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Year Two, Day 61: The Student Teaches the Teacher


This is a picture of a bunny I saw with my daughter and son-in-law on a hike last Sunday evening. Before our world shifted.


I rode my bike to church this morning.  I am happy to be riding my bike again. I can think on my bike.  And get air into my lungs. I feel like I have been holding my breath.

 I am so glad I made it to Saturday morning mass.  This is one of the favorite times of my week. A small, faithful group gathers, hears scriptures, prays, hugs and receives communion.  There is a female lay minister who presides over Mass on Saturdays.  I find her to be a loving, kind person.  After the readings this morning, she said with all the violence in the world, she had found this poem spoke to her. And she shared it with us.  

I was so moved that I wrote the following on my Facebook page:
We Were Made for These Times
Clarissa Pinkola Estes

"This morning we prayed for the victims of violence all over this planet. 

And then the lay minister read us this poem. It really resonated with me, so I would like to share an excerpt with you.
"My friends, do not lose heart. We were made for these times. I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world now. Ours is a time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people...In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails. We are needed, that is all we know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear...Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do. There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it...The reason is this: In my outermost bones I know something, as you do. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbour and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for". 
By Clarissa Pinkola Estes, American poet, post-trauma specialist and author of "Women Who Run With the Wolves"


After Mass, I rode my bike over to have breakfast with my mother.  My second favorite weekly activity.  I must say right here, right now, that my mother is one of my favorite people. And a good friend. I forget she is my mom. In fact, I no longer call her "Mother", we call call her "Grandma".  

One thing I appreciate about her, besides her sense of humor, is her concern for current events, and politics, even though we sometimes disagree.  We got caught up. It felt nice to completely share with someone close all of our hopes and fears.  

It was quite a week.  And it is not over yet.

After breakfast, we headed over to the church where I teach piano on Saturdays. She had a very nice lesson - she has been practicing more than usual, and it showed. She beamed when I complimented her.

I taught a few students, played a bit of piano and then taught a few more students. Then I took a break. 

Suddenly I felt a presence. I looked up and saw and older, slender man.  He had walked into the sanctuary and was staring at me with big, haunted eyes. I was a little spooked.  I am usually a very trusting person, but after the events of this week, I am quite jumpy.

I asked him if I could help him.

He said, "Well, obviously I am homeless."

I told him I just taught piano at the church, and did not work there. I asked him if he needed help.

He said, "Yes. I need to confess."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Said a quick prayer.

Then he looked around and said, "Can I just sit in her for awhile?"

I wish I could have said yes. But I had a student due soon.  I did not know this man or his intentions. I did not represent the church.

"No, I'm sorry", I said.  "But have a seat near the office and I will see if I can get hold of the pastor."

We walked out together. I brought him a glass of water. Then I texted the pastor. Thank God she was at the church today. She came out and sat with him. They began talking. I went to greet my next student and didn't look at the pastor and the man, respecting his privacy. But I picked up some of his words. They were slightly alarming.  

I went in with my student, my heart thudding. Would the pastor be safe? I kept the door open.  There were other people in the building. But did I put her at risk?

After a few minutes, I heard a door close. I excused myself from my student and texted the pastor. She was fine. She had purposely sat with him by the exits in plain view of other people coming and going in the church. She had given him some recommendations.

I breathed a sigh of relief.  

This always bothers me. People, often out of desperation seek help in a church. But most small churches are not able to provide social services. They usually refer them to the 2-1-1 Portland social services number.

But I have a deep longing to do more.  However, in this instance, I suddenly had an awareness of  how vulnerable we were.  Several groups used the church. Most of the day the doors were unlocked.  

I hope I am not becoming paranoid.  Heightened awareness is how I choose to perceive this.

Luckily the man meant no harm. He just need to talk. 

And luckily my day ended on a positive note. My last student, who has been with me nearly 10 years helped me figure out how to change the mp3 recording settings from bit rate 192 to 320 to improve the sound. I had no idea what this even meant before he explained it to me.  A teenager!  I was humbled, but very grateful.  

The student teaches the teacher!

On that note, I am going to go home.  I am still very stressed out.  Worried about my son. Grieving the Dallas massacre, grieving the loss of innocent life and sad about the continued racial tensions in our country.

I am thankful for this blog. It gives me an opportunity to see my thoughts and make a bit of sense out of them.

I think I am going to spend some time with  my piano tonight.  Maybe do some cooking.  Hang out with the dog. 

I am also going to spend a good deal of time in prayer. And reading the Beatitudes (Matthew 5: 3-11). Years ago, a sweet woman I worked with at a chiropractic clinic when my daughter was just a baby, gently led me back to Jesus. She told me I was a "precious child of God". And she suggested if I were to begin to study the Bible, the Beatitudes were a good place to start.

And tonight I am returning.  To the greatest teacher.  My Lord and Savior.  For comfort and advice.

And hopefully tomorrow will be brighter. 

Happy Saturday!


The Beatitudes

He said:

3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Matthew 5: 3-11, New International Version

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