One Wild and Precious Life

This week brought figurative and literal storms my way.  One of the promises that I made to myself when I decided to create this blog was that it was not going to share the "instagram stories" and pictures alone--that I was going to share the whole of this experience, even when it wasn't sunshine and rainbows.   So this week, you get some of that.  As a cohort, we are in what Tuckman describes as the "storming" phase of group development.  The easy way to think about it is the end of the honeymooon phase.  There's been sniping and gossiping and even some yelling and what I would describe as aggressive behavior.  Given that we've all been living together and spending pretty much all of our time together, it is not surprising that these things are happening.  But it is unpleasant and uncomfortable.  I am thankful for my years of experience that have equipped me to deal with some of the frustrations associated with this period.  But I'm not going to lie

  Photo by Ken Bryan This week felt like the beginning of reality setting in.  Last weekend we were allowed to leave our hotel compound for the 1st time since arriving--but we could only go to the beach!  This was by no means an inconvenience--I mean look at that view reflected in my sunnies! It felt so good to relax, rest, and recharge on the white sand and the warm, clear water.  I had a moment while on the beach:  "I live here now."   Had a return trip to the beach on Sunday, which required us to walk as the shuttle does not run on Sunday.  The walk down was fine--but up was another story.  I am not being hyperbolic when I say that the hills here make the hills in Seattle look like nothing!!  But it was well worth the effort!  The reality of what I'm going to be doing also set in a bit more this week as our training intensified.  We had several excellent sessions on how to teach reading and the science of teaching reading!!!  The researcher-professor in me was OVER THE

  I am writing this as we approach the end of our first week of pre-service training (PST).  I’ve included a picture here of my cohort as we arrived on St. Lucia.  Notice how I’ve already started talking in terms of “we”—I am shocked by how quickly we have coalesced as a group and how deeply connected I feel to these people who I have known for less than a week.  In reality, we spend A LOT of time together.  We’re together all day in training sessions, we eat all our meals together, and I have a roommate for the 1 st time in a very long time (my roommate is amazing, BTW).  This week has been a little unusual in terms of living situation because Peace Corps is housing us at a hotel for the 1 st four weeks.   We haven’t been able to leave the compound all week but will be able to leave starting this weekend (we needed to get some training under our belts 1 st ).   This actually brings me to an important point—you’ll notice that I’m not giving any specifics about where I’m located.   Th

 I have been thinking a lot about impermanence over the last couple of weeks.   Buddhist teachers like Thich Nhat Hanh remind us that its our want for things to be permanent that makes us suffer, not impermanence.   The semester came to a close last week.  The last couple weeks were an even more hectic end-of-the-semester push than usual; in addition to finishing up my 3 classes, I was also trying to pick away at the packing and work my way through the online work/courses for the Peace Corps.  Fun fact: hurricane season starts today!   It has also been a time filled with saying goodbye.  And while I plan on returning to this place after my service, last week the impermanence of everything hit me like a ton of bricks (on multiple occasions, lol).  But here's the funny thing about impermanence--those feelings of sadness and loss are also impermanent.  I have been filled with gratitude for my mindfulness practices that have helped me stay in the present moment and truly live in the ex