So, I sent two message on OKCupid- one to a guy who I thought was super cute (remember Aidan from Sex and the City?) and one to a guy who seemed really interesting and whose work related to mine. The work guy messaged me back and said he could meet for lunch. I didn't respond to his message right away; I got scared, though I don't know what of. But the funny thing was how frequently I started going on OKCupid. Whereas before, I was afraid to be on there, now I was jumping on to see if the other guy had messaged me back and to see if someone new had messaged me. After about the third or fourth time on there, I finally messaged the work guy back and told him I couldn't meet for lunch but offered a bunch of other times that I could meet (he never messaged me back after that).
Meanwhile, I discovered that the hot guy had actually "visited" me (there's a feature on there that allows you to see when someone has "visited" you- looked at your profile). At first, I was bummed. Clearly, he had gotten my message. Clearly, he had come to my site to see who I was; and clearly (since I hadn't gotten a message in response), he didn't like what he saw enough to want to meet me in person.
My second response was pretty funny. I decided that he didn't know me well enough, that I hadn't put enough information on my profile for him to see how we were actually a good match for each other. So I seriously considered updating my profile to showcase the things about me that I thought would help him to see how I was just as interesting as he was. And then I pictured him visiting me again and suddenly having an interest in me and finally messaging me back. But then I realized- you can't make someone like you. For whatever reason, he's not interested and you can't change that. Maybe he'll be interested later but you honestly can not change his interest in you- no matter how great you make your profile.
But then I did another interesting thing- I posted photos.
When I first went on OKCupid with my room mate, I wanted nothing to do with posting "pretty" pictures of me like my room mate had said. But suddenly, I wanted to. At first, I was critical of this: "Am I trying to get guys to like me by posting photos of me? Am I trying to get more messages by showing off my physical features?"
But then I thought back to my interaction with the guy who didn't message me back and what I noticed was that I thought that my profile didn't actually reflect who I was. There was definitely a part of me that was trying to "get" him to like me, but part of me also noticed that I wasn't totally showing myself on OKCupid, that I hadn't been totally honest or forthcoming or, for lack of a better word, promoting of myself on OKCupid.
And I thought that was interesting and pretty true of me in general. Part of me is scared to share myself fully. And by fully I don't mean revealing all of my personal life, I mean that I tend to hide things about me when I feel like sharing them is kind of boasting or bragging. I don't know why I do this but I am definitely aware that this is what I do. I rarely accept compliments, rarely talk about any successes, rarely acknowledge who I am unless it's admitting faults or talking about my silly quirks. This is all fine and good except for the fact that it isn't full- I'm not sharing all parts of myself. In the same way that you wouldn't want someone to hide their faults, you kind of don't want someone to hide their successes either- not so much because of deception but more because you just aren't allowing yourself to be seen- and that can cause suffering.
I haven't changed my profile, other than posting my pictures, but I do think this has been a really interesting learning in how I put myself out there, how I am presenting myself in this world of dating. I have fear around putting myself out there and so I don't. And then I think that people don't see me.
And so I am laughing at myself for this.
I suppose I should go back on there and update my profile- not so much to promote myself but just to experiment with what it would be to actually put all of me up there- what I do see as myself; to be okay with being confident with those things that I actually think others might admire or like about me.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
Ok Cupid: Actually sending messages
The next day I realized that I actually had to send a message, to someone I was interested in, who was actually available. So, I looked through my matches and found myself kind of annoyed. Some of the matches were people who didn't match me at all- they lived far away or were super young or seemed only interested in partying. It seemed like OK Cupid wasn't doing such a good job of finding someone who I actually was interested in. And then I remembered that my friend had told me what words she had put in her search engine on OK Cupid and I realized that I could do that too.
I considered putting in "honest" but that seemed kind of naïve and a little broad. I also felt like maybe OK Cupid wasn't the place to find someone and imagined people at the zen center saying "Why are you looking for someone on OK Cupid? It seems like you could find someone here instead." So I decided to put in zen, instead, and it worked! Up popped a bunch of people's profiles with the word zen in them. Quite a few of them only popped up because they had read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Riding but a few others actually referenced coming to the zen center.
I was so relieved. It was so nice to see that there were people out there, who were actually on OK Cupid, who were talking about meditation, and being present, and the beauty of humanity and wanting to make a difference.... Maybe OK Cupid wasn't so bad after all.
Of course, I didn't message any of them. I was too scared to do that, especially now that I was interested in some of them. But I did put four of them into my favorites column.
The next day I looked at my list of things to do and right there, in all caps, was OK Cupid. I knew I had to do it, I had to do my three messages, so I did. I went on with the intent of just sending messages. But it was hard. I wanted to be honest, to be myself, I wanted to share my genuine interest in these people. At the same time, I wanted to be casual- it was just a message after all. In the end, I found a compromise by just imagining myself, sitting across the table from the person, and writing what I would say to them after reading their profile. I tried to make my messages brief, to simply express my interest and inquire as to their interest in a face to face meeting, and leave it at that.
And that's where I am: two messages sent (didn't get to the third) and walking away from the dart game until next weekend.
I considered putting in "honest" but that seemed kind of naïve and a little broad. I also felt like maybe OK Cupid wasn't the place to find someone and imagined people at the zen center saying "Why are you looking for someone on OK Cupid? It seems like you could find someone here instead." So I decided to put in zen, instead, and it worked! Up popped a bunch of people's profiles with the word zen in them. Quite a few of them only popped up because they had read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Riding but a few others actually referenced coming to the zen center.
I was so relieved. It was so nice to see that there were people out there, who were actually on OK Cupid, who were talking about meditation, and being present, and the beauty of humanity and wanting to make a difference.... Maybe OK Cupid wasn't so bad after all.
Of course, I didn't message any of them. I was too scared to do that, especially now that I was interested in some of them. But I did put four of them into my favorites column.
The next day I looked at my list of things to do and right there, in all caps, was OK Cupid. I knew I had to do it, I had to do my three messages, so I did. I went on with the intent of just sending messages. But it was hard. I wanted to be honest, to be myself, I wanted to share my genuine interest in these people. At the same time, I wanted to be casual- it was just a message after all. In the end, I found a compromise by just imagining myself, sitting across the table from the person, and writing what I would say to them after reading their profile. I tried to make my messages brief, to simply express my interest and inquire as to their interest in a face to face meeting, and leave it at that.
And that's where I am: two messages sent (didn't get to the third) and walking away from the dart game until next weekend.
OK Cupid rejections
The next night, I had a lovely dinner with my room mate for his birthday and when we got home, I mentioned to him that I had been going on OKCupid. He was excited about this and wanted to help me post some pictures that would actually show how pretty I was. I was annoyed by this- I didn't want to post pretty pictures of me, I didn't want people looking at me as if I were pretty. I have no idea why I don't want people looking at me like I'm pretty, I just know that I don't. But we went on my profile anyway.
Even with my photo, I still hadn't gotten any messages, and I noticed that I was disappointed that the guy in the South Bay hadn't even messaged back to say thank you for messaging him. My room mate ignored all of that and went straight for the collection of photos under the heading "Who's looked at you."
"I don't want to see that!!" I thought to myself. "That's all the people who looked at me but didn't message me. That's all the people who rejected me!"
But my room mate was interested in seeing the photos so he clicked on them. The first picture was of a guy with his shirt off, standing on the beach, with what I thought was a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"Gross!" I said. "I don't want a guy who's profile picture shows a cigarette all hanging from his lips."
"Hold on," my room mate said. "Just give it a chance," and he zoomed in to see that it was a lollipop and then he commented, "He's got a great body."
"That may be your body type, but it's not mine," I remarked.
"Okay..." he said and clicked on the next one.
I found the next guy even less attractive and said so to my room mate.
"Wow!" he said. "You haven't even looked at his other photos. Maybe he has better ones..."
"No thanks," I said. "I mean c'mon, if that's your profile photo? If that's his best one? What kind of effort is he putting in to this and how attractive could he be?"
And then my room mate answered back, "Well, apparently he didn't make the best judgment in deciding which photo to put up as his profile. You did the same thing- your photo isn't flattering of you at all..."
And then I got quiet and watched as my room mate scrolled through the rest of the photos. I noticed how quickly I had become cranky about all of this- how quickly I had become defensive and turned this all around, how ready I was to criticize my room mate's taste in men.
"What's going on?" I asked myself. "How did you switch from hoping to get a message to wanting to reject every single photo you see?"
And then I realized that I was seeing all those people who had "looked" at me (and not messaged me)as people who had rejected me and I was evaluating myself based on their level of attractiveness. As I watched my room mate scroll through photos of people who I found unattractive I felt less and less attractive myself. If these people, who I thought were undesirable, were rejecting me- who was I? I was the bottom of the bottom.
We looked through a few more photos and I followed my room mate's lead- giving each photo a chance and trying not to see these people as anything other than someone who had looked at me. It didn't last very long. I was still pretty cranky and the internet was slow, so we decided to call it a night.
Even with my photo, I still hadn't gotten any messages, and I noticed that I was disappointed that the guy in the South Bay hadn't even messaged back to say thank you for messaging him. My room mate ignored all of that and went straight for the collection of photos under the heading "Who's looked at you."
"I don't want to see that!!" I thought to myself. "That's all the people who looked at me but didn't message me. That's all the people who rejected me!"
But my room mate was interested in seeing the photos so he clicked on them. The first picture was of a guy with his shirt off, standing on the beach, with what I thought was a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"Gross!" I said. "I don't want a guy who's profile picture shows a cigarette all hanging from his lips."
"Hold on," my room mate said. "Just give it a chance," and he zoomed in to see that it was a lollipop and then he commented, "He's got a great body."
"That may be your body type, but it's not mine," I remarked.
"Okay..." he said and clicked on the next one.
I found the next guy even less attractive and said so to my room mate.
"Wow!" he said. "You haven't even looked at his other photos. Maybe he has better ones..."
"No thanks," I said. "I mean c'mon, if that's your profile photo? If that's his best one? What kind of effort is he putting in to this and how attractive could he be?"
And then my room mate answered back, "Well, apparently he didn't make the best judgment in deciding which photo to put up as his profile. You did the same thing- your photo isn't flattering of you at all..."
And then I got quiet and watched as my room mate scrolled through the rest of the photos. I noticed how quickly I had become cranky about all of this- how quickly I had become defensive and turned this all around, how ready I was to criticize my room mate's taste in men.
"What's going on?" I asked myself. "How did you switch from hoping to get a message to wanting to reject every single photo you see?"
And then I realized that I was seeing all those people who had "looked" at me (and not messaged me)as people who had rejected me and I was evaluating myself based on their level of attractiveness. As I watched my room mate scroll through photos of people who I found unattractive I felt less and less attractive myself. If these people, who I thought were undesirable, were rejecting me- who was I? I was the bottom of the bottom.
We looked through a few more photos and I followed my room mate's lead- giving each photo a chance and trying not to see these people as anything other than someone who had looked at me. It didn't last very long. I was still pretty cranky and the internet was slow, so we decided to call it a night.
Ok Cupid: it's like playing darts
A friend of mine made a deal with herself that she would go on a date every other Saturday. When I heard this I thought to myself, "That's something I could reasonably do. I think I could actually commit to attempting to go on a date every two weeks."
So she and I talked about it and she explained that she often found someone to go on a date with on OKCupid. We decided to set a deadline for me that I would go on OKCupid between now and the next time we met. I hemmed and hawed, dragged my feet, was glad when I had to miss our meeting but only because I was feeling so guilty for not meeting my end of the deal: going on OKCupid. About two weeks after our initial deadline, I finally went on. I hadn't been on in five months and I had only one message. I didn't mind it too much, I still hadn't posted a picture and, to be honest, wasn't actually all that interested in finding someone. I told myself I was only going on there to find a date and I was only finding a date because I had made a deal with a friend.
I looked over my profile, checked to see if I needed to add anything, and decided that I really needed to post a picture. I searched my laptop, found a reasonable one, and posted it. And then I immediately signed out.
I laughed at myself for this- how scared I was about someone actually seeing my picture and messaging me. I wasn't sure what I thought was going to happen but I still found it amusing that I was apparently interested enough to post a photo but equally terrified of anyone responding to it.
The following week, I decided to go on again. I knew that I had to keep up my deal to go on a date every other Saturday and the only way I could do it was to find someone to ask out and OKCupid seemed like the only place to ask someone.
I looked in my list of matches and saw a guy who looked cute. On his profile he said that on a typical Friday night, he would go to a restaurant, alone, and strike up a conversation with the people at the table next to him. I thought that was pretty cool so I looked at the rest of his profile. He lived in the South Bay and was only interested in dating people who lived near him. I messaged him anyway, telling myself that I was just being honest, expressing my interest, not being limited by his profile saying that he was only interested in dating locally. And then I immediately signed out again, afraid that he might actually message me back.
As soon as I got off, I imagined telling my therapist about this- about how I had actually messaged someone on OKCupid. And then I imagined her response: You messaged the guy who you knew wasn't interested in dating you because you lived far away. You found the guy who was unavailable and expressed interest in him. That worked out really well for you, didn't it? You didn't take a risk and any rejection on his part can be easily chalked up to distance, not you." And then she reminded me- it's intimacy that you're afraid of, not rejection. You're avoiding intimacy but pretending like you're avoiding rejection. Darn her...
That Friday night, I had dinner with a friend and shared with her my antics on OKCupid. She said that when she was on there, she would try to send 12 messages a month. She explained that it was like playing darts: if you've only got one dart in your hand, you're all nervous and you feel like you only have this one shot to hit the target. But if you have 10 darts in your hand, you just start throwing them, and if you're lucky, you get a bull's eye. (She also said that people don't message back all the time and you just can't take it personally)
And she was totally right! If I was sending out three messages a week, I wouldn't care so much about what happened, I was just sending messages but if I was actually sending only one, with this intent of hitting a bull's eye? I'd go crazy and over analyze and over think and be all disappointed in the lack of returns.
So, I decided to follow her advice and send three message each week- just to throw a dart out of my hand, not so much to try to hit a bull's eye.
So she and I talked about it and she explained that she often found someone to go on a date with on OKCupid. We decided to set a deadline for me that I would go on OKCupid between now and the next time we met. I hemmed and hawed, dragged my feet, was glad when I had to miss our meeting but only because I was feeling so guilty for not meeting my end of the deal: going on OKCupid. About two weeks after our initial deadline, I finally went on. I hadn't been on in five months and I had only one message. I didn't mind it too much, I still hadn't posted a picture and, to be honest, wasn't actually all that interested in finding someone. I told myself I was only going on there to find a date and I was only finding a date because I had made a deal with a friend.
I looked over my profile, checked to see if I needed to add anything, and decided that I really needed to post a picture. I searched my laptop, found a reasonable one, and posted it. And then I immediately signed out.
I laughed at myself for this- how scared I was about someone actually seeing my picture and messaging me. I wasn't sure what I thought was going to happen but I still found it amusing that I was apparently interested enough to post a photo but equally terrified of anyone responding to it.
The following week, I decided to go on again. I knew that I had to keep up my deal to go on a date every other Saturday and the only way I could do it was to find someone to ask out and OKCupid seemed like the only place to ask someone.
I looked in my list of matches and saw a guy who looked cute. On his profile he said that on a typical Friday night, he would go to a restaurant, alone, and strike up a conversation with the people at the table next to him. I thought that was pretty cool so I looked at the rest of his profile. He lived in the South Bay and was only interested in dating people who lived near him. I messaged him anyway, telling myself that I was just being honest, expressing my interest, not being limited by his profile saying that he was only interested in dating locally. And then I immediately signed out again, afraid that he might actually message me back.
As soon as I got off, I imagined telling my therapist about this- about how I had actually messaged someone on OKCupid. And then I imagined her response: You messaged the guy who you knew wasn't interested in dating you because you lived far away. You found the guy who was unavailable and expressed interest in him. That worked out really well for you, didn't it? You didn't take a risk and any rejection on his part can be easily chalked up to distance, not you." And then she reminded me- it's intimacy that you're afraid of, not rejection. You're avoiding intimacy but pretending like you're avoiding rejection. Darn her...
That Friday night, I had dinner with a friend and shared with her my antics on OKCupid. She said that when she was on there, she would try to send 12 messages a month. She explained that it was like playing darts: if you've only got one dart in your hand, you're all nervous and you feel like you only have this one shot to hit the target. But if you have 10 darts in your hand, you just start throwing them, and if you're lucky, you get a bull's eye. (She also said that people don't message back all the time and you just can't take it personally)
And she was totally right! If I was sending out three messages a week, I wouldn't care so much about what happened, I was just sending messages but if I was actually sending only one, with this intent of hitting a bull's eye? I'd go crazy and over analyze and over think and be all disappointed in the lack of returns.
So, I decided to follow her advice and send three message each week- just to throw a dart out of my hand, not so much to try to hit a bull's eye.
OkCupid- those questions...
This post was written way back in March, about a week after I wrote the first post about OKCupid.
About a week later, I decided to go back on to OkCupid. I realized that if I wanted to meet someone, I needed to answer those questions and actually spend time on the site. As soon as I got on, I looked to see what had happened while I had been gone: nothing. I had two messages, but they were from the "owner" or "designer" of OkCupid or something, not an actual message. I was a little sad about this at first, but then I realized that I had no photo, and had only answered one question. I don't think I would have visited me either.
So, I started answering questions. It was interesting; each time that you answered a question, this little percentage point thing on the right hand side of the site increased. I think it was showing your chances for meeting a match, and I was a little surprised to see how motivated I was by it. Each time I answered, it went up a little more, and it went up pretty quickly. At one point, I was somewhere around 95% and I kept answering questions just to get to 100%. I think I wanted to be done, to be secure, to be guaranteed that I had done my part to make a match and that now it was up to OkCupid. (I also think I wanted an A). But the thing was, the closer I got to 100%, the slower the thing increased. Whereas before, it would go up 2 or 3 percentage points with one question, now it would go up a tenth of a percent for every three questions I answered. That was when I realized I was never going to get there and that it was just a way for the site to get you to answer questions- darnit!
The other interesting thing was my response to the questions and answers themselves. Each time that you answer, you also mark what answer you would accept from another and whether or not the question is important to you. For the most part, I didn't really care what the other person answered, I was pretty happy with people who didn't really have opinions one way or another, I kind of wanted them to be non- judgmental. So each time, they kept marking my questions as unimportant because I would accept any answer. They seemed kind of annoyed with me for this, like they were looking for questions that I actually cared about, and I wasn't offering up any.
But the other thing that came up for me was this focus on "matching." I noticed that this site was all about finding someone who was just like you. And I thought that was kind of silly. Maybe I'd been in zen practice for too long but to me, it seemed, that you wouldn't really want someone exactly like you. It seemed like the whole point of life was finding the beauty in our differences, from learning from each other, from struggling around where we didn't meet and, I guess, that was actually where we found how similar we were.
So I decided that we needed a new site- not one where you found matches, but where people were just their honest selves and we could just see each other just-as-we-are. My friend and I decided to call it Z date with the tagline: Come as you are, see others just as they are. I think we said that we couldn't promise true love but we could promise true people.
It never came to fruition but I still think it's a good idea.
About a week later, I decided to go back on to OkCupid. I realized that if I wanted to meet someone, I needed to answer those questions and actually spend time on the site. As soon as I got on, I looked to see what had happened while I had been gone: nothing. I had two messages, but they were from the "owner" or "designer" of OkCupid or something, not an actual message. I was a little sad about this at first, but then I realized that I had no photo, and had only answered one question. I don't think I would have visited me either.
So, I started answering questions. It was interesting; each time that you answered a question, this little percentage point thing on the right hand side of the site increased. I think it was showing your chances for meeting a match, and I was a little surprised to see how motivated I was by it. Each time I answered, it went up a little more, and it went up pretty quickly. At one point, I was somewhere around 95% and I kept answering questions just to get to 100%. I think I wanted to be done, to be secure, to be guaranteed that I had done my part to make a match and that now it was up to OkCupid. (I also think I wanted an A). But the thing was, the closer I got to 100%, the slower the thing increased. Whereas before, it would go up 2 or 3 percentage points with one question, now it would go up a tenth of a percent for every three questions I answered. That was when I realized I was never going to get there and that it was just a way for the site to get you to answer questions- darnit!
The other interesting thing was my response to the questions and answers themselves. Each time that you answer, you also mark what answer you would accept from another and whether or not the question is important to you. For the most part, I didn't really care what the other person answered, I was pretty happy with people who didn't really have opinions one way or another, I kind of wanted them to be non- judgmental. So each time, they kept marking my questions as unimportant because I would accept any answer. They seemed kind of annoyed with me for this, like they were looking for questions that I actually cared about, and I wasn't offering up any.
But the other thing that came up for me was this focus on "matching." I noticed that this site was all about finding someone who was just like you. And I thought that was kind of silly. Maybe I'd been in zen practice for too long but to me, it seemed, that you wouldn't really want someone exactly like you. It seemed like the whole point of life was finding the beauty in our differences, from learning from each other, from struggling around where we didn't meet and, I guess, that was actually where we found how similar we were.
So I decided that we needed a new site- not one where you found matches, but where people were just their honest selves and we could just see each other just-as-we-are. My friend and I decided to call it Z date with the tagline: Come as you are, see others just as they are. I think we said that we couldn't promise true love but we could promise true people.
It never came to fruition but I still think it's a good idea.
Why the third time is the charm: (F%#* it)
I was thinking about why the third time is the charm, and here's what I think.
I think that the first time, we have all these ideas about what it should be, what the outcome is, how it should look in the end. And when we do it, it doesn't match, so we think we did it wrong.
But then we decide that we learned from the first time. So we make all these changes to match this new understanding and we try it a second time, with this expectation that this time, this time it will be different because we're doing it this way.
And then that doesn't work either.
So then we say to ourselves F%#* it. When I tried it the first way, it didn't work. And the other way didn't work either. So I might as well give up because no matter what I try, it doesn't work.
And then we do it.
And then it works.
Not because it works, but because we said F&%* it, because we went in to it having no expectation with it being a certain way. We gave in, we said "I can't make it work, I'm just gonna take whatever I get."
and voila- that's the charm.
I think that the first time, we have all these ideas about what it should be, what the outcome is, how it should look in the end. And when we do it, it doesn't match, so we think we did it wrong.
But then we decide that we learned from the first time. So we make all these changes to match this new understanding and we try it a second time, with this expectation that this time, this time it will be different because we're doing it this way.
And then that doesn't work either.
So then we say to ourselves F%#* it. When I tried it the first way, it didn't work. And the other way didn't work either. So I might as well give up because no matter what I try, it doesn't work.
And then we do it.
And then it works.
Not because it works, but because we said F&%* it, because we went in to it having no expectation with it being a certain way. We gave in, we said "I can't make it work, I'm just gonna take whatever I get."
and voila- that's the charm.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
NoTHING to worry about
School starts tomorrow. Actually, school starts in a matter of hours. I should be worried. I should be planning the day, rehearsing it in my head. At the very least, I should be in my classroom doing last minute things to make sure that tomorrow, the first day of school, goes perfectly.
But I'm not.
And in a nutshell, here's why:
There is no perfect.
There is no first day.
What happens tomorrow is totally out of my control. And even if it were in my control, there isn't an actual FIRST DAY that I could make. There is no RIGHT first day of school. The only first day of school that I can have is the one that I'm going to have tomorrow. And the only way that I can make it "right" is to be responsive to it, to make harmony with it, to not fight it or try to make it one way or another- to simply be in it, fully.
And I can't do that, today, on my couch, at my computer. I can't do that until tomorrow, when there are 22 eight year olds looking at me. And all I can do tomorrow is respond to them- openly and generously- to see them, just as they are. And to see myself and our room and what happens in it, just as it is.
I do have intentions for tomorrow. My goal is for the kids to make a friend (or at least feel like they know someone) and to like school enough that they want to come back the next day. That's all. And I've prepared for that- I've designed games to help them get to know each other and I've planned lessons in which I believe the students will feel competent, that they actually can succeed in school. Those things, I have covered.
But other than that, I'm not planning or scheming or trying to control anything else, because I can't.
The other thing I'm seeing- when I do start to worry- is that it will be fine. Even if something horrible happens, we will respond to it, we will exist with it, it will happen, regardless of us. And we can make peace with it, experience it, and be with it, together. I know this is true because I have experienced things, with 22 third graders, and we do make it through. And often, those are our best times. But mostly, I know, that we will be fine.
So I am off to bake cookies, because that does need to get done. It needs to get done because on Tuesday, I tell the kids about how chocolate chip cookies were a mistake and that if the baker had thrown them out instead of just trying them to see how they were, chocolate chip cookies wouldn't exist. And then of course I have to give them cookies. How can you talk about the importance of chocolate chip cookies and not give them out?
So I am off- not to worry, but to bake instead.
But I'm not.
And in a nutshell, here's why:
There is no perfect.
There is no first day.
What happens tomorrow is totally out of my control. And even if it were in my control, there isn't an actual FIRST DAY that I could make. There is no RIGHT first day of school. The only first day of school that I can have is the one that I'm going to have tomorrow. And the only way that I can make it "right" is to be responsive to it, to make harmony with it, to not fight it or try to make it one way or another- to simply be in it, fully.
And I can't do that, today, on my couch, at my computer. I can't do that until tomorrow, when there are 22 eight year olds looking at me. And all I can do tomorrow is respond to them- openly and generously- to see them, just as they are. And to see myself and our room and what happens in it, just as it is.
I do have intentions for tomorrow. My goal is for the kids to make a friend (or at least feel like they know someone) and to like school enough that they want to come back the next day. That's all. And I've prepared for that- I've designed games to help them get to know each other and I've planned lessons in which I believe the students will feel competent, that they actually can succeed in school. Those things, I have covered.
But other than that, I'm not planning or scheming or trying to control anything else, because I can't.
The other thing I'm seeing- when I do start to worry- is that it will be fine. Even if something horrible happens, we will respond to it, we will exist with it, it will happen, regardless of us. And we can make peace with it, experience it, and be with it, together. I know this is true because I have experienced things, with 22 third graders, and we do make it through. And often, those are our best times. But mostly, I know, that we will be fine.
So I am off to bake cookies, because that does need to get done. It needs to get done because on Tuesday, I tell the kids about how chocolate chip cookies were a mistake and that if the baker had thrown them out instead of just trying them to see how they were, chocolate chip cookies wouldn't exist. And then of course I have to give them cookies. How can you talk about the importance of chocolate chip cookies and not give them out?
So I am off- not to worry, but to bake instead.
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