Aftershock

I wrote this several years ago and, while out with friends recently, was reminded of it. I searched my blog for it. I was sure I posed it. Apparently, I wasn't ready for a potential "aftershock". The good news is that although there are a few butterflies in my stomach as I prepare to share this post, I'm secure in who I am and ready for what's to come. Yes, I realize that very few people read my blog ... but it's still a risk anytime you put yourself out there.

This is for all of you who may be living with "aftershocks". Hang in there, as they've been saying: it does get better.

AFTERSHOCK

The ground beneath your feet becomes unsteady. You feel your knees buckle. At first, your brain cannot register what is happening. You look around trying to understand, comprehend, make sense of it all. You continue to feel the violent vibrations through your entire body, your very soul. Is the whole world coming unglued or is it just your immediate surroundings? You’re so taken by surprise; it seems to last a lifetime. In actuality, it’s but mere seconds.

To those you care about and love, this can be what it feels like when you “come out”; the moment when you finally, truly accept who you are and choose to say it out loud. The simple words of “I’m gay” can have the same devastating effects as an earthquake. For some, hard work and understanding can put the pieces back together. For others, the damage is permanent.

I’ve heard many coming out stories; I have my own. What isn’t discussed is how often you’ll have to come out. It really isn’t a one time thing. Granted, these other times aren’t as grandiose as the “big one”. They are more like aftershocks: not as big and powerful but still a potential for danger.

I find myself having these aftershocks every time I’m with a new group who doesn’t know. I’m out in my life; I don’t try to hide my sexuality. I admit, I don’t walk up to people and say, “Hi, I’m Erika and I’m gay.” But I am proud of who I am. It’s taken me years to get here. Yet every time I have to come out again, I run the risk of confusion, rejection, or even violence.

I long for the time when people can just be; when we are all accepted, respected, and valued for what we bring as individuals; when gone are the hesitations before an introduction, the anxious moments before the words escape your mouth, the awkward silence afterward. From what I’ve experienced I’m left with this; I must borrow the words of the great Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “I may not get there with you...” I can only hope that “... we as a people will get to the promised land.”

You Just Never Know

We walk trough life and we make connections with people. Sometimes they are brief ... no more than fleeting eye contact as you pass someone on the street. Other times you make a much deeper connection that you know will last a life time. Yet no matter the depth nor the length of that connection, you may never know the impact you have in that person's life.

I was reminded of that recently. I only hope that I can make a difference in my students' lives. The reality is that I just don't know. But then ... out of nowhere ... I'm shown that I really did make a difference. That the impact I had was deep and lasting. That what I thought meant little, meant much, much more.

Guess it really is true ... you just never know.

Miracle on 16th Street

Like many people, I listen to my iPod ... well, technically the iPod app on my iPhone, but you get the picture ... on my walk from the train to my school. It's about a 15 minute walk through Center City. I really enjoy it, despite the early hour in the morning (before 7am) and the lateness of the evening. I secure my headphones, pump up the volume, and begin the soundtrack.

This morning, I wasn't quite myself. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I just wasn't "feeling it." As I began my journey down 16th street, a song came on that resonated with me. At first, there was something about the music that just felt right ... it somehow captured my mood. I really connected with it - so much so, that I replayed it. Then I listened to the words. And my "mood" suddenly had a voice. I was so connected, so completely in tune with this song, that I pressed the "loop" and listened to it continuously.

Each time it played, I heard something different. In the beginning, I felt kind of sad ... the words describing my mood and giving it the words I couldn't. But, after hearing more and more each time, I began to feel validated, uplifted, inspired. It was beautiful.

Just this alone is a small miracle to me. That music can fill you and connect with you on a level that goes beyond reason and understanding. Dare I call it "spiritual". Something, I'm happy to say happens with me quite often. But the even bigger miracle ... the true Miracle on 16th Street ... was that I had never heard that song before. I've been doing this walk - to and from work - since September. I've gone through my 600 plus songs a couple of times. But never this one. To add to the mystery, this song was named "Track 11". No name, no artist, no picture.

Now, some may say that I just overlooked it other times - was walking on auto-pilot and just missed it. Or that I synced my iPhone with my computer and didn't realize I uploaded more songs. (I assure you neither of these things is the case.) I'm sure there are other, more rational explanations to be rendered.

But for me, no matter the reason: whether I truly did hear it before and just didn't realize it or stopped my shuffle before I ever heard it (my son's counter) or whatever. To me, it's a miracle: the perfect song materialized at the perfect moment and touched my soul.

Miracles really do happen everyday ... we just have to open our eyes - or, sometimes, our ears.

Beyond the Limits

Just when you want to remember something, your not-so-great-anymore memory fails you. At least, that's what happens to me :)

I was searching J.R. Martinez on the Internet and stumbled onto his website. You might know him, he was this season's winner of Dancing with the Starts (yes, I'm a fan of the show). I wanted to know more about this inspirational, beautiful person.

While I was on his site, I saw a quote ... he had "Inspired Quotes" listed throughout his site. This would be where my memory failed me. There was one that talked about trying to do more that you thought possible ... if you didn't try, how would you know what you could truly do?

Now, that's not the exact quote. And, Mr. Martinez, if you happened to stumble upon this little blog, please accept my sincere apologies. I really did try to find the quote on his site. But you know how that goes: the quotes rotate and I still haven't gotten back to that one.

At any rate ... I started thinking about that one. About pushing yourself to do more ... taking on more than you can handle ... going the extra mile ... giving 110% ... etc., etc. I've been feeling a bit of that lately with the move to my new teaching position. It's been great. But a little overwhelming at times. And I just didn't know of "pushing" yourself to do more was really the way to go.

Then I read the quote. And I started thinking about it in another way. It's not that you have to give up everything in the pursue of one thing isolated thing. But, if you don't try to push past your comfort level, grow as a person and individual, challenge yourself, reach for the stars ... then, will you ever know the extend of your greatness?

I have to thank Mr. Martinez. (I'd love to call him J.R. but the reality is that I don't know him well enough. And, I guess I'm just a little old-fashioned when it comes to things like this.) Thank you for being an inspiration. Thank you for challenging yourself and doing a little show called Dancing With the Stars. Thank you for your website. Thank you for living the type of life that made me want to know more about you. And, thank you for posting inspirational quotes that make people like me think.

Commit to Holding the Door

I was on my way home. A bit discouraged to be honest. Not overwhelming sad or ready to throw in the towel. But not really "feeling it" if you know what I mean. I guess you could say I was in a funk.

Anyway, I was walking to the train. Had my headphones on as usual. Listening to music. Trying to put the day behind me. Perhaps some of you have been there. My music was up loud. I wasn't really looking at anything ... I think my head was down most of the time. Try as I may to forget, I was reliving my day: not any of the successes - and yes, there were quite a few. Just replaying over and over all the mistakes and mishaps. Where I went wrong. Things I could have done better. How I wasn't the teacher I wanted to be ... or, maybe even the teacher the kids needed me to be.

At any rate, there I was, moving along, heading for the train, down the stairs to the familiar doors.

But something rather unfamiliar happened. As I looked up, someone was holding the door for me. And I mean HOLDING THE DOOR. I wasn't really close. You know the gesture: you're practically on someone's heels and they push the door enough so it won't hit you in the face. No. This person was actually HOLDING the door. She had committed to making my life just a little easier by holding open the door for me. Even though she didn't have to.

I kid you not when I say it changed my life in that moment. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. Things really weren't so bad. I could see the successes, the achievements, the things I had done right. In that moment, I realized that it was the little things that truly mattered. You know: Rome wasn't build in a day, the journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, etc., etc. Only this time, I really believed it.

In this one, small yet significant move, this total stranger ... who I'll probably never see again (and even if I did wouldn't know it) ... helped me see the light. Little things do make a BIG difference.

So, I challenge you: commit to holding the door. You never know who you might inspire.

I Wanna Be Like Mike ... Well, sort of

No. I'm not athletic. Not in the least little bit. But I can relate ... in a very small way ... with Michael Jordan.

I wouldn't call myself a superstar - the elite of the elite like Michael was in his career. But I will say that in my teaching career, I was on top of my game. I was good at what I did and was cruising along at a nice altitude. Don't get me wrong, I still tried to find ways to improve. Was never totally satisfied with how I was doing. My motto: I was only as good a teacher as my lowest performing student. In other words, no matter how well I was doing, I knew there was so much more I still needed to do.

Enter Mike. Three consecutive championships. World recognition. Iconic celebrity status. He had it all. So what did he do? He walked away from that game he so identified with and took up something completely different: baseball. He followed his heart and pursued his dream of becoming a baseball player.

I too had a dream. And, due to circumstances beyond my control - beyond the control of many to be totally honest - I wasn't living it. I'm passionate about learning and creativity and education and children. I had a choice. I could stay where I was comfortable ... continuing cruising and being "on my game". Or I could take a risk. Step away from the familiar and pursue my passion.

This is where Mike and I connect. My journey took me to unfamiliar territory. I'm still teaching - similar to Mike still being an athlete. But out of my comfort zone. There are moments when I feel confident and others where I feel lost. One minute I'm soaring high - the next I'm plummeting into the abyss. I've got it all together and I'm falling apart at the seams. And I'm so HAPPY.

It took guts for Michael Jordan to put himself out there like he did. I'm not going to debate his motives; I'm simply admiring what he dared to do. And, now, I can say I followed in his footsteps just a bit.

Things are going better now. And I'm growing in ways I would have never imagined. But, had I not stepped out on that leap of faith, if I hadn't been willing to fail, if I hadn't tried to "be like Mike", I may have never gotten to this point. I urge you to do push yourself, to dare to dream, to dare to grow. In essence: to be like Mike.

Enjoy Life's Journey

I've just come back from traveling to New Zealand. An amazing, mystical, beautiful, awe-inspiring place. But that's for another post.

One of the incredible things that came out of visiting New Zealand was the people I met. One of which gave me the title to this post: Enjoy Life's Journey.

How many of us do just that? Enjoy Life's Journey? How many of us even consider life as a "Journey"?

I'm so happy I went on this trip. I'm so happy that I didn't let things get in the way. I'm happy I didn't worry about the time, or money, or if I should go. I'm happy I just accepted this wonderful opportunity to Enjoy Life's Journey.

And, so, in honor of all those who I met during this trip who took this to heart, I'd like to mention just a few.

-My friend's uncle ... the one who gave me the saying. He has what is called a "life style" property where he has a deer farm. He does this not for profit. Or to feed his family. He does it just because he enjoys it.

-The man I met while trying to hike a glacier. Well ... he was successfully hiking. I was failing. Trying ... but failing nonetheless. He waited for me and kept me company for a while. In striking up a conversation, I found out that he had just gotten married. He and his wife decided to take a year off and travel ... while they could still enjoy it.

-Our bus driver whose family decided to keep the Maori culture alive by creating a pre-European Maori village and sharing their culture with people like me. He kept us entertained by translating Kia Ora in about 60 different languages using a fairly good, if not stereo typical, accent for each. (You should have heard his "sufer-dude" American accent!) He also sang "The Wheels of the Bus" while driving round and round ... and round and round ... the roundabout.

-My friend's father. Although his home had a totally spectacular view, he built an amazing, self-enclosed, mini rainforest. Just because.

And there were more. So many, many more. I consider them all teachers. And I'm so thankful for the lessons they taught me.

Now, I'm passing the lesson onto you. As said so simply and beautifully: Enjoy Life's Journey.