On Being Present

[sun_set_bravely]

Last night I went to a Woodhull session led by Susan Ford Collins, author of the book The Joy of Success. She's a dynamic speaker, and she gave me a bounty of food for thought, but she said one thing that excites me the most.

Education comes from the Latin root "to bring out".

This is revolutionary.

(I love words. They carry around so many layers of meaning, most of which we're rarely aware of. One of my other favorite roots is Inspire -- to breathe into. I love the magical connotations of that root -- the idea of a larger being/existence/consciousness breathing ideas into you, its lips on your lips, moving breath into your body -- a divine kiss of sorts...)

I love what this root implies -- what it reveals about how the people that created this word -- how they imagined knowledge as something that is within every one of us, that only has to be drawn out, brought out. This is astonishingly beautiful to me.

I think of my teachers -- of Natalie Goldberg, and how a stranger's words have impacted my life so intensely.

I think of Deb, whose passion drew out my hunger for writing.

I think of Michael Krass, who was one of the first people to tell me that I didn't have to try to be unique, because no one has a choice in the matter -- you are unique because no one has seen exactly everything that you have seen. Your job is to be true to what you have seen, and lived.

In writing these names down, I notice I don’t have a personal relationship with any of these people anymore, yet they've educated me in powerful ways, some more powerful than even my parents, or other family members.

I want to know -- who (or what) are some of your best educators? Who in your life has seen something in you, and worked with you to bring it out into the light?


~ ~ ~
Recently, I've been overwhelmed by beauty in the City. I think it's related to my focus on living in the moment. The more I truly let myself be present in the moment, the more beauty I see around me. Last night, when I walked down Broadway, I saw so much beauty -- I didn't think I could hold it all. For a millisecond, I wanted a camera to capture it, but then I realized that I could never hold it as well as I wanted to, so I let it all go. Other people will find it. I'll try to scratch the surface with this list:

• A young woman perched on a standpipe in a corner talking on her cell phone, her feet not touching the ground


• Three big piles of glittering ice cubes, melting on the subway grate outside of a restaurant. When I stopped to look at them, I could hear them melting into the subway, gleaming like diamonds


• A bright construction light near Canal Street shining in a long puddle along the curb, shimmering atop the dark water


• A construction worker sawing a huge pipe -- the sparks flying off in clouds, his legs protected by rubber boots


• A crane lifting a big pipe out from the ground and laying it gently on the bed of a truck, like an enormous, crusted straw -- this pipe that hadn't seen the light of day in who knows how many years

And today, when I walked out of the house, the traffic was slow on DeKalb. I passed one car with a thumping bass line, then I walked past a car with "My Girl" blaring brightly. Then another, with a woman crying out the words to the song without any sense of the right notes -- she was just enjoying herself so much.
     At Ashland, the sound of a brass band wafted to me, and I stopped and the synapses connected -- Commencement. Only then did I notice the families dressed so nicely, all walking towards the white tent over the sports area on Ashland Place.
     As I stopped to look in their direction, feeling slightly sentimental, two men stopped near me, and one lit his cigarette on the end of the other's, and then they went on their way.

Everything I need to be happy right now, I have right now.

I feel very vibrant right now. I am thinking of the Richard Jackson book title Alive All Day. Alive all day. Yes.

Comments

[nickelchief.livejournal.com]

Lovely, and true.

You're going to make me miss New York.

[sun-set-bravely.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

I was actually thinking about something like that, as I wrote this. About how when I leave New York, this is what I will miss most. Don't worry -- it'll always be here.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Joe Key, 12th grade social studies seminar instructor, taught me to think critically. Phil Oliver, first year torts instructor, taught me the humor inherent in opposing views.

[sun-set-bravely.livejournal.com]

What's 'torts'?

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Torts are civil wrongs, like trespass or negligence or fraud--things you can sue over if they are done to you, even without a contract; things the law imposes a duty upon all of us not to do to one another.

i can't see new york

[freak1c.livejournal.com]

grandma, who taught me everything. how to think. how to be. how to see.

frank moretti - 'it's important to learn what you have become without having chosen it.' media awareness. not just t.v. but all of the white noise that surrounds us, what of this have we accepted without having made an active choice about it?

paul crump - (RIP) he saw a kid who had potential far beyond the stage or a light board. taught me to walk people to their doors, and etiquette. (but not spelling).

new york city - taught me how to find happiness and calm in everything. taught me how to love very simply.

Re: i can't see new york

[sun-set-bravely.livejournal.com]

Good call! Much of my post was about New York City drawing wisdom out of me, but I didn't think to name it as an educator. It deserves to be on my list about five times.