I wrote this Sunday night on the inside cover of my crossword puzzle book while languishing in the Atlanta airport:

So, here I am in the Atlanta airport returning from three exhilarating and rewarding days at the Lily-South conference on college teaching in Greensboro, North Carolina. And, that’s an understatement. It’s 9 p.m. The place is a cacophonous mad house. No exaggeration. Flights are being cancelled; planes don’t have crews; delays are rampant; people are contorted in less than inviting seats surrounded by walls of carry ons. The gate for my flight had been changed. No seats here at the new one. I’m sitting on the floor, leaning against a pole next to the automated trash can with all these familiar and unfamiliar, expected and unexpected, dissonant and rhythmic, inviting and uninviting sounds, movements, images, and smells pulsating around me. I know; it’s a mixed metaphor. My only defense for this grammatical offense is that I’ve been here waiting, waiting, and waiting since 5:30 p.m. And, this is after I had waited, waited, and waited for three hours before that in the Greensboro airport. Having a Ph.D. doesn’t mean you always smart enough to make the best of flight connections. Now, they’ve just told us that the plane to Valdosta will likely be delayed another hour or two. I’ve already done 16 Sunday LA Times puzzles in my book! But, how many crossword puzzles can you do before you get cross-eyed? I’m tired of crossword puzzles. I am just plain tired. Well, actually, there’s nothing plain about my fatigue. My exhaustion is not from all this waiting. I’ve just spent three days of intensely passionate listening, presenting, talking, exchanging, sharing, teaching, and, above all, learning.

Popeye, the Sailor Man, said, “Youse gets out whats youse puts in.” Well, I must have put everything I had into the conference because it sucked out almost every bit of energy I have. Without fear of being accused of hyperbole, my brain is crammed; my muscles are numb; my adrenal glands are drained; but, my heart is full. Actually, I’m jotting down these words because a few minutes ago, as I got up to stretch my aching gluteus maximus that was just about maxed out, I had reached into my pocket for some change to get a Coke and had felt the soft torn piece of paper of my spiritual word for the day. Having forgotten what it was, I had taken it out, carefully had looked at it, and slowly had fondled it. It read “reflection.” Sometimes you don’t ask.

So, here I am reflecting on having spent three days in community with long time colleagues, but more importantly friends, such as Todd, Jim, Laurie, Ray, Barbara, Maggie, Bill, Linda, Jane, Scott, and Milt. I met new colleagues, and hopefully new friends, such as Michelle, Renee, Kurt, Sandy, Brian, Peter, Jane, and host of others. They’re all spiritual people, you know, whether they know it or not, and Lily-South was a spiritual experience whether its organizers and participants know it or not. Why? Because I think a spiritual person is a person who is far less godly than she or he is deeply human. These people, these “questers” on their pilgrimage to help others. They are alchemists who turned a mere bagel and cup of coffee on a breakfast buffet into a feast, a normally impersonal hotel into a warm and inviting home, a chat into a penetrating learning moment, strangers into embracing friends, a professional conference into an meaningful personal experience. Each of these people is a spiritual person because of their otherness. What do I mean by that? Well, a spiritual person is a person who is far less into her/himself than she or he is into others. And, a person who, alone, has seen something beautiful, who has heard something melodic, who has tasted something delicious, who has smelled something fragrant, does not completely enjoyed it until she or he experiences the complete joy of sharing her or his joy with others.

You know; the more I think about it, the more I realize I had left out one key ingredient when I talked of my daily renewal and resilience plan a couple of months ago. I didn’t talk about conscious reflection. It’s not enough to have a spiritual alphabet and pick a word to live by each day. You’ve got to think of and identify the things that happened that day and reflect on why they occurred because of the word you decided to live that day. That’s what I do over a glass of wine and some cheese while I’m quietly sitting with Susan. I guess that’s what I am doing right now. I reflect on a bunch of happenings, things as simple as saying “hello” to a maintenance worker, holding a door open for someone, smiling at someone, or whatever. For me it’s a way to savor the pleasing feelings, thoughts, events, and activities as I do a glass of wine or a warm shower or a good meal or a snuggle with Susan. I find that the day’s signature attitude and feeling, that word from my Spiritual Alphabet, engages me in satisfying activities and make me see satisfying activities others are doing. As I told Renee Love at the conference–I think I told her–the way things are going in my life depends on how I choose to feel, that my feelings are really my most sincere expectations, that they are my ultimate prayer, and that every part of my life picks up the signals from those expectations. For example, the day I talked with Renee and later with Sandy and still later with Kurt and Michelle and Jane was the day that my word from my Spiritual Alphabet was “listen.” Again, I don’t ask. I see now that by sincerely admiring the beauty of their desires to help others, I became more beautiful; when I truly appreciated their creative work, my own creativity grew stronger; when I acted respectfully toward their during our conversations, I was more respectful of myself and my own possibilities; when I was generous with them, I found life was generous; when I admired their compassion for students, I found everything and everyone around me admirable; when I listened to the passion of their words and saw the passion in their faces, that passion found a place in me as well. And, all that was true when I talked with a bunch of others.

Here I am, in the Atlanta airport, carrying echoes of the people to whom I was exposed these past few days. If my thoughts, feelings, words, actions, and the results all take their cue from the way I feel, then I have to choose how I feel about myself, others, and what I am doing. That is how my life will play out. That’s what any Lilly conference is about. It’s putting me amid people where the goodness of life accumulates within me. Now, as I go back into the classroom thirsting to see the students present their Dr. Seuss books, that goodness, and its subsequent riches, will grow.

But, there’s nothing automatic about it. I’m not talking about a once-in-a-while, convenient, comfortable effort. I’m talking about an every-moment-of-every-day effort in everything I touch, taste, smell, hear, and see. Nor is it having a goal; it’s not reaching a place; or it’s not having everything in place. So many of us think that when we get everything just right, and obtain certain goals and circumstances–tenure, a publication, a grant, a conference presentation– everything will be in place, we will be happy, and all will be right with the world. Life doesn’t happen that way. If we want things, such as the classroom, to be perfect, want things to go smoothly, want things to go as we wish, want things to be easy and convenient and comfortable, we�ll be waiting a very, very long time. Life throws us lots of curve balls. But, if we can only hit straight, fast balls, we’ll strike out every time, get disheartened, and burn out. You see the whole thing is about not being in new places, but seeing the very place where you are with a new “heart set.”

My alphabet, and especially reflecting consciously on the impact of living it, gives me a shot at taking the initiative and filling both my professional and personal life with as much love and joy and goodness and positive experience as I can imagine. I see that each day is overflowing with wonderful possibilities, that I can take hold of those possibilities, and dive deeply into their richness. I let go of concerns about what others would think. I let go of far-fetched worries about what might go wrong. Day after day, by my words, my actions, and my thoughts, I chose my own path. And that path has brought me to precisely where I am and who I am.

I’ll tell you. I don’t chase happiness. I live it where I am. I am grateful for where I am. If I am driven by anything, it is helping that student help him/herself become the person she or he is capable of becoming. My alphabet is a constant reminder that there is only the slightest connection between my circumstances and the joy I experience. Each moment is what I make of it. There is a bunch of positive and negative influences out there. They’re both sitting on my shoulders and whispering in my ears. The only ones I listen to are the ones I allow to resonate inside me and I choose to identify with. This alphabet, and reflecting on the effects of living it each day, doesn’t allow the least little setback to get and keep me down as much. I don’t cling to outdated assumptions as much. I don’t look through opaque presumptions as much. I don’t let burdensome conditions own my happiness as much. I don’t miss out on so much of life in an attempt to maintain a sense of comfort and security as much. I don’t let my fears stop me from living the rich and full life I was created to experience as much. I don’t allow myself to be a victim of circumstances as much. I don’t hold myself down as much. I see beyond the limits of my perceptions. I understand the power of choice that is mine. I know that it is I who has the waters to douse the flame or the fuel to feed it. No, each and every choice I make determines the details of how my life will proceed.

Enough. Back to waiting with crossword puzzle No. 77.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

Susan and I have just returned from a day trip of grand-daughter spoiling in Nashville. I’m getting myself into the meditative mood for presenting two inter-related sessions at the Lilly-South conference on preventing faculty burnout and creating a motivating classroom. Everyone wants handouts. So, I’ve been printing off a bunch of my stuff that I may or may not use: “Rules of the Road,” “Ten Stickies,” “Zen and the Art of Teaching Maintenance,” “Spiritual Alphabet,” and a power point presentation. But, nothing threw me into the spirit then what happened yesterday night.

I was reading students’ journals when a chat message interrupted my reading, “Wanna talk. Too busy to listen?”

It was Jane (not her real name). She didn’t know but it was a strange question she asked because the word for the day from my Spiritual Alphabet that I had picked out from my Cat-in-the-Hat hat that morning was “listen.” It was another one of those times I just don’t ask. I stopped what I was doing and answered, “No. Good to hear from you. Its been a long while. Two years?”

“More,” she corrected me. Then, after a pause, she threw me a written outburst. “Why didn’t you say ‘yes’? Why are you bothering to talk with me after I betrayed your trust in me by lying day after day? Why didn’t you get pissed as hell at me instead of being just disappointed when I gave up? Why is that still bothering me after all this time? Why the hell am I bothering to talk to you now?”

“I don’t know. Why do you think all this bothering is going on?”

We must have talked for over an hour about stuff I’ll keep between her and me. She ended the conversation with, “Mind if we talk some more now and then?”

“Any ‘now and then’ you wish. I hope it’s more now than then.”

All this has reminded me of the work by Jeremy Gray of Yale and Sara Lazaar at Mass General Hospital that I had read. It’s really interesting stuff. Their studies suggest that meditation can affect parts of the brain that deal with positive thinking, with sensory and cognitive and emotional processing. That without saphron robes or monastic retreats, meditation can change your gray matter for the better. So, this morning, I guess I want to take you with me into that gray zone as Jane just took me.

I want to talk about spirituality in teaching in particular and in education in general. I know. Some of you, maybe a lot of you, will shake your heads and say, “There, he’s going off the deep end again with that touchy feely stuff.” Well, I am going deep. Spirituality is not high above “up there;” it’s something deep “in here” that aims high. It doesn’t take us up, up, and away from ourselves. It gives us our precious humanity, our sacred individuality, and our noble community with others. It is not half-baked tomfoolery; it’s well prepared soul food. It is not divorced from reality; it’s revelations are grounded in the everyday. It is tangled in and thoroughly engaged with the sensual world around and in us. In it we find purpose, meaning, and value both beyond ourselves and within ourselves. So, I will argue that to be a practical and effective teacher you’ve got to be spiritual. Does that sound like a contradiction? It shouldn’t. It is not a matter of intellectual v. spiritual. It is not an either/or situation. It’s not. It’s not. It’s not. It’s not. We have to recognize the important role that spirituality plays in the lives of people, in our lives. And, we educators are in the people business far more than are in the information transmission business.

What, then, do I mean by spirituality? Well, for some it is something transcendent above us. For me, it is more of being deeply human and less of being godly; it is the desires, struggles, fears, memories that lie deep within me and draw me deep into my physical and emotional being. It ties to my teaching because by spirituality I also mean my approach to life which, in turn, determines my approach to teaching and to each student. Too many think and act as if life on the campus and life in the classroom are separate from their lives, life off-campus, and life itself. For another thing, it means to me a distaste for reducing education to a numbers game, that is, to only that which can be quantified and controlled. I think too many of our educational institutions, that is, far too many of us, are caught up in an intellectual “ten word” oversimplification, a shallow and often self-serving outlook, and a consequent distortion of the educational terrain. That is, too many of us, objectify ourselves and others; we make real individual people unreal. Too many of us count so heavily on counting while ignoring those very important matters that can’t be counted however they may count. That’s because we don’t just see spirituality. I think it was Anais Nin who said that we don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are. That is, we see our concepts. We have our specific lexicon and set formulas. We see through the eyes of our evaluations, biases, prejudices, tolerances, judgments, dismissals, acceptances, categorizations. We see with our emotions when we try to emotionally drum out emotions from academia’s intellectual scene. What we wince and groan and shake our head at in disapproval or grin and smile and nod our head at in approval is determined by our self-absorbing, emotionally satisfying attachments to fixed ideas. And all of these attachments to the views we have are impediments to talking about spirituality in practical terms and seeing the practical role spirituality, in partnership with intellectuality, plays in education. So, if you want to see spirituality, you have to do some heavy housekeeping; you have to spring clean your heart and mind. You have to be ready to improvise, to set aside your rehearsed responses, your specific lexicon, your set formulas, your sweeping generalities. You have to be ready to be dragged away from your comforting, routine, and dulling comforts.

So, what is spirituality? It’s connection. It’s a watching of our heart and mind. It’s being conscious of our thoughts and feelings. It’s the recognition that students have an inner life that is nourished by meaningful learning which provides direction, wholeness and connectedness in the context of community. By community I mean four dimensions of connectivity. One is a connectedness with our inner self; one is a connectedness between and among students; one is a connectedness of each student with him/her self; and the last is a connectedness of us with each of them. The first has to do with a mindfulness of who you are and who you can become; the second with a vision, meaning, purpose; and the third with working with other people. The first has to do with the belief in your own sacredness and meaningfulness; the second has to do with something larger than ourselves that endows a meaning, purpose, sacredness of all lives; the third has to do with helping other sacred human beings, cherishing the potential of others, rejoicing in the lives of others. The first has to do with your heart and soul; the second with a perspective that has no horizon; the third with service to others. Spirituality, then, means to be at a point beyond limited self-interest and anxiety about yourself where you identify with a greater existence comes a deep-seated desire to serve, promote, and contribute, a positive and creative sense of moral responsiveness. A spiritual person is one with a strong sense of “me” and a stronger sense of “them.” I don’t find spirituality to be in conflict with intellectuality. To be spiritual, requires a mental discipline and a mental transformation. If anything, spirituality makes my horizon horizonless; its endlessness gives me a heck of a lot more to think about. It urges me on to ask about and investigate the deeper questions. Spirituality has this limbering impact by taking you off the ground and flies you beyond familiar territory; it pushes you beyond your limits and thereby pushes back your limits. I have not attached myself to any anti-intellectual or anti-academic star. Spirituality is a journey from the head to the heart that joins the heart with the head with the body. Being a servant, being a servant teacher, believing I am on an educational service mission, believing in others, having a faith in and hope for others, accepting a sacredness of others, loving others, having an enveloping “otherness,” having a sensitive “mindfulness” or “awareness,” paying attention, striving to help others help themselves strive for their unique potential is the star on which I hitch a ride.

Educationally, to be spiritual means two things. The first is to pay attention to yourself and your own teaching that emanates from your self as if it truly matters to you. The second is to pay attention to each student’s life as if it matters to you. It means to develop to a stage in life or to evolve to an attitude that is over and beyond limited self-interest and fear or anxiety about and for yourself embodied in tenure, promotion, renown. By spirituality, I mean a movement outward toward faith, believe, zeal, mindfulness, peacefulness, forgiveness, generosity, patience, truthfulness, hope and love of each student. By spirituality, I mean a compassion, a well-tempered heart, as the path to kindness and happiness. After all, I can’t stop having faith in students or loving them just because they do something wrong and aren’t perfect.

“Otherness” and “mindfulness,” then, are the measures of my academic stature. We have to start where the students are, not where we are. To loosely paraphrase William Coffin, there is no smaller academic package in all of academe than that of an academic wrapped up in himself. Spirituality is an attitude towards yourself and others; it is an attitude; it is a state of mind, soul, heart, body. It is, therefore, both a state of being and a state of doing. It’s really a way of living, for as I perceive myself, so it influences how I perceive and interact with those others we call students and colleagues, as well as how I conduct my daily life. And thus, your life is spiritual meditation, for spirituality is a way of being, of managing the living of your life, and your teaching, with a beauty, grace, warmth, love, and intimacy rather than with an ugliness, tenseness, distance, chill, lovelessness, and fearfulness. An educationally engaged spirituality is filled with the awe and wonder of each person in the classroom; it tells you that there are other sacred souls in that room who matter; it energizes you to do whatever it takes in the service of each of those persons. It’s having three voices: the voice of your head, and the voice of your heart, both of which join to give voice to your mouth, face, and body. Combined they’re the spirit and embodiment of empathy, understanding, compassion, love, faith, hope, and kindness. Spiritual is a complex, variable, and multifaceted dimension of existence. It, like intellectuality, grew within me in proportion to its growing importance to me. It comes from relentless, powerful, patient, committed, and concentrated intention, purpose, and meaning. It translates into the courage to be happy, the courage to serve, and the courage to shine in the darkness. And, all that comes onto campus and into the classroom since both are parts of life. And so, I find that my spirituality has impacted on my evolving philosophy of education, on my educational credo, on my attitudes towards students, on my teaching methods. I no longer see myself as merely a transmitter and instiller of information. I no longer see education as simply and solely something white-collared vocational. I no longer see education solely as something with which to secure a job. I see the purpose of an education as more than that. I see education as helping someone learn how strive for his or her unique potential, to live well as well as how to earn a good living. I see, then, the most important use of information, knowledge, and education is to help students, as well as ourselves, transform into better persons, to understand the importance of engaging in more wholesome actions, and imposing a discipline of understanding of, appreciation of, consideration for, and respect for others on our minds, hearts, and actions.

Spirituality, then, is not a matter of looking spiritual or doing spiritual. It’s not a matter of disconnecting. To the contrary, it’s a matter of connecting. It’s a matter of living spiritual. It offers slowing, taking breath punctuation to a harried, relentless, blurring run-on sentence of life. That’s very important, for what we feel, think, and do is limited only by what we fail to notice and appreciate. Being spiritual means the fabric of the great principles of living are to be found in the thread of daily living. That is, you based your decisions not on convenience, conformity, or success, but on compassion and service to others. It’s the rudder that allows you to navigate the dangerous shoals of material life and pay no heed to the sirens constantly trying to draw you off-course onto the shoals. Being spiritual costs less than you think, takes less effort than you think, is easier than you think. It is found everywhere around you and in you. Listen to Yoda explain it to Luke: “For my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we…” Luminous beings are we. We each can shine in the darkness.

Everyone asks “how” did I come to this point. The answer is to tell my story, my genesis story. That requires more than a degree of personal exposure, of stripping off any protective and masking armor I might be wearing to make myself vulnerable. I tell my truth, and I never find it alarming to others who listen. I relate my story not as a prescription for anyone, but as an explanation of how my long and hard journey–I’ll repeat that, “long and hard”–has made me a better person and thus a better teacher. I tell it as a demonstration that any transformation takes time and is challenging. I don’t ask people to follow me. I don’t ask people if it’s okay to do it. It’s not a question for me. They ask; I tell. I am less fearful than when I began my journey in 1991. The Zen-trained Benedictine brother David Steindl-Rast reminds me that we can be grateful even in difficult times: “The gift within every gift is opportunity. In troubled times, the opportunity is to do something about it.” I am more prayerful. I am more peaceful. I am stronger. I am more confident. I have, as Jon Kabat-Zinn would say, fallen in love with each moment, especially after having cancer, for I have come to see that each moment missed is a moment unlived and each person missed is rift in the future. And, I am more likely to miss the moment and the person if I am blinded and deafened and numbed by mindless and automatic habits of feeling, thinkng and doing. That love gives me what it takes to make an ordinary instant into a great one that will always be remembered: living in awareness and appreciation. And so, I have fallen deeper in love with others we call colleagues and students and friends. I have fallen in even deeper love with my Susan, my sons, their wives, my grand-children. I had fallen in deepest love with life. As I grow older, I am growing younger and bolder. As my bones creak more, I am getting more limber. In the coming autumn of my life, I have more of a spring. I can communicate more easily; I am more open; I am more authentic; I am more colorful and more engaged in life; I live more contentedly; I live more intently; I live more meaningfully and more purposefully; I live more compassionately. I live more peacefully. I do good better. I feel good and better. I am better, a better person, a better learner, and thus a much better teacher.

Make it a good day.

–Louis–

 This morning I received a message. It started with the profound, “Still Clean!! 496 Days!!! 3.6 last semester!! Only you would have thought at first. Now I do also!! What color is your pinky nail today?” It went on:

….I remember you saying that facing death from cancer placed
you closest to facing life and that never forgetting you could
have died is the best way to intensely live life, and that I should
never blot out when I…… Like your cancer, all that past shit now
reminds me of my blessings, to list all the good things in my life,
to see the real value within me, to focus on the potential I have
within me, to focus on my purpose in life, and to put me at peace
with……I still like that because each day I was think about how if
I want to become a stronger, more self-confident person, I can
become that person. I am slowly being confident and believing in
myself. I am slowly seeing that I can achieve a lot more than I’ve
ever tried to. One clean day leads me to another and another and
another. Each day I get a tingle of excitement when I think of
fulfilling my unexplored possibilities that I once never dreamed
could exist. Those feelings tell me who I actually am and of the
value within me which is important if I am to believe in what I can
do. I cherish them and now work hard to bring them to the surface
and give them life so they can give me a better life. Like you told
me, a small step on a great journey to find that magnificent
treasure within me is not small at all. I really liked what you once
said to me. Each day I am clean I believe in myself more. I do not
think all those negative things that people have said about me and
have done to me, and what I had believed for so long about me. I
realize my value and self worth does not come from….but from who
I am. I am so happy to not have felt that awful feeling….It was a
feeling of shame, sadness, and anger. Now each day I am clean I
gain confidence in myself and am happier. I don’t let those voices
stop me. I don’t let others stop me. I don’t let me stop me. I have
found that my most beautiful and fulfilling moments are the ones
that are the sincere and authentic ones. That is, when I’m being
my true self is, when I’m at my best. So many people so quickly
latch on to someone else’s idea of who they should be and what
is success, while at the same time ignoring their own authentic
dreams. So many people so easily ignore the words in their gut
and dismiss their own instincts and intuitions. That’s what I was
doing. I remember all those times you told me that each day I
was clean I was being myself and no longer what others wanted
or expected me to be. You kept telling me to pay attention to
that little voice inside of me. I listen to it now each day. That
voice, as I see, tells me what I can accomplish, what brings me
joy, and create real richness in my life.

I have taped to my mirror a copy of note you sent me in reply to
when I was desperately in need of faith in me. I doubt you
remember it. I’m sure you don’t remember it. Here it is: ‘Could it be
that there is a vast storehouse of value within you that is waiting
to be unlocked, and that each day you’re clean you catch a
glimpse of it and those brief encounters truly amaze you? Remember
your future is not a place; it’s something you create. Whatever path
you choose to walk, remember it’s the one you’ve cut. It’s not the
one you’ve discovered. Make your future, cut your path, and you’ll
change who you are and the course you’re following. If you can follow
your inner voice, you’ll slowly stop listening to the dark, denigrating
voices; you’ll let go of all the superficial distractions and petty pursuits
under which have locked up that richness. When you no longer let
things tear you down and enslave you, when you see the angel rather
than the demon inside, you’ll find sacredness in yourself and purpose
and meaning in your life. When you distance yourself from your
sadness, you’ll come closer to the true joy that is your birthright.
When you no longer pin your hopes on shallow, fleeting, physical
sensations, you’ll uncover your beautiful inner spirit that can bring your
life true joy. As you do all that, you start becoming the person you are
capable of becoming.’ Each day I read those words as I brush my teeth
and put on my makeup. Thanks to you—I know, really to me–each day
I’m clean I’m living with fulfillment and purpose. Each day I’m clean I no
longer am running and hiding from the real joy that I now know can be
mine. Each day I’m clean I’m authentically living the life of that sacred
someone I am. Each day I’m clean I see that angel in front of me telling
everyone to make way for someone created in the image of God. Each
day I’m clean I’m coming closer to the real me. Each day I’m clean I’m
letting go of all those angers, distractions, fears, frustrations and
annoyances that come from chasing the approval of others I so
desperately wanted, that so desperately owned me, that so desperately
disrespected me, that so limited my belief in myself and what I am
capable of becoming. Each day I’m clean, I’ve opened a little wider that
inner vault I wanted to believe was always inside me but until I met you
and heard the story of your painted pinky never dared to see if it was
true. I’ve found real gold inside me and I’ll be damn if I’m ever going to
settle any more for fool’s gold. Just want to say thanks and to let you
know that you’re teaching me and I’m learning long after our class is over….

I’m not going to go into any details about this person who was in class with me sometime in the near past.

 This message, along with a conversation I had with my good friend, Don Fraser, is the answer to a question thrown at me by a student who wants to be a teacher. He asked me what it is about teaching that turns me on. It’s the students. When I’m around with those young people, I grab energy from them by the fistful. The steam rises. I love it. I love working with the young. I love helping them help themselves start becoming what they are capable of becoming. I love getting up each morning asking myself how I can make a difference. It’s making a difference in someone’s life and altering the future! I’ll tell him that a true education is not getting a grade or a diploma. It’s not found in a GPA or a recognition. If that was the case, then the least of learning takes place in the classroom. We each are what we dwell on. So many students are the attitudes and thoughts that stand in the way of seeing clearly that which they truly are and capable of becoming. So many students are overcome by halting “I ams,” and barricading “buts” and paralyzing “can’ts.” They’ve lost their self-empowerment. They’ve lost the essential peace that is within each of them. That’s important to understand and focus on. While most talents are a gift, the character to develop and use those talents is not written in our DNA code. We have to build it piece by piece by thought, choice, courage, determination, perseverance, commitment, belief, faith, confidence, hope, and love.

 I’ll tell him that making a difference means paying attention to the possibilities. It means evoking a generosity of conscience expended to helping each student change her or his focus. It means helping each student make clear much of what is presently out of focus. So many times, in so many journal entries written by the students, in so many conversation with them, I see that students are not aware of their talents and abilities, confuse getting grades with learning, and don’t wonder what they have to do to cut through the veil that obscures their great potential? To me, then, making a difference means helping someone lose and find her/himself at the same time, of helping her or him find a new way of looking at her/himself, at others, and at things.”

 I’ll tell him that I see teaching and learning as a journey to self-discovery for myself and others. It’s vital to see that, for to know yourself, understand your own heart and mind, seeing how the threads of that understanding and knowledge weave through all aspects of life is a knowledge of will, the clear intention to be, a recognition that you have the gift of life, you’re a caretaker of that life, and to actualize your life purpose. It’s a vehicle to push myself and each student to achieve our own unique potential. It’s not just a way to make a living. It’s a way to make a life.

 I’ll tell him that for me, what it takes to be a teacher is a way of life. It’s a way to answer the larger, more important, questions of life. It’s a means to make meaningful connections. Above all, teaching is not only for or about me. Its essence rests in an otherness. It is about doing it for other people.

 I’ll tell him that, I found soon after my epiphany in 1991 that as I began a shift from striving to be important to doing significant things, as I slowly placed myself in the shadows, I began to see the sunlight in others, especially in each student. So, I’ve come to look at teaching from a broad view with a vision of service. Professionally, my life’s work is in helping each student help her/himself become the person she or he is capable of becoming.

 I’ll let him in on a little secret. None of this “turn on” is a goal. I don’t focus on influencing or being significant or even on making a different. I don’t have a map. I find that maps and fixed goals trespass on my freedom to be innovative, flexible, adaptive, and creative. I just pay attention, intense attention, to what and who are around me. That is, I don’t so worry about where I’m going that I lose track of where I am; I don’t look at tomorrow or yesterday that I forget to live today; I don’t so intently focus on a destination that I don’t enjoy the ride. I do have a compass; I have aspirations that breathe life into me and make me pant with desire. I never really feel lost with taking a wrong turn or having failed because every wrong turn or mistake is an opportunity for a “let’s see where this leads to” learning and experiencing of new things, and therefore for growing. I listen for opportunities that are always knocking, but usually softly. I am intensely aware. I don’t covet or regret–usually. I appreciate who I am, and more importantly who I am capable of becoming. I’m adventurous–always. I treat myself like the one-time journey I am, and revel in new experiences and meeting new people. I’m a people person, always reaching out to constantly seek, build and nurture relationships with new people. I don’t worry how things will turn out because I have learned that one way to have the will power to take this journey is to acquire the want power to take this journey. I will get there because I want to get there, and since I want to get there, I’ll do whatever it takes to get there. I know I will, for I’ve learned that it’s only the happy, loving, faithful, believing, and hopeful heart that generously gives away and receives the best.

 Want to make a difference? Then remember this: a life dedicated to a great purpose becomes great.

Make it a good day.

      –Louis–