littlecolourfulteacher

littlecolourfulteacher

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a tiny chain of events

December 31, 2018

I wasn’t going to head out today. I haven’t been sleeping properly in the heat, I am tired + feeling very introverted, and I thought I’d just have a very low-key day before NYE celebrations, which are boardgames, pizza, and wine until we all fall asleep, long before midnight.

But I got up and went for a run and picked up some extra groceries. Ran into a friend who needed to connect and it was a warm, playful, and tender conversation. I could see how much she appreciated the time and connection in her face and eyes. And the connection lifted me up and made me less tired and more open.

I thought I’d stop into my local coffee shop, where there is a lovely guy who brings me the paper and always remembers my coffee order and I, in turn, make him smile and cause his heart to flip just a little. Isn’t it extraordinary that when you feel so tender and tired, that you might still light up someone else’s world? I think that of so many people who are special to me, yet I never apply that thinking to myself. I never consider the effect I might have on others when I am tired…and it’s more than I realise.

Then over to see my Grandmamma, who is 98 years young. Walked in to hear yelling and swearing at the nurses for making her wait an hour for her assisted shower, and the nurses laughing and nudging me that she is the most feisty, spirited, entertaining and determinedly uplifting resident they have. She knows them all by name, and has given them nicknames. In the 3 months that she has been there, she rules the roost and can abuse them all soundly, as well as remembering details of their husbands, wives, children, and families. Her marbles are all there. She is unbelievable.

Home, and I realise how differently my day could have gone. Home, and ready to write, be creative, and interact with the world. Ready to engage with the day, and all the people I love.

My god-daughters will arrive soon with all the additional supplies to make dumplings and peanut-butter cookies that I don’t already have in my pantry + fridge. I’ve received a text that they are so excited to see me and cannot wait for Twister + Monopoly tonight.

My cousins just sent me a picture pavlova that will make it over, as well as my favourite Bird in Hand bubbles.

How absolutely amazing that we underestimate our place in the world, and how very vital we are.

Happy New Year to you all, much love, and take your place in the world. Even at your most tired and quiet, you are so very important. Your light may be small and tender some days, and dazzlingly bright others. That’s absolutely okay, you don’t have to be “on” all the time. But don’t wait for the perfect conditions to interact with the world. Just step forward, at your most authentic, in whatever form that you are in, love and care for your tender vulnerabilities, and allow yourself to be fully seen, appreciated, and loved.

See you in 2019.

dear darling girl….

November 11, 2018 2 Comments

Darling Girl, who aches with hope, here is what I say to you:

Fill the room with all of you. Not pretentiously, but with fullness, authenticity, and the very resonance of you. Stand still and sacred, without aggression, but without apology. Just simply being.

Speak with every ounce of who you are. All of your words in your own simple breath, not just the ones that are curated, consciously or unconsciously.

Succeed.

Sing.

Be.

Create.

Dare.

Hope.

Dream.

Be haphazardly joyful, silly, and playful, because your soul needs to breathe.

Fill every space of every moment. 

Live, without excess, but fully.

Don’t make space for something that is not there; your heart and soul will stretch when it becomes part of your life, when you need it, or indeed, when there is loss. You will stretch for both joy and pain. You will be okay.

Travel. My God, travel if you can and fill your mind and heart with new understandings which stretch you and embed you with life’s breath and fresh wisdom.

Travel, that you may experience a new angle of gratitude.

Travel, because this learning is embedded in the human spirit. The rushing need to be free, to live, to feel, to embrace.

Feel.

With every ounce of your heart, your flesh, your body. Do not hold back because you don’t feel you have earned the right, you beautiful, beautiful dear girl. Life will keep moving and you need to be a part of that. You can laugh and cry, shriek and run, without any fear that you will need to be a little more refined and quiet because you haven’t earned the right. You have. 

Being human IS your birthright. Not selfish. Human.

Don’t let that gloriously beating heart harden. 

Work hard to undo, unfurl, simplify, let go, de-clutter, and set free.

The emotional knots may be many and tightly done-up, but have faith and patience. With time and love, care and unfailing gentleness, deep compassion and courage, you will undo them all.

And your beautiful heart will keep beating freely.

Cry your tears. Feel you grief. Feed your soul. Walk, and keep walking, each step, knowing every crevice of your heart with authenticity and ownership. The shadows of your grief will never leave you. But nor will the absolute, unquenchable desire to live.

Make new meaning every day.

Change as a part of life is like pennies to the dollar, and possible every minute you breathe.

Love.

There is no other way.

There is only love. 

And my Darling Girl, I love you more than you know.

connection

November 8, 2018

I am exhausted, but grateful.

This entire week, but today especially, has been a lesson in connection. I am so grateful for my Year 11 tutor group + my gorgeous Music kiddies who continue to challenge me to think, love, care and connect more deeply. Surprising, perceptive, full of fight, scrappy, big-hearted, generous, genuine, courageously raw + absolutely alive young adults who love and challenge me, and whom I love and wholeheartedly challenge right back. I used to be gentle about this, but lately, I find I’m absolutely all in. In on the hard conversations, in on the grittiness, in on the tough love, in on the massive belly laughs, in on the beautiful poignant moments.

I think I’m doing great, then I realise how much more I can do, or how much I don’t see until the moment I do see. I realise I need to look + listen MORE, catch the moments of connection, and be courageous in my words + actions. That each day presents tiny moments for me to be aware of, often out of my comfort zone, which I can choose to engage with.

I am exhausted, but so very grateful.

The conversations have been gritty, consuming, and revealing. But the connections have been powerful + very real.

3-minute reflection: the power of language

November 4, 2018

I have been thinking a lot about nuances in language as a starting point for connection, as I’ve been reflecting on my role in caring for and mentoring my Year 11 Tutor Group.

Listening to a conversation between the incredible Brené Brown + Marie Forleo, and Brené said something to effect of:

Don’t ask someone who is in suffering to ‘call if they need anything’. They won’t call. It’s an empty sentiment designed to make us, the helper + supporter, feel better. Ask them instead: ‘What does support for you look like right now?’

And my heart did a backflip.

I realised that I had been asking my students to “call if they needed anything”. I had missed the opportunity for connection every time I said that. I needed to change my words, and therefore my intent, as the beginning point for connection.

The sheer power of language is unmistakeable.

Oh my goodness. Truly beautiful.
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

this is truly beautiful

November 4, 2018

Skills Every 18-Year-Old Should Have

A good read.

November 4, 2018

on failure + rising

October 28, 2018

“There is an extraordinary beauty to someone who has risen up through their own grit and courage, not because they are falsely buoyed up, but from a deep reservoir of faith in themselves, looking deeply and compassionately at their failures and owning all the moments, not just the good, holding their course regardless of opposition to their spirit, their very self, or their ideals, a fierce love for their vocation or craft, and a desire to be authentic which FAR overrides their fear.”

when you realise you’ve “raised” good year 12s…!

August 12, 2018

One of those days where I was totally up against it in terms of navigating, negotiating, and behaviour-managing, with my poor Year 12s walking into class after lunch with me in full-behavour-management-flight with a student.

Very quietly and respectfully did they all sneak in, dotted themselves around the classroom and quickly got to work.

After 2 minutes, a cup of tea appeared on my desk in a mug inscribed with “BADASS.”

Then, when my back was turned, a muesli bar + a handful of Minties appeared alongside it.

All of a sudden, I realised my camera was fully set-up and ready to roll for performance masterclass.

While I was looking over some Composing + Arranging issues, a message appeared on the whiteboard, “Kwokkie: Tiny Awesome Teacher! 😊

And walking to Year 8 Music, I found the downstairs classroom door covered in post-it notes with various encouraging messages of, “GO KWOKKIE!” + “SMASH IT!” + “HANG IN THERE!” + “YOU CAN DO IT!”

My Year 12 kiddies. NINJAS of little acts of kindness today. You guys totally got me over the line!

the kwokkie diaries: day 23

July 19, 2018 2 Comments

Day 23: San Francisco

“I hold my heart by the hand, together we’ll wander, endlessly.”

I love you, Mum + Dad.

My Dad gave me the sea. The salt and sting of Henley Square, the freshness, the soothing, the unrelenting storms all flecked with sand, the heavy dullness of dawn in summer. My Dad gave me this. He gave me the very edge of the sea that I may travel. He has a nomadic daughter with strong wings, but with a heart that overflows, overwhelmingly so, for home.

My Mum gave me the earth. The place that is my home. All that is wok-smelling, incense-filled, real, small details, family life at its most poignant and rushingly beautiful. All the tiny moments matter to my Mum, magnified over in joy, ache, sadness, worry, anxiety, and happiness. The small moments are her world. The big picture is wondrous to her, but she cannot live there. Her spirit is most happy with an anchor point; her family.

My beautiful parents, who are so fragile and strong, I love you so much.

Here, on the other side of the world, I think of you, and I love you with all my heart.

I am so sorry that I couldn’t give you a grandchild, or grandchildren. I have cried so much over this and every day, my heart cries. I wanted to give you grandchildren more than I wanted to have children of my own, and I dearly, dearly want children. A family. A husband. An anchor point.

But it is not written in the stars for me.

And I cry, raw tears.

But I cannot live a life in apology.

So I travel. I take flight. Glorious, uninhibited flight.

Not because I am running away, but because I am embracing. I will LIVE my life, all of it, and show you the all that I see. I will show you Montreal and San Francisco, Toronto where your son + daughter-in-law are, and the beauty of Prince Edward Island. I will show you Vancouver and Washington, and the uncut gritty beauty of New York. I will show you everything that I see, and share with you my world.

Hear me please, I will LIVE my life.

I love you both so much.

the kwokkie diaries: day 17

July 13, 2018 1 Comment

A chance catch-up with a very special Brighton old scholar who is making waves of the best sort here in New York. Hilarious that Australians can never get their act together to catch up when they live in the same city, but can do it on the other side of the world.

Such a joy to hear of all your successes + adventures, Anthony Zatorski!

#proudmamakwokkie