I write this as June winds to a close. By the time it is read, July will have been welcomed in, with festivities of Canada Day wrapping up, and the long lazy days of summer beginning. I can’t help but think of June as the end of the year. Spending more than fifty years of my life in a classroom created a strong pattern. For those of us residing in the world of education, June will likely always signify the end of year, and September the beginning.
I love this.
When the real end of year arrives, on December 31st, although the media is filled with ideas for us to reflect on our past year and make wishes and resolutions for the one ahead, I always find I can never think back much further than Christmas, and often by the following season, I forget what it was I was going to change.
June is different.
As a teacher, June was the perfect opportunity for reflection. Anyone not in education, or not living with an educator cannot fully understand this month. It’s challenging, exhausting, emotional, exciting, difficult, and exhilarating. Often teachers don’t know whether they should laugh or cry. While it is a crazy, crazy, busy month for teachers, educational assistants, and administration, it’s also the perfect month for looking back. Working in the subject of mathematics where end of year cumulative exams are the norm, the very structure of organizing a review for the students, always sent me back over the year, recalling what I had taught and trying to refresh the students minds with everything they had learned. From their point of view, I was likely simply looking at content and trying to make sure we covered everything. But from my perspective, I examined the order of the units, the flow from one to the next, and the difficulty of each one in comparison to the time of year it was presented. December was a good time for easier content, and January was always a good time to introduce that which was more difficult. I looked at which lessons hit the mark, and which could use an overhaul. I looked at what was most enjoyed and what felt like work. I looked at results and recalled when things felt like they flowed versus when the learning just felt tough. The reflection brought me deeper too, into thinking about the students as individuals. I pondered where I had been successful in connecting with the students in my care, and where I wished I had either had more time or taken more notice. I thought about how I made spaces for students to feel like they belonged, and about which new spaces were waiting to be created.
At my school we always ended the year with an elaborate Awards Night, a time to come together as a community and to celebrate the hard work and achievements of the students. It was an incredible amount of work to organize, and it was so, so worth the effort. That evening felt like the bow that neatly tied up the year, it caused us to pause, amidst all the busyness, to appreciate our successes.
Having been away from that world for almost a decade, I still find my mind moving through the same routine this June. I don’t have any lesson plans to review or any final exam to create, I don’t have an awards night to help organize, I don’t have phone calls to make to parents, and I don’t have report cards to fill out. But I do have another trip around the sun behind me and it seems a shame to start on the next revolution without taking a minute to reflect on both the joys and challenges of the last year, and to wonder to myself if I have become closer to who I hope to be, or if I mistakenly got sidetracked.
Surprisingly, my bike trek through Yukon and Alaska, gave me some clarity on this. For the record, I was not thinking about it as I pedaled along. My conscious thoughts during the event were mostly around how to get up the next hill. I also had a mental list of people I reflected on during each stage of my ride. Since the race was officially in eight stages, I broke my life into eight equal parts and thought about significant people and events from each part of my life as I made my way through each stage. I did it as a mind game, simply a way to pass the time, yet often I found myself smiling as I reflected on my memories.
I did not expect this to have a significant impact on me. I was so wrong. Our minds have an incredible desire to create order, even when we are not aware. That’s just what mine did as I pedalled along. This week, post race, I’ve suddenly had amazing clarity. My world is more vivid. In particular, the people, activities, things, and ideas that are important to me are in clear focus. Things that irritate me, throw me off course, distract me, and make me feel less me, are diminished. The little voice that loves to remind me of my deficiencies is quiet. The future looks spacious, having plenty of room for both me and the people and things I love.
I don’t think we need a full day bike trip to gain clarity. We do need time for our minds to quiet, time to sit in nature, or engage in something that takes our mind away from our regular thoughts, and time to let all the jigsaw pieces in our heads to wiggle around and fit together to create a clear picture of possibility for us. In my case, I can’t quite see the picture, but I definitely know what it feels like. On Canada Day this year, the first day of July, I’ll be dancing. Yes, I love the music. I love the movement. I love surprising a crowd. But most of all, I love how I feel when I am with these women; accepted, confident, included, supported, and celebrated. I plan to fill my life with more things that bring me such joy, and I hope to add that joyfulness to the lives of those I touch.
By the way, just for the record, the bike trip was not all serious thinking. It dawned on me as I pedalled along that this year my age is a perfect square. So is that of my son. And while that got me excited, I almost fell right off my bike when I figured out that this had happened once before too, when he was 9 and I was 36. Oh, the joy in the little things😊 The girl who always got excited about math is still alive and well inside me after all.
Summer’s here. I’m taking the next couple of months away from this blog to refresh and enjoy my time with Jim and my family.
May you too refresh yourself, surround yourself with people and things that delight you, and find time to organize a few pieces of the picture of your life.
Happy Summer!
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to find out how to find clarity in your business or life.
I love this.
When the real end of year arrives, on December 31st, although the media is filled with ideas for us to reflect on our past year and make wishes and resolutions for the one ahead, I always find I can never think back much further than Christmas, and often by the following season, I forget what it was I was going to change.
June is different.
As a teacher, June was the perfect opportunity for reflection. Anyone not in education, or not living with an educator cannot fully understand this month. It’s challenging, exhausting, emotional, exciting, difficult, and exhilarating. Often teachers don’t know whether they should laugh or cry. While it is a crazy, crazy, busy month for teachers, educational assistants, and administration, it’s also the perfect month for looking back. Working in the subject of mathematics where end of year cumulative exams are the norm, the very structure of organizing a review for the students, always sent me back over the year, recalling what I had taught and trying to refresh the students minds with everything they had learned. From their point of view, I was likely simply looking at content and trying to make sure we covered everything. But from my perspective, I examined the order of the units, the flow from one to the next, and the difficulty of each one in comparison to the time of year it was presented. December was a good time for easier content, and January was always a good time to introduce that which was more difficult. I looked at which lessons hit the mark, and which could use an overhaul. I looked at what was most enjoyed and what felt like work. I looked at results and recalled when things felt like they flowed versus when the learning just felt tough. The reflection brought me deeper too, into thinking about the students as individuals. I pondered where I had been successful in connecting with the students in my care, and where I wished I had either had more time or taken more notice. I thought about how I made spaces for students to feel like they belonged, and about which new spaces were waiting to be created.
At my school we always ended the year with an elaborate Awards Night, a time to come together as a community and to celebrate the hard work and achievements of the students. It was an incredible amount of work to organize, and it was so, so worth the effort. That evening felt like the bow that neatly tied up the year, it caused us to pause, amidst all the busyness, to appreciate our successes.
Having been away from that world for almost a decade, I still find my mind moving through the same routine this June. I don’t have any lesson plans to review or any final exam to create, I don’t have an awards night to help organize, I don’t have phone calls to make to parents, and I don’t have report cards to fill out. But I do have another trip around the sun behind me and it seems a shame to start on the next revolution without taking a minute to reflect on both the joys and challenges of the last year, and to wonder to myself if I have become closer to who I hope to be, or if I mistakenly got sidetracked.
Surprisingly, my bike trek through Yukon and Alaska, gave me some clarity on this. For the record, I was not thinking about it as I pedaled along. My conscious thoughts during the event were mostly around how to get up the next hill. I also had a mental list of people I reflected on during each stage of my ride. Since the race was officially in eight stages, I broke my life into eight equal parts and thought about significant people and events from each part of my life as I made my way through each stage. I did it as a mind game, simply a way to pass the time, yet often I found myself smiling as I reflected on my memories.
I did not expect this to have a significant impact on me. I was so wrong. Our minds have an incredible desire to create order, even when we are not aware. That’s just what mine did as I pedalled along. This week, post race, I’ve suddenly had amazing clarity. My world is more vivid. In particular, the people, activities, things, and ideas that are important to me are in clear focus. Things that irritate me, throw me off course, distract me, and make me feel less me, are diminished. The little voice that loves to remind me of my deficiencies is quiet. The future looks spacious, having plenty of room for both me and the people and things I love.
I don’t think we need a full day bike trip to gain clarity. We do need time for our minds to quiet, time to sit in nature, or engage in something that takes our mind away from our regular thoughts, and time to let all the jigsaw pieces in our heads to wiggle around and fit together to create a clear picture of possibility for us. In my case, I can’t quite see the picture, but I definitely know what it feels like. On Canada Day this year, the first day of July, I’ll be dancing. Yes, I love the music. I love the movement. I love surprising a crowd. But most of all, I love how I feel when I am with these women; accepted, confident, included, supported, and celebrated. I plan to fill my life with more things that bring me such joy, and I hope to add that joyfulness to the lives of those I touch.
By the way, just for the record, the bike trip was not all serious thinking. It dawned on me as I pedalled along that this year my age is a perfect square. So is that of my son. And while that got me excited, I almost fell right off my bike when I figured out that this had happened once before too, when he was 9 and I was 36. Oh, the joy in the little things😊 The girl who always got excited about math is still alive and well inside me after all.
Summer’s here. I’m taking the next couple of months away from this blog to refresh and enjoy my time with Jim and my family.
May you too refresh yourself, surround yourself with people and things that delight you, and find time to organize a few pieces of the picture of your life.
Happy Summer!
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to find out how to find clarity in your business or life.
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