Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Friday, February 19, 2016
PPBF: In My Heart
Today I'm excited because my guest post at Free Spirit about helping grieving students is now live; click {here} to go there for resources and strategies that I think you'll find helpful. Assignment writing is such a fun challenge for me. Another engaging, thought-provoking post I came across this week
{What's Wrong With Overachieving} might also interest you.
Scott Shickler, one of The 7 Mindsets authors, and I will both be keynote speakers at this Character Conference in Wisconsin this summer and I can't wait.
{What's Wrong With Overachieving} might also interest you.
Scott Shickler, one of The 7 Mindsets authors, and I will both be keynote speakers at this Character Conference in Wisconsin this summer and I can't wait.
 |
| Click the banner for more details. |
I'm also tickled pink because our PPBF pick is just perfect
for a counselor (and mom!) like me.
Title: In My Heart: A Book of Feelings
Author: Jo Witek
Illustrator: Christine Roussey
Publisher: Abrams Appleseed
Date: October 14, 2014
Suitable for: Preschool and up
Theme: feelings exploration
Brief synopsis: A whimsical, flowery look into the young narrator's heart,
which houses a wide array of fabulous feelings.
which houses a wide array of fabulous feelings.
Opening page: My heart is full of feelings. Big feelings and small feelings. Loud feelings and quiet feelings. Quick feelings and slow feelings. My heart is like a house with all these feelings living inside.
 |
| Look at how adorable the little superhero on the back cover is! |
Resources:
Read a review at Books That Heal Kids {here}.
A template to make a My Feelings book {here}.
My Feelings Management Pinterest page {here}.
Find a template to make Feelings Tellers {here}.
Share this Dr. Sood clip about feelings and the brain:
A template to make a My Feelings book {here}.
My Feelings Management Pinterest page {here}.
Find a template to make Feelings Tellers {here}.
Share this Dr. Sood clip about feelings and the brain:
Compare and contrast this book with:
Visiting Feelings by Lauren Rubenstein
My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss
Today I Feel Silly by Jamie Lee Curtis
The Way I Feel by Janen Cain
Why I like this book: I'm a school counselor and this little treasure is meant to encourage feelings exploration, so to start with, there's that. But beyond the obvious, I love the way the narrator tries to put into words how she interacts with certain emotions ~ happy, brave, mad, calm, broken, sad, hopeful, afraid, silly, shy, proud ~ and how they interact with her. It's a refreshing look at what happens to us when the feelings that live inside of our hearts awaken and choose to come for visit. I also love how she refers to her feelings on the opening page as big and small, loud and quiet, quick and slow. To that list, I'd add easy and hard, comfortable and uncomfortable.
Check out this book for yourself or a friend;
I think it'll make you feel happy.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Fertilizer, Floss & Feelings
Today I'm hoping that you're curious about how the three things in the title connect. First, the fertilizer. It was late the other night, past dusk but not yet dark, when John saw rain on the radar and decided to spread fertilizer out front, to help the yard stay resilient during the Texas summertime sizzle. The timing was perfect; he got the chemicals spread just before the heavens opened up. But a setting was off. Just look at our lawn, one week later. It's all splotchy. Like polka-dotted. It's an odd look, really, especially if you don't know the story.
The lush dark grass was hit; the thin light spots were missed.
The lush dark grass was hit; the thin light spots were missed.
Interesting, you might say, but what does that have to do with floss? Well, I went to the dentist yesterday, for my six-month check up and cleaning. As I prepared for the visit, I realized that I have not done a very good job of flossing this spring. Usually quite diligent about the care for my pearly whites, I decided to be transparent when Carol, my hygienist, inquired as to my recent dental-care habits. I told her that I was rocking the brushing part but delinquent in the flossing area. And get this; I didn't get any points for my honesty. In fact, she fussed at me. She told me that brushing without flossing is like showing up for class without having done the homework. She added that, in fact, the flossing is way more important than the brushing because you can miss a lot of spots by just brushing. She wondered why a teacher like me would bother coming to class without her homework, so she put not one, but two packs of floss in my goodie bag.
She says it's only twenty days worth. And it can't be hit or miss.
By now you might be able to predict what the fertilizer and the floss have to do with one another. First, let me bounce forward to the feelings part of the post.
 |
| Click the graphic for Heather's 20 Counseling Themes post! |
{Spoiler alert} It's the moving story of an eleven-year-old girl as told by her feelings: Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Anger, and Fear. As Riley navigates her new normal after relocating to San Francisco from the Midwest, Joy works very hard to create a happy experience for her by keeping the other feelings at bay. But when Riley's feelings get all mixed up and she starts to lose sight of who she is, it ends up being the mix with Sadness leading the way to help Riley be resilient and propel her through the hard to arrive at the happy.
Here now, some outcome inquiries to help connect the spots dots:
What might happen in our classrooms, homes, communities, world if we don't fertilize evenly? How do those who get the fertilizer benefit? How might those who don't get the fertilizer suffer? How often should we fertilize? What is the end goal of fertilizing? And how might we need to adjust when there's no rain on the radar?
How does this compare and contrast to my flossing fiasco?
Do you agree that completing follow-up assignments is more important to our learning than simply showing up to class? Why or why not? What happens when we show up unprepared, without having done our homework? How do we ascertain that these two things work in concert to maximize the benefits of both?
Finally, these Inside Out reflections:
Are feelings ever mutually exclusive or do they work best in unity? How do we (and our stakeholders) benefit when we accept, embrace, and willingly feel all of our feelings, easy and hard, comfortable and uncomfortable, weak and strong? What might it be like if we didn't? Might we end up out-of-sorts, a little like the lawn? Or worse, risk a disease, like gingivitis? Would the same be true if we try to protect our children or students from experiencing certain, perhaps less-desirable feelings? How will they learn to be resilient if we don't let them experience adversity and push through the feelings that follow?
Inside Out is a creative masterpiece that I will undoubtedly go see again
and one I enthusiastically recommend. I also recommend
fertilizing carefully, flossing routinely, and feeling deeply
as you unwrap today, the gift that is our present.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
If The Walls Could Talk
Today I'm thinking about not only the high school graduates, but also the educators who will retire, for whom the 2014-2015 school year was a milestone, their last. My friend Jo, school counselor at Prairie Elementary, is one of those. Next week, she'll bid farewell to her school family and launch into the next chapter in life. Their good-bye time together resulted in this awesome reflection lesson.
They read the Dr. Seuss classic, Oh The Places You'll Go,
then answered these four reflection questions:
Who would you like to be someday?
Where do you want to go visit?
What is one thing you have never done that you want to do?
What is one thing you will do this summer?
Don't you love these? What a sweet way to get closure and say good-bye. Congratulations, Jo. I'm proud of you and I wish you all the best.
I couldn't help but wonder what the walls in my old office, Room 11B, would say if they could talk. Oh, the stories they could tell. In fourteen years, I've seen a lot, prayed a lot, helped solve a lot of problems, and dried a lot of tears.
I went through some iPhoto archives to a role-play from a few years ago;
what do you suppose these littles were
thinking,
feeling,
experiencing.
As I reflect with fondness on my time in that office, which is empty now and ready for another season, I feel like the walls would share a story of gratitude and growth, of enthusiasm and empathy, of hope and love.
But I also know that I made a whole lot of mistakes, in Room 11B. Words I said that I wish I'd have filtered, problems I wrestled with that I ran out of steam to resolve, hurdles I encountered that I just couldn't get over with any kind of grace.
Recently I've learned to think of the word FAIL as
First Attempt In Learning.
Suffice it to say, I've learned a lot, in Room 11B.
So as I look forward, I'm excited to keep growing with those peacemakers, who are now fourth graders and headed to room A7 with me.
Oh, the possibilities that lie ahead ...
Friday, June 5, 2015
PPBF: Bounce Back!
One of the reasons that I was given for my transfer to the Bales side of our campus was to help reignite some of the school's vibrancy, to help turn the lights back on, essentially to help the school bounce back. You see, that school has been through so many losses and changes in the past ten years, since my mentor Sally was the counselor there, and some of those challenges have been difficult at best.
So today I'm excited because I've got the whole day to fix up the old band hall,
my huge new counseling space.
Here's what the 3rd-5th graders will see as they enter:
So today I'm excited because I've got the whole day to fix up the old band hall,
my huge new counseling space.
Here's what the 3rd-5th graders will see as they enter:
To the left as you enter, the masterpiece that Kathy just painted.
Straight ahead, storage rooms for right now,
practice areas for activities down the road,
or peaceful spots, for quiet time or de-escalation.
And a staging area, for our role plays.
 |
| I got the pillar posters up today ... is it providential that there were SIX spots for them? |
To the right, two huge bulletin boards
and the kidney table I use for small groups and Counselor Cafe.
It almost makes me want to go back to school right now!
But, first things first, summertime awaits.
So what do those pictures have to do with today's PPBF?
It's that new space that's helping me bounce back
from the shock of being moved to help them bounce back ...
and the grief and pain of leaving the familiar behind,
letting go, and, well, bouncing back!
Title: Bounce Back!
Author: Cheri J. Meiners
Illustrator: Elizabeth Allen
Publisher: Free Spirit Press
Date: May 21, 2014
Suitable for: ages 4-8
Non-fiction
Themes: feelings, resilience, problem-solving
Brief synopsis: This title from the Being The Best Me series helps children understand the concept of resiliency and offers tips and strategies to help them bounce back from set backs.
Opening page:
I'm learning to take care of myself and to solve my own problems.
Resources:
Watch and share this awesome resilience animation.
Why do I like this book? Because it's a teaching book, and I'm a teacher. Here's the thing; when we name something, it gives it credence and facilitates the process of understanding it, accepting it, and moving through it. It's empowering when we normalize stuff for our littles, and this series masterfully does just that. Cheri's books, brilliantly illustrated with engaging real-life scenarios,
make what could be complex, simple.
I love the last page the most, because the girl wearing the superhero cape chooses these powerful words: I can decide to bounce back.
Resilience is a decision. I needed that.
I'm planning to couple the above animation clip with this treasure in one of my counseling stations next year so that they can understand, truly understand, the meaning of resilience so that we can figure out strategies to turn the lights back on together. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some bouncing forward to do.
For more PPBF picks, go to Susanna's blog now.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Praying For A Sign
For a little over a month now, I've been praying for a sign, something concrete to help me know whether this transfer to work with older kiddos is the path I should go down or if it's that nudge into retirement that I might just need to grow my encore career in consulting and speaking. I've prayed, reflected, processed, cried, chatted, commiserated, walked, even floated on my pool, waiting for a sign.
And today, on my umpteenth trip down the hall,
there it was:
A sign, hanging just outside of my new space,
signed by members of my new school family.
Isn't that oh, so sweet?
Check out the beauty inside those new quarters,
thanks to Kathy Hammond and our PTO.
It's the backdrop for our staging area in Leadership Central.
{That's what we're calling this room now. We even painted that on the wall at the entrance.}
I can't wait for our first circle-up in there,
to use this masterpiece as a reflection and discussion piece.
Where do you see trustworthiness?
How about empathy?
Which symbols show responsibility?
Why do you think there's a train?
What could the dog symbolize?
And how about that golden ruler?
This week has been at once energizing and exhausting.
My birthday on Monday,
our last full day on Tuesday,
and a half-day today, to launch students into the summer.
Yesterday I spent the morning with my second graders. They're the ones who'll be moving over to Bales to be the first third graders who've ever attended over there. I was happy to help them process their feelings about the move. My heart filled in every class as they'd gasp at the news that I was coming with them, so we could be new and nervous together.
I asked if we ought to bring the puppets and they unanimously voted yes. Then I asked them to feel empathy for the students that we were leaving behind, and they decided it'd be fair to take half of them and leave half for them. When I asked them what they thought a counselor new to Westwood would want or need, it was suggested that she might like some love and a letter.
So many of them wrote nice notes, like this one ...
and this one.
Do you see what I adore about second graders?
Anyway, today I survived the big so-long without too many tissues.
It took about thirty seconds in our community gathering this morning for Administration to share the news that their counselors were swapping spots, but I wanted/needed more, so I went say good-bye to the first graders and encourage them to rock the job of role-model big kids now that they'll be the oldest in the school. With the kinder kids, I just went around to give and get hugs.
I feel so much gratitude for those of you who checked in on me,
connected with me, and prayed for me this last month.
And this afternoon, I'm experiencing the clarity and peace
that I was asking for along with that sign,
and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's going to be just fine.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Grieving The Goodbye With Grace
As midnight approaches and I get ready to say goodbye to May,
as we get ready to say goodbye to another school year this week,
and as I prepare to say goodbye to an office I moved in to back when we used dial-up to connect to the Internet, my thoughts turn to one of my favorite
childhood characters, Winnie The Pooh.
It's been a month.
And what a month it has been.
A month since they told me I was being transferred.
A month of heartbreak and heartache.
A month of grieving the goodbye.
Hard stuff.
So hard that some days it hurt to breathe.
Some days I felt sick to my stomach.
Some days I couldn't stop crying.
And I couldn't exactly figure out why.
That's important, you know, getting to the why.
Because once we know the why, we can get to the how.
It was this Thursday, on my mental-health day away from school,
that something my sister said helped me get to the why.
It's kind of like a divorce, she said.
One that you didn't see coming. One that you don't want. And one that you're having trouble accepting. Of course you're grieving.
Amen. Someone gets it. And the pieces fell into place.
I was hurled into a separation I didn't ask for and don't want.
No wonder it hurts so bad. Yes, it makes sense to me now.
I understand why I haven't been myself.
It's not that I don't want to follow my kids next door,
or nurture the seeds I've planted, or experience them in the next age and stage.
It's that I was blindsided by an unwanted break.
One that shocked me.
And one that hurt.
To the core.
I wish I could say that I've handled it with grace.
Some days were better than others, but this month,
this month has been really challenging.
Difficult at best.
A real character builder.
An emotional roller coaster.
I've been sad and mad.
And I've wanted to take my wounded pride and run away.
As fast and as far as I could.
The good news is that, day by day, I'm tenderizing
and that pride is turning toward grace. And gratitude.
I'm thankful for a new opportunity, for sure and
I'm ever so grateful to readers, family and friends
who've checked in on me and normalized my feelings.
Just yesterday, Sue (whom I look forward to meeting in real life one day) sent an email to make sure I was okay.
She validated the notion that counselors need a job that fits.
And she said she was crying with me.
There's that glorious virtue of empathy.
I value that in a friend.
And it helped me move toward the how.
So tomorrow when I wake up, I'll be a year older.
And a lot of tears wiser.
It'll be a new month and another chance
to grieve the goodbye with grace.
And to move forward.
I'm lucky and abundantly blessed to have worked since dial-up in a school,
where I've felt rooted while rooting for kids,
where I've felt joy basking in the climate of caring,
where I've always felt at home.
We're starting the mural on the wall in my Counseling Cove in the morning, a nice first step into my new story.
Good grief; is that a twinge of excitement I'm feeling?
Grace ... it's a beautiful thing.
Friday, May 29, 2015
PPBF: The Pout-Pout Fish In The Big-Big Dark
Today I'm excited because it was our last Friday of this school year
hook, line, and sinker.
Title: The Pout-Pout Fish in the Big-Big Dark
Author: Deborah Diesen
Illustrator: Dan Hanna
Publisher: Farrar, Straus & Giroux
Date: August 17, 2010
Fiction
Suitable for: ages 3-6
Themes: feelings of fear, courage, friendship
Brief synopsis: Ms. Clam needs help when her little pearl is lost at sea. Can the Pout-Pout Fish conquer his fear of the dark so that he can keep a promise?
Opening page:
A doozie of a drowsy
Made Ms. Clam yawn.
Then a big current whooshed
And her pearl was GONE!
Resources:
Sing along with the Pout-Pout Fish song:
Project-Based Learning: Read the book, research ocean life, then hold an Aquarium Open House. Here's a sneak peek into the sea-life event that Mrs. Martin's Kindergarten learners hosted this afternoon; talk about courageous!
Why I like this book:
Who wouldn't savor this sea-worthy story as we sail in to summer? Cute and clever, this rhyming underwater treat serves up an all-important underlying truth:
We are bigger than the dark.
Mr. Fish knows his strengths, but he's also well-aware of his limitations. And although he wants to help his friend recover what was lost, he realizes that he must first muster up a whole lot of what he doesn't have much of when it comes to the dark: courage!
Courage comes in all shapes and sizes. For Mr. Fish, it's going to come shaped like Miss Shimmer, who works side-by-side with him to keep his promise, face his fears, brave the dark, and recover that pearl. Find out from your little sponges what scares them and let them share their strategies for mastering those
scared feelings.
Check out this book and the other Pout-Pout Fish titles,
Thursday, May 28, 2015
When You're Root Bound
It was bound to happen,
this natural part of life.
You put down roots, deep deep roots, over time,
and look at what happens.
This schefflera has been in this pot
for about as long as I've been at my current school.
Minding its own business, doing its job.
Growing taller and going deeper
with every moment, day, month, year that passes. And now, it's
root bound.
Check out the way its purple roots are sprawling into the pea gravel.
It has outgrown its home.
It's not like it happened overnight,
but this morning for the first time I noticed it.
Have I been too busy to pay attention?
Maybe I just wasn't ready to see what it needed.
Or strong enough to do anything about it.
Clearly it's time for a transplant.
It's bound to hurt a little lot,
when it has to leave the comforts of its blue pot.
But this plant will improve, be better, thrive
in a bigger space with more room to grow.
Makes me think of graduation.
A bittersweet sea of blue.
Marking a milestone.
An ending.
And a beginning.
At once happy ... and sad.
My transplant really hit close to home
at Kindergarten graduation last night.
 |
| Look at the adorableness I found in my archives. |
I was holding my own, meeting and greeting,
welcoming our families to this celebration,
basking in the delight of my littles as they'd squeal my name,
as if they hadn't seen me in forever.
And then, the reminder:
So, this will be your last Kindergarten graduation.
Time to transplant.
What are you waiting for; let's get growing.
And I couldn't catch my breath.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
It felt as though someone with a sharp, sheering shovel was
digging deep, really deep,
to get me out of that blue clay pot.
But I'm comfortable in here.
Hey, be gentle.
Really comfortable.
Ouch.
I'll do better.
Stop it.
Please.
Needless to say, but I will anyway,
the flood gates opened and I spent the night sobbing.
My poor husband didn't know what to do.
The good news?
There are therapeutic benefits to crying your eyes out.
Yay.
It was a big ugly cry,
'cause I'm gonna miss that small blue pot.
A lot.
So when I woke up with a puffy face and a dull headache,
I decided to take a mental health day,
to rest, regroup, and reflect on my new normal.
Am I eager, excited even, to move to the bigger space
to nurture the seeds we've planted?
Absolutely.
But is my heart breaking a bit
as I say goodbye to and let go of the familiar?
No doubt.
So for today, I'm going to join these mindful little leaders
and Just Breathe.
Well, I may take a walk, a bath, and a nap, too.
What strategies do you use to survive thrive through those transplants
when you find you're root bound?
Subscribe to:
Posts
(
Atom
)
