kd0602

This week has been packed to the gills, overflowing with meetings, a flight to SFO on Wednesday (after leaving a meeting early) for a conference on Thursday, another flight home late Thursday for a full day of teaching on Friday and then capped this morning with the 17th annual San Diego Area Writing Project (SDAWP) Spring Conference.

As you might imagine, I was not excited that I needed to be up early this morning and on the road before 7am to be present at the university, helping with set up and preparation. Today’s hiccup was catering not showing up! (What! No coffee for teachers who are up early navigating UCSD parking for our half-day conference?). After several calls we were assured that coffee and pastries would arrive–not when expected, but before it would have been too late.

And as always happens when I am in the presence of writing project teachers, I forgot how much I didn’t want to get up, how much I would have loved a morning with a leisurely start, and was immediately engaged and stimulated by presentations and conversations…and just seeing colleagues who are brilliant and caring and always looking after what is best for their students.

Sessions like Writing for Change: Empowering Student Advocacy Through Project-Based Learning, Academic Writing with Heart: Centering Student Voice, and Hope Starter Kit: Writing Our Way to Resilience (to name only a few) offered inspiration, intellectual stimulation, ideas for classroom implementation, and an opportunity for writing. It also offered an escape from all that feels wrong right now.

As part of my hope kit writing, I had to figure out who (someone real or imagined, still living or long dead) to address a problem I was grappling with–the idea that each of us could tap our inner wisdom through this letter writing/response (inspired by the book Ask Baba Yaga: Otherworldly Advice for Everyday Troubles by Taisia Kitaiskaia). I decided that I would channel my cat, Phil, who died quite a few years ago, but who my husband is convinced still hangs around the house. Here’s my letter and response:

Dear Phil,

How do I manage the guilt of not doing enough to take action in light of all of the chaos and destruction in our current government?

Distraught Citizen

Dear Distraught Citizen,

Screech and roar and scratch…and even pretend to mark the walls and furniture with the scent of your body and beliefs in your spaces. Don’t let your perceived inaction silence you. Rub your scent subtly, weaving in and out of the pant legs of those who are near. Find pockets of comfort, places where the rumble of your inner motor can vibrate, offering moments of relief and contentment for you and others as well. In addition to comforting one another, find the small cracks for action, even if they seem to be big enough for only the tiniest grains of sand.

Phil

Channeling Phil reminds me (and maybe you too) that action can manifest in many different ways. I will keep seeking out all the small spaces where I can make a difference. You likely won’t find me on the picket line or the telephone bank, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care or won’t take actions to right the wrongs that are happening. Thanks to my colleague Stacey for the inspiration and to Phil for the advice.

I woke up on this first day of 2025 to a blog post written by my friend Molly. She talked about the ways she invokes luck and good fortune at the beginning of a new month–and a new year. She woke this morning saying, “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” a sure sign of good things to come (and heard her husband muttering it even before she was fully conscious). And then she talked about paying attention to the first bird, and essentially “reading” it to determine what qualities it might portend for the new year.

I didn’t wake up with the word rabbit on my mind, and the idea of birds flew out of my brain well before rising from my cozy bed this morning. Our plans for the day were to meet family at the beach around noon–when things began to warm up a bit. Only it really didn’t. Our short drive from home to the beach took us from the sunshine into a thick coating of coastal overcast–and it was downright cold! (At least by SoCal standards)

After a couple of vigorous games of beach paddleball, 8 year olds chasing waves in puffer jackets, swim trunks, and bare feet (typical winter beach attire), a tidepool mishap that resulted in a painful scrape and tears…and an early exit from the beach, we were left to our own devices. So we headed out to lunch where we discussed our need to still fit a walk into our day. We had resigned ourselves to walking our neighborhood until Geoff suggested heading back to the beach–one a couple of miles north of where we were earlier–to do our walking.

The tide was heading toward low–and a good negative tide that would leave tidepools uncovered–my favorite condition for walking. The sun began to peek out as it headed down closer to the horizon. The best tidepools are about a mile from the parking lot where we parked (you can get there from a closer lot–but we needed the walk). Loads of people were out at the beach today–maybe for their own New Year’s traditions.

I walked out onto the reef, noticing the usual sea anemones and tiny crabs. My attention was drawn by a conversation overheard about an octopus, and I headed in that direction. I noticed a tween girl with a large seastar in her hand–and also noticed several other smaller seastars in the pool where she was standing. I frequently look for seastars in the tidepools and seldom find any, so this felt special. The young girl was quite enthusiastic and encouraged me to take a photo of the seastar in her hand. Of course I obliged and took a number of photos of those gorgeous orange echinoderms.

As I observed the seastars and took my photos, I couldn’t help thinking about the good fortune of seeing this elusive creature on the first day of the year. Google offers that seastars represent a striving for peace and harmony and the ability to accomplish great things when you set your mind to it. For me, seastars embody flexibility and the superpower that allows them to regenerate when faced with hardship–a certain kind of resilience. All of these seem like qualities our world needs right now.

And to add frosting to the cake, as I walked away from the seastars (the the young girl carefully settled them back into their tidepool habitat), I noticed a couple peering closely under the ledge nearby. He was shining a flashlight, pointing out where a small octopus was hunkered down. I moved closer and he shined the light again so I could see–and to be honest, I wasn’t seeing anything. So I asked, “What am I looking for to see the octopus?” He then pointed out the eye and the way the octopus was wrapped around the ledge. Then I could see that expertly camouflaged creature–even if it wasn’t in a position to be photographed! Sometimes you just have to look with your eyes and snap that memory into your mind–and maybe blog about it to remember it again later!

I’m holding that seastar in my mind and heart as a symbol of good luck on this first day of 2025 and reminding myself of the power of wonder and curiosity…and playfulness. Let’s push back against darkness and strive for peace, empathy, and care as we continue to move through this new year.