessons I have learned of hope, grace, and grief since that first year.

The purpose of our trip was to gain “Teacher Clarity Playbook”certification which centers around the popularized statement from Brene Brown that “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.” Over the course of our time together we not only gained certification, but also a new understanding and deeper respect for one another. The time with these courageously strong women, like a long run with old friends, gave me new clarity and balance of purpose and practice. We laughed more in the four days than I think I have all year. This laughter and meaningful connections refueled me for the challenges ahead. Pausing to snap a photo of a pink crown of thorns against a California palm tree sunset, I took a breath and stood thankful for moments and memories.

Courtney noted this week “since becoming a principal you’ve become more reflective.” His observation made me aware that although I feel I have always been reflective, this year, unlike others I have found myself more conscious of the impact my choices have on those around me. I am also more aware of the moments when I have no control and as it is no longer appropriate for me to throw a tantrum, I instead have to ground myself in grace and as McRae notes “choose strong” for Josh, for Mom, for Emma and for me.