Two Questions

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When I taught high school English, at the end of every year, I would ask my students, “What went well that I should continue to do? What would you like to see me change?” In response, my students gave me very valuable feedback that I always used to improve learning. for the next year’s students.

Then I left the classroom to go into administration, with no end of year. The mistakes and omissions I made followed me, and I never had the sense of new beginning.

Now I realize that, in any situation, I can ask those same two questions. They are relevant for jobs, for marriage, for relationships, for volunteerism. Two simple questions to restart and refresh.

Nancy Oelklaus is the author of Journey from Head to Heart and Alphabet Meditations for Teachers. Her latest book, Simple Serenity, will be published in the first quarter of 2022.

Sweep

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When someone I love dies, I

Find something to sweep—

A driveway, a terrace—

Something usually unnoticed.

I don’t know why I sweep.

Moving the energy, maybe—

Perhaps avoiding grief,

Or controlling the things I can.

I sweep.

You write or draw it: How do you manage grief?

Nancy Oelklaus is the author of Journey from Head to Heart and Alphabet Meditations for Teachers. Her latest book, Simple Serenity, will be published in the first quarter of 2022.

Energy

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Invisible yet powerful, energy emanates from us. If we default to weak energy like resentment or blame or simple worry, we are easy prey for constant depletion.

But if we choose strong energy like acceptance or love (“the greatest of these”) we live happy, peaceful, fulfilling lives, regardless of our circumstance.

Begin this journey with awareness: What energy is driving you right now? Is it what you want?

Weeds

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Outside my office window is a rock-strewn patch that was meant to be bare. But I constantly had to weed it, even though there was a fabric weed barrier under the rocks.

One day during the pandemic, I decided to put a wildflower garden in that space. I reasoned, “If weeds can grow here, so can wildflowers.” So I mixed some seeds with potting soil and simply spread them by hand, on top of the rocks. To my delight, they grew. Then they grew some more. Then they bloomed. It’s July, and different species have been blooming since February. Not only have they given the beauty of their multi-colored flowers, but they have also attracted birds, who love the seeds.

Here’s the surprise: No weeds. On the periphery, yes, a few. But not in the heart of the garden.

There’s a lesson in this story somewhere. What do you think it is?

Desert Varnish

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When I was growing up, sharing experiences meant talking about what was bad—what someone did wrong—sharing negative judgments about ourselves and others. Someone who shared positive, uplifting experiences, as I have in the book I’m writing, would have been labeled “uppity” or “big headed” or “self-righteous.”

Recently I had to stop writing because I was drowning in the old voice of self-condemnation and limitation.

 A bit later, a friend pointed out one of Sedona’s red rocks with black areas of “desert varnish,” a patina that forms through the years and increases uniqueness. Then I realized that I could think of these old voices as my “desert varnish.” They are part of a pattern that I can notice, appreciate, and walk away from.

The truth is, my state of mind and yours are a choice. And the whole truth is, we attract what we emit. We truly can live the lives we want.

Orchid

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Over the years, I’ve had many orchids. I love them for their beauty and the long life of the flowers. After the last one has dropped, I want the plant to bloom again. I’ve tried fertilizer, cutting them back, putting them in the right light. Nothing worked.

The last orchid I bought was purple, with beautiful blooms on three stalks. Predictably, all the blooms fell off. This time, I decided to leave the orchid alone, just sitting on the corner of my bathtub. Occasionally, when I thought of it, I would water it a bit.

To my amazement, one day buds began to appear. Today the orchid is in full bloom, with many buds awaiting their opening.

Sometimes, when I leave things alone, they take care of themselves.

You write or draw it: Have you had a similar experience? What was it?

In Plain Sight

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My neighbor and I share land at the tip of the cul-de-sac. Weeds have grown, browned, and become unruly to the extent that we have agreed to do something. Clearly, the offending weedy plants are to be removed. 

The question is do we plant something in their place? Something more beautiful? We’ve thrown around several ideas—lavender, wildflowers, native grasses. 

This morning, as I looked over my own back yard, I saw a solution. Gopher weed. It’s a succulent with a beautiful yellow bloom in the spring. It’s blooming right now. Yesterday I walked among the plants and found no weeds, so that tells me it blocks out weeds. It’s easy to grow. We have plenty of excess plants that could be transplanted, watered for a short time until they get established, and then left alone.

It seems a perfect solution that was right in front of me all the time while I stretched to find a solution.

You write or draw it: When have you struggled with a decision when the solution was in front of you all the time?