More silliness, honesty, kindness.

Be silly.

Be honest.

Be kind.

The above are just a few of the wise words that Ralph Waldo Emerson left us with. They have been my words for the week, posted on my white board to give me inspiration.

Usually, I leave a quote up for about a week, then erase and write something new, but I feel like I need to keep this one around for longer. Of all the philosophical and spiritual books I’ve ever read, no author has so completely captured the key to a wonderful life. Simple words, complicated admonition.

I love my life. My husband is romantic-comedy wonderful. Tom Hanks would play him in a movie (though Greg has better legs). And my daughters are spectacular: smart, funny, kind, creative, beautiful. I have a good job, a great place to live and an extended family and friends network that gets me through all of the struggles of life. Who could ask for more?

I could.

From myself.

I want to be more silly, more honest, more kind.

You’d think that working as a second grade teacher I’d have my full share of silly. But, as any public school teacher will tell you, there is no longer time for silly. I have benchmark reading assessments to get through which means the rest of the students need to work quietly while I test. I have a new Math unit to begin and make sure that the students are ready for the test in two and a half weeks so we can squeeze in one more unit before the end of the year. Through all this assessment, I need to maintain routines, oh yeah, and prepare materials for the move-up process to sort the second graders into third grade classrooms. There is no time for silly.

And honesty? If I were honest with myself I would have allowed for three days to curl up in a sobbing ball of grief this weekend because it’s Mother’s Day and I miss my Mom. I feel nauseous and sad and filled with amazing love – a ridiculous combination, but honestly my own.

Kindness has actually been my focus this month. I’m trying to approach all things with kindness – my restless second graders, my hormonal daughter, my disoriented neighbor, my . . .self. I’ve taken a few steps forward, stumbled a few steps back, but managed to keep kindness in many of my days. I am even learning to accept the kindness shown me.

In trying to be kind to myself, I took time away from work and chores to play in the garden. Growing in scattered spots throughout the yard are the remnants of my old neighbors Solomon’s Seal, which she shared with me after I giggled uncontrollably at them growing in her yard. They are like an illustration in a Dr. Seuss book the way they poke out of the soil in singular long stems. When they unfurl, they’ll hang like umbrellas and my neighbor had them planted behind her Buddha statue to shade him all summer long. It was wonderfully silly. I think of her, and that happy, round Buddha, every time I see this plant in my yard. So, maybe I don’t need Emerson’s