This journal is a place to explore the delightful interconnection of reading, writing, teaching, and living. I hope you find inspiration and space to slow down and take a deep breath!
Someone has eaten all the M&Ms out of the Costco bag of trail mix.
Swimsuits are drying on the deck railing.
Every decision—bike ride? swimming? trip to village for smoothies?—is a negotiation between fourteen stakeholders between the ages of 3 and 65.
Mom learns something on a news website and goes from room to room and tells everyone. “Did you know today is the anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing?”
Read MoreMy friend Lisa and I were talking about books the other day, and when I said how much I loved Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry, she lit up — “Oh, Grandpa Wendell!!” Now I can’t think of him any other way. :) One of his poems, “How To Be A Poet (to remind myself)” is SO GOOD, and anytime I use it in class, students quietly and instinctively lean in. There’s a feeling that we’re hearing wise and instructive words. Afterward, I invite them to write a poem of their own based on Grandpa Wendell’s example. So here’s his poem, followed by the prompt . . .
Read MoreA long time ago, when my boys were in elementary school, we drove home from school on a really windy day—the trees bent sideways, the car shook with every big gust, and traffic lights swung from their wires. Leaves swirled everywhere. At a red light, a bunch of crows blew over the intersection like scraps of black paper.
Read MoreI’ve been reading The How of Happiness by Sonja Lyubomirsky after a colleague at Pacific University used it in a first year humanities class. Students loved the writing style, the science-based content, and the practical suggestions.
Lately I’ve been practicing one of Lyubomirsky’s many “happiness-enhancing” activities: Savoring Life’s Joys. It’s basically slowing down to notice and absorb whatever goodness is unfolding in the present moment.
There’s a parenting book called All Joy and No Fun, and though I haven’t read it, I’ve always loved how the title reminds me that joy and fun aren’t the same thing. In fact … at least in my experience … “savoring life’s joys” usually comes tinged with sadness.
Read MoreA friend told me that auto-correct is like an elf who wants to help except he’s drunk. The latest batch of emails and essays from students are covered with drunk-elf fingerprints. They make up words like “multiplitude” and “exuberated”. They don’t notice when autocorrect turns “conservation” into “conversation”, “meditation" into “mediation”, or “baked” into “naked”. Last week I got this email from a student:
“Hi, Jenna,
I woke up feeling pretty light headed and had a super bag soar throat. I won’t be in class today, is there anything I need to do to have all my dicks in a row on Friday?”
Read MoreA long time ago, when my sons were small, I learned to love poetry because I didn’t have time to read anything else. I tacked poems over the kitchen sink and read them over and over, letting them wash through me.
I love poems for their smallness, their substance, their portability. I love that they pack so much meaning into such a tiny shape. When life feels crowded and rushed, looking at a poem is like taking a slow, deep breath. I’m soothed by the language and by the shapes of the words surrounded by white space … even when I’m not always sure what the poem is about.
Read MoreIn case you’re wondering about the beautiful pictures on my website, I have to tell you about two of my very talented and generous friends . . .
Sarah Morgan designed the site and took all the photos for the site itself, and Nathan Towry took the pictures that accompany these journal entries. :)
Read MoreI woke myself up last night, talking in my sleep, telling the bible story about Mary and Martha that I’d heard so many times as a girl. But in the dark, in the unguarded place of sleep and dreams, I understood the story in a new way …
Read MoreI used to associate the word “practice” with a a skill—like dribbling, passing, or running lines when I played soccer. Constant repetition was part of becoming a better athlete.
When I took piano lessons, I practiced piano. When I took ballet lessons, I practiced ballet. Eventually the practicing leaked into regular life. I found myself humming the scales or standing in third position when I was in line at the grocery store.
Read MoreLast week in a yoga class the teacher said to “find the place between ease and effort” while moving through the poses. I laughed. Does that elusive place even exist? A sweet spot where I’m trying, but not too hard? Where I’m resting, but not too much?
Read MoreEvery day is full of thresholds—from being asleep to being awake, from being at home to being in the car, from being in the car to being in the classroom. “Being” is an instructive word here, since my sense of being is affected (in subtle and not-so-subtle ways) by this constant crossing of thresholds.
Read MoreI’m deep in the weeds with Midterm papers. More show up every day. No matter how many I grade, the stack keeps growing. I’ve been up past midnight all week, trying to catch up, telling myself that it’s totally possible to be a teacher and also have a life, but I swear the evidence isn’t good.
Read MoreLast year I had six Hawaiian wrestlers in an 8:30am writing class. This year I have six basketball players, four wrestlers, and two track stars. EN 101 and 200 are required, which means a) the students have to be there, and b) they’d almost always rather be sleeping or watching Netflix.
Read MoreThe short story is that my Subaru got stolen AGAIN, and then I found it six blocks from home. This time the thieves took my laundry out of the backseat (I had it loaded up for a trip to the laundromat). They left the car and took the laundry. Goodbye, navy skirt with sailboats on it. Goodbye flannel-soft blue hoodie. Goodbye, t-shirts.
Read MoreMy boys are eleven and thirteen and being their mom is like visiting another country. I have never been an adolescent male. I don’t speak the language and the customs are a mystery.
Read More
