The lesson from Bear's bank . . .

At Christmas, Bear (my eight year old son) received one of those money jar bank thingies that tallies your coin total as you add each piece of change.  He loved it immediately!  He loves the size - it's bigger than many I've seen - and he digs watching his grand total go up and up, as he scavenges our home, pocket, car and seat cushions for spare coins.  He has become quite adept at expert coin recovery.

His excitement is palpable.  We have all become his little assistants; all of us quick to dash over to him with found coins.  The spare change from pockets that once spent a night or two in a little pile on the counter, no longer stops there.  The coins go into his bank - period.

And now we all find ourselves thinking, "I'll give this little pile of coins to Bear" or "You can just give the spare change to him."  His eagerness has even manifested in gifts of coin bags from afar - my father often comes in and hands him a heavy zip-loc, full of coins.  His zest for the savings project has made us all part of the team!

Bear's bank has had me thinking.  I've had a bit of a 'If you build it, they will come' kind of eye-opening.  A few days ago, as I reached for a pile of change, thinking I'd give them to the coin jar project, I thought about how easily and effectively his whole plan was working.  I began to consider how and why Bear got us so eager to help.  It got me wondering how his set-up has worked out.

He is authentically excited about what he is doing.  He let us all know what he wanted.  We know it is good for him to fill his jar and get the money into his savings account over at the bank.  He has made it easy for us to help and he is thankful when we do.  He didn't beg us for the money, but we got caught up in his excitement.

Bear's bank is a good analogy for me.  It's a picture I can hold in my mind for wishes and dreams.  I can think about his little, plastic counting bank and remember that it is okay to ask for help - that it makes sense to share big projects with those around me.  The bank is helping me remember to set things up so that success is fun and measurable, little by little.  I like watching my son and his fun project.  It makes me hopeful about dreams to come.  

. . . what comes naturally.

It's raining today where I am - it's yucky and gray and foggy.  The morning was dark, and it was hard to leave the comfy bed.  You know that kind of morning, the kind where you need to see something in your mind's eye that encourages you to 'take the first step' down off the bed?  I quickly got that picture in my head this morning; I remembered what I was to do later today.

In just a bit, I'm off to work on an art project with sixteen four year olds.  Some of you may hear that and feel a little sick in the pit of your stomach.  Don't feel that way, though.  Read on.  I encourage you to try something similar.  (You can even try it with adults if you can find some willing and daring enough!)

I'm convinced - and there is nothing you can say or show me to change my mind - that we all arrive on this earth loving certain things.  I believe we all begin our life loving a few things artful - dancing and singing and painting and creating.  I can almost feel a few of you getting a bit nervous; you're thinking I'm about to suggest something crazy, something like how creative we all are, something outlandish.  You're right!

Check out the nearest tiny person.  Watch them.  Listen to them.  Ask them to dance and they will, regardless of the music choice.  Ask them to sing, and they will sing out without worry about pitch or volume or tune.  Give them some objects, anything really, and ask them to create something.  They will and it will probably blow your mind.  There will be a story with all sorts of detail and the child will probably have entered a new world by the time they begin to tell you about it all.  Give the same child a stick and a patch of dirt and she will draw the most magnificent mansion.  Give him a paintbrush, and you don't even have to give him any paints - he can create without it.  He might use water on the side of the swimming pool and paint on the cement.  It doesn't matter to a child; it's just fun to 'make something.'

You see, that's what is so refreshing about working with children.   They don't have all of the crazy boundaries that we have built around our selves that tell us not to try.  If he wants to sing, he does!  If she wants to dance, she does!  If they want to paint, they do and it doesn't matter what they paint.  The process is fun, and they aren't painting for anyone else.  They are painting because it feels good, because it makes them feel alive, because it is beautiful.

I'm looking forward to my art time with the kids.  I bet when I give them the paintbrushes and show them the empty canvas, there won't be any hesitation.  The only question will probably be, "where do you want me to start?"  One of them will giggle while she's painting because she feels happy inside.  One of them will probably sing because that's what he does when he feels excited and alive.  A couple of them will probably just talk and talk, without any regard to whether or not anyone is listening.  I'll probably be smiling most of the time.

Take a second and imagine all that we could do - you and I - if we didn't stop ourselves before we even began.  Imagine how much fun it would be if we sang when we wanted to or danced around, without regard to what others thought.  I know some of you may be bristling now.  Don't though.  Just take a second and think about trying something.  Try something out of your ordinary - outside of your box.  Try doing something that your three year old self did whenever she wanted.  Try it!

Just imagine . . .

How to install a firepole of Love . . .

                                                            How to install a firepole!

I've known this great guy, Tom (well he's Chris to me, but that's another story) since he was about ten.  I taught with his Mom and know his incredibly cool family well.  For years, he was the neat son of my good friend; and then, lo and behold, he grew up and he went to college and he became a teacher!  I was teaching in Atlanta at the time and knew that he MUST work at Garden Hills Elementary with me.  I did a lot of marketing about our great school to him and did my best to explain to the principal how wonderful, creative and tremendous he was.  This just wouldn't be a good story if he didn't get the job, which he did.  (He told me later that I had given enough rave reviews that he would have gotten the job even if he had showed up to the interview naked with streamers flying out of his butt -  envision that if you'd like.)

Fast forward a bit and we are both happily teaching together.  It was fun to teach alongside of Tom, after I had done the same with his awesome Mom years before.

Another way to make this a great story we need to introduce "the girl" to the story, right?  Well, that I can do.  A couple of floors down from Tom and right beside my classroom was Shael, the beautiful, funny, bright heroine of the story.  Tom and Shael became good friends, like the rest of us.  Then 'the rest of us' noticed that their friendship was a little different - they had done it - taken the plunge - fallen in love!  For reasons I can't remember (I really wanted to so that I could step in as a hero) I bragged often about 'setting them up.' I guess I put together recommending Tom for the job and being friends with Shael as, well, as . . . Deana, you're responsible for the whole thing - good job, girl!

Now fast forward a bunch of years, maybe twelve or fifteen, to Indianapolis, Indiana.  They have created a groovy life there, with their two kids, Lily and Cole.  They do cool things together.  They have fun.  I often hear about what the two of them are up to and think to myself, "They've got the right idea - they're putting the emphasis where it matters - they get it - they're having fun and showing those two lucky kids what life is about."  It's always fun to hear what's up at their house, always inspiring.

Like many, I have a love/hate relationship with facebook.  There is plenty negative to list, but this is not the place for that.  There is a lot of good, too, and that is what this story is about.  I planted myself in front of the computer the other night to check in, pointed the browser to fb, and I smiled for the next five minutes!  The first update I saw was "How to install a Firepole" and the smile hit my face - I knew I'd love the photos - I knew it!

I was right.  I did love the photos and the witty commentary and the idea and the humor and the craftiness and the creativity and the LOVE!  You will, too.  I promise.  So, here is your homework (and it's fun) click on the link below.  DO IT.  You'll enjoy it.

I don't know much about woodwork or carpentry.  I never measure anything.  I'm not great at projects that involve both beginnings and endings.  Maybe you are.  Maybe you can peruse the photos and captions and then you can install your own firepole.  That would be awesome!

Most likely, I won't get to that.  I won't forget the 'firepole' lesson, though.  I won't.  I looked at those photos, I thought about those sweet people, I smiled and I saw LOVE.  I thought about those two kids.  Thought about how proud they must be of those 'out of the box' parents.  Thought about all of the giddy kids that will visit in the future and how much fun they'll have.  Thought about a Daddy spending all of those hours on that project.  Those photos said, "we love you."

I'm thinking now about 'firepole' projects I can do, we can do.  I'm wondering about the times that my actions show my loved ones how much I care.  We can't all pull off what my buddies did.  But we have different talents, leanings, loves.  Maybe we can come up with our own projects, our own firepoles of love.

                                                HOW TO INSTALL A FIREPOLE!