All my many, many residential moves in the Boston area in the past 30 years certainly have strengthened my capacity to adapt to different places for sure! Although this adaptation has made me feel rootless.

“Growing in the face of challenges”? I immediately think of my students and young people I have taught over the years. They are the ones who challenge me to grow in a way I can take in and accept much more readily than being challenged by adults. That brings out my resistance! But then I think of the teachers and staff I work with, especially now during the past year of the pandemic. Their determination, cheerfulness and let’s-get-on-with-it attitude has pulled me along to grow. Not the least in being able to teach little kids via Zoom!

I am appreciating the personal responses. I need to hear specifics, not abstract generalities for the questions we are asked here.

Yes, being vulnerable calls for wisdom and judgement. I can very easily hide my hurt in stoicism or anger. But sometimes my sadness has comes out spontaneously, in a way that I could not control, and in a way that was necessary. Last year, during the early months of the pandemic, I was on a Zoom staff meeting, and during the routine “check-in” period, I ended up in tears during my share, which I had not planned to do!. The rest of the staff did not say much, but I felt their warm, understanding and support.

I remember years ago, feeling distraught and beside myself one Sunday, and not knowing how to deal with my strong feelings. A woman from my Quaker Meeting who did not know me, approached me, and commented that I looked so sad. She sat with me for the next hour, and listened to me, just listened to my grief and upset. I will never forget being listened to so deeply. It was deeply comforting to be heard with compassion.

When I am in difficult relationships and conflict, I often so much need to hear the person I am in conflict with show me their hurt and pain. It’s not easy because it makes one vulnerable and “weak” in a way. But then I have the opportunity to respond with compassion and understanding.

My sister’s husband Adam is and continues to be one of my favorite relatives. He married my sister after her divorce and has been the greatest warm, loving, humorous addition to our family anyone could have, as well as a wonderful step-father to my two nieces.

Thinking back to my 2 nephews and 2 nieces: They were my favorite relatives to be around when they were little! Especially delightful, as children. Maybe that’ because I like kids. (Maybe that’s why I’m still teaching elementary children.)

My paternal aunt Elsie was cool. She was a mid-wife with Madonna House lay apostolate, and had worked in many different parts of the world. I especially enjoyed her visiting us in Albany, when I was in high-school. I did not see her frequently in my life, but I was with her for several days when she was dying, and that was a gift.

My parents have been gone and I still think of them a lot. Wish I could talk to them and get to know them.

This is how I am trying to live. Some days, or some moments, I can experience it, and some days it is difficult. So easy for me to get bogged down in everyday weariness and boredom and dissatisfaction.

So today I am not feeling well. I need to get a COVID test. But I can rest, the sun is shining, and the wind is moving the fat magnolia tree buds outside my window.
My friend Judith is a gift. She came to the rescue last night, bringing me chicken soup, saltines and seltzer water.
My students at school are a gift. They keep me in the present, and keep me amused and challenged.

My living situation and housemates as a gift? That takes practice seeing them that way! More often than not, they all seem like a obstacle and a ‘thorn in my side.’

Life as a gift. Keep on practicing. Looking up, keeping my sense of wonder and my sense of humor.

For me, the pain is mental agitation and anxiety, and unease. Particularly, in my current living situation with 7 unrelated, stubborn people living in one house here.

And I remember that I am grateful for the sun and increasing spring light, the birds returning north which I now hear in the mornings, the large magnolia tree outside my window, which will be blooming in a month, the Charles River Greenway trail just down the road from my house.

I am grateful for my health and strong body.

I am grateful that I can teach and make a difference to delightful, young students in the public school: English Language Learners from a range of diverse cultures and countries. And I am aware that the parents are grateful for my care and work with their children.

My friend Nelson. When I had to move suddenly last summer during Covid. He would free his mornings before work, and come over to help me move to the new place. Sometimes he would patiently sit at my kitchen table and wait until I had finished packing enough boxes to take over.

Kindnesses that touch me are when the other person acts from who they are, as a matter of course, without trying to be “kind.” It comes naturally.

My current housemate Donna, always saying yes to my request to borrow her car. My ability to go out in nature is precious to me and she is always amenable.