Reality, The Best, The Valley, The Peak and Perspective.

These past couple of weeks I've been watching a bit of "reality" TV such as "The Voice" and "The Block".  As I watched "The Voice" and the ads around it, I began thinking about how these types of shows don't just encourage people to be their best, but encourages them to be the best and be better than the rest.  Although it is good to be the best you can be, I'm beginning to think more on the "Be THE best" philosophy.  As a teacher, do I want my students to be better than the rest, to be the best?  It sounds almost noble to encourage them like this but when we do, what about the students who are doing their best and yet struggle to keep up academically?  I think we need to encourage each student to be the best they can be.

Dave and I both like playing games online and even board games.  It was best if we partnered each other rather than played against each other and we made a formidable team.  In word games and games that required quick thinking, I was the 'better' of the two of us but in games that required patience and strategy, Dave was willing to take the extra time.  He liked to play Facebook games under my name and be the 'best' for the week.  In word games that required quick typing and got faster and harder as the game went on, he would relinquish the chair to me and stand beside me encouraging me to continue and ultimately 'win'.  He wanted to win at all costs and while I like to win and like a good game, I hate the pressure I feel to be the 'best'.  I want to be the best and when I am not, then I feel like a failure... sometimes.  I don't want my students to feel like they're a failure just because they're not the best.  There is always going to be someone who is better at something that we are good at.

The weather has turned cold and wet.  With all my good intentions to play squash, when I got home, I completely forgot about it and had planned my evening of replying to emails, washing dishes and doing school work.  When I finally remembered, I consoled myself with the knowledge that it's only a 'hit' and not a competition and this way, I can get to bed earlier with a good book.  I am reading a book called "The Noticer" by Andy Andrews. 

At the start of the book Andy Andrews talks about a tough period in his life and mentions the help of a man called Jones who talks about "noticing" things that others don't.  He says, "It's all about perspective."  Very early on in the book, I read this:

".. Everyone wants to be on the mountaintop, but if you'll remember mountaintops are rocky and cold.  There is no growth on top of a mountain. Sure the view is great, but what is a view for?  A view just gives us a glimpse of our next destination - our next target.  But to hit that target, we must come down off the mountain, go through the valley, and begin to climb the next slope.  It is in the valley that we slog through the lush grass and rich soil, learning and becoming what enables us to summit life's next peak.  So my contention is that you are right where you are supposed to be...... Think. Learn. Pray. Plan. Dream.  For soon, you will become."

It's hard for me to truly accept that I am right where I am supposed to be even though I know I am.  Perhaps it's not  that it's hard to accept, just hard to continue slogging my way, climbing uphill, moving forward towards that elusive mountaintop view.  When my parents used to take us to the Grampians for holidays, as we climbed up, we'd forever be asking, "How much further?"  Even when I went with Nathan back at the end of January, I found myself asking people coming back down, "How much further?"  I wanted to know so that I could pace myself, so that I would know how hard it was going to be.  So now, I keep asking the same question.  "How much further is this valley of grief?  How much longer will it take before I get to relax and enjoy the view again?"  There are no signs telling me how much further, what way the trail will be, how much steeper and no one's able to tell me how much longer it will take. 

As I climbed the mountain in January, it was hard work and painful and even more painful for a couple days after.  But this garden trail of grief is a marathon and the pain is there even as I walk.  There are 'rest' stops, refreshing drinks of water along the way and other small blessings to make the climb more bearable and I am thankful for those.  I remember the song Matt Redman sings and perhaps I've mentioned it before.  He sings,

Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us

Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

My heart does sing this song and I am thankful that I am not doing this on my own.  Not only does He walk beside me but He also puts people in my life to encourage me along the way.  I am also thankful for my class.  Although they are challenging at times, I love each one of them and I am thankful for them.  Some of them are like diamonds in the rough and sometimes I feel that they just need to hear how important they are, that they can make a difference.  I've read them the story "The Boy Who Changed The World" by Andy Andrews and I will remind them of that principle as many times as I can.  Everything we do matters.

Everything we do matters and we need to remember that it is about perspective.  "Remember whatever you focus upon increases... When you focus on the things you need, you'll find those needs increasing.  If you concentrate your thoughts on what you don't have, you will soon be concentrating on other things that you had forgotten you don't have -- and feel worse!  If you set your mind on loss, you are more likely to lose... But a grateful perspective brings happiness and abundance into a person's life."

I sure could relate to that quote from Andy Andrew's book.  It was only a few weekends ago that I was so focussed on my loss, not having Dave in my life, having said goodbye to close family and friends in the States, not having material, financial stability etc that it was hard to see the good in my life.  I know that I need to be disciplined enough to have a grateful perspective.  And yes, it takes discipline because, in my grief, it is still easy to resort to dwelling on my losses rather than being thankful, not just for the people and things in my life right now, but also for what I was privileged to enjoy while married to Dave. 

I still miss him, though.