Finding Focus, Slowing Down, and Progress

How far we've come in one year, and how far we have not. A year ago yesterday I returned to in-person teaching after being in distance learning since March 2020. I remember the anxiety of not being vaccinated yet as we jumped in, eager to be with the children again, but terrified of getting sick. This week, in 2022, my school district returned to distance learning--planned for only one week--with the challenges of teaching online again, and for me, being a mom making sure my daughter succeeds with distance learning herself. The past version was not fun. Along with the now, is the worrying about what seems to be a matter of when we will get sick, rather than if we will. It is exhausting combining the mental fatigue and challenges with focusing, and filtering out fiction from fact as news about Covid, vaccines, tests, treatments, and more seem to change and be contradicted daily. 

Two days in to distance learning and it seems all right--better than the past. My daughter is older, more tech savvy, and I guess, so am I. I still feel anxious and unfocused, but am determined to keep moving ahead. 

Since it has been one year since my last post, I tried to think about what I have been wanting or needing lately. I keep wishing there was a way to freeze time so that I can get more done and move beyond what feels like regular life maintenance to life progress. I can't slow down time, but I can breathe deep and think about sloths in picture books. Yes, sloths--laid back, slow-moving, often sleeping, beautiful creatures. 

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Super Sloth Written and Illustrated by Robert Starling © 2019 Andersen Press USA

One day, an ordinary sloth discovers and reads a book about a superhero. The sloth wonders if he can be a hero, too. Then, when a greedy anteater steals all of the animals’ mangoes, something needs to be done so the animals can eat; however, no one believes they are capable of getting to the anteater to save the mangoes. Sloth decides this is his chance to become a superhero. Sloth soon discovers, though, that he lacks the powers of flight and speed. Doesn’t he need these to be a superhero? Later, when another animal says they are powerless to fix the mango situation, Sloth wonders if maybe he possesses strengths that can turn him into a superhero after all. 

My daughter and I found the story cute, simple, and funny. It made us smile even though, as in several other sloth fiction books we’ve read, Sloth has the ability to walk and stand. Real sloths are unable to stand and support their bodies. They move solely by climbing and crawling. Currently, any sloth books that elicits smiles from us is a worthy sloth book, but we would love to find more stories with sloth characters who truly represent the animal. 

On that note, the following two books fit the bill.

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Sparky! Written by Jenny Offill and Illustrated by Chris Appelhans © 2014 Schwartz & Wade Books 

• 2015 Charlotte Zolotow Award winner (for outstanding writing in a picture book)

All a girl wants is a pet. After her mother promises her she can only have a pet that "doesn't need to be walked or bathed or fed," the girl researches her options and decides a sloth meets the criteria. Arriving via Express Mail, much to the mother's chagrin, the mother cannot reject the pet as her daughter reminds her, "a promise is a promise." 

Sparky is a typical sloth. He sleeps, he hangs, he sits. The girl teaches him various games--hide and seek (Sparky sits and doesn't hide), statue (Sparky is a pro), king of the mountain (Sparky sits and the girl wins). When the girl feels the need to prove to a peer named Mary that Sparky is just as good of a pet as Mary's cat, the girl does not think through her plan before promoting Sparky in a grand manner.

Teaching a sloth to play fetch and perform other tricks that involve movement before Sparky "forgets" what he was supposed to do, is not an easy task. When it's time to show off Sparky to Mary and a neighbor, Sparky performs as expected, based on his behavior in the time spent with the girl. He sits and stares and barely remains awake. Mary is not impressed. The neighbor comments on Sparky's pretty coat. 

In the end, the girl continues to view Sparky as her dear pet, and possibly also as a friend. Sometimes, it's not important what a pet can do. Sometimes, contentment with a pet comes from just being together.

The watercolor illustrations in shades of brown, green, blue, and red, and the facial expressions of the characters combine to create a visually calm story that made me smile at times as I read, but also connect with the girl. Not that it matters to the story, but as a reader and a mom, I might guess the girl is an only child with a single mother (as there are no siblings nor a father mentioned). Like my own daughter, the girl may have longed for a pet as a companion. The girl, I believe, eventually realizes that instead of trying to make Sparky into something or someone who he is not, she can be with Sparky as himself and love him anyway. 

In real life, sloths are not pets. A peer like Mary still thinks she knows it all. And, a girl expresses at least some frustration when a pet does very little of what she wants him to do. The girl in Sparky! never appears frustrated, although she has a brief moment of doubt of her own words as she tries to impress others with Sparky's "talent". Mostly, she appears to breathe acceptance.

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"Slowly, Slowly, Slowly," said the Sloth Written and Illustrated by Eric Carle © 2002 Puffin Books 

The sloth in this story slowly, slowly eats, slowly, slowly crawls along a branch, slowly, slowly falls asleep. The sloth hangs upside down from the tree during the day, the night, and in the rain. Life moves around the sloth in the animals passing by, in the changing of the weather, and more. When other creatures ask the sloth about its silence, its boring nature, and what the animals perceive to be laziness, the sloth slowly, slowly takes time to respond. And the response is brilliant! The sloth acknowledges most of the animals' perceptions of its nature. The sloth admits it is "unflappable, languid, stoic" and "slow, quiet, and boring". The sloth slowly, slowly asserts itself by naming off numerous additional adjectives that describe exactly how this sloth believes is its nature. Laziness is not part of the list. 

I love how grounded the sloth seems in the story. The text, complemented by Eric Carle's traditional colorful illustrations and depictions of nature, creates a story that is both slow--not boring--and lovely. As I try to remember to take even a few moments each day to practice mindfulness, "Slowly, Slowly, Slowly" said the Sloth is one wonderful book that can aid in the calm and focus needed to achieve moments of being present. 

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Sloths make me smile. Sloths make me feel calm. I realize, that thinking about sloths helps me be present and focused. Thank goodness my daughter has a collection of sloth stuffies, and we know two locales that have a live sloth to see in person if we wish to visit.

What is something that helps you focus and find calm these days in our seemingly unsettled world? Share your thoughts in the comments. I would love to hear from you so we can learn from each other.

Back again, at least thinking about writing,

today, tomorrow, and always. 

~Tamara

Mind Chaos, Anxiety, and Time to Defragment

I realized that today marks one year since my last blog post. So much for making a comeback, and “done, not perfect”. What is wrong with me? I continue asking this question. Here I have this dream (since I was in second grade, or approximately 42 years) of becoming a published author and yet something inside me continues to block my path in moving forward. I know there are elements of fear, doubt, impostor syndrome, and anxiety--all of which might be one in the same. I’ve considered giving up writing. I even tried to give up the dream, but I continue to visualize myself at my readings sharing my newest picture book or excerpts from a middle grade novel, or even my memoir. I imagine the food I will serve, and the themes to accompany the books. I imagine finding my books on a shelf at a bookstore. I see myself traveling to schools to give readings and lead writing workshops. I imagine being chosen to speak at one of my former colleges because of my accomplishments. I cannot shut out the visions and the thoughts.

One year ago today, the first case of Covid-19 was lab-confirmed in the United States. This marked the beginning of a year that has changed millions of lives around the world physically, behaviorally toward ourselves and others, and emotionally. So, adding to my anxiety around my dream, was this Covid thing that led me to being a full-time stay-at-home mom, distance learning teacher (which came to an end when we returned to in-person live yesterday, January 19th, 2021). Now I have developed increased doubts about my parenting (it is really hard living with a child 24 hours as a single parent while trying to keep her on track with her schooling, and trying to work by creating lessons and videos and being available for regular tech support for students, families and colleagues). My mind is like a computer needing major defragmenting. 

I know that I’m not alone with this mind chaos. So many unknowns and inconsistencies this year, not only for adults, but for our children, too. Remembering that we’re not alone, when it’s so easy to feel alone, is key to managing, and I pray, to also moving forward.

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Small Things by Mel Tregonning © 2018 Pajama Press Inc. (Publisher)

How does one write a picture book about anxiety without the addition of words? Anxiety can reveal itself in symbols. For a boy in Small Things, flying, almost monster-like, spirits chase after him, taking bites out of the boy’s flesh with their sharp teeth. Not literally, but in reading this black and white wordless graphic-style picture book, readers or viewers can see a boy trying to fit in and be himself, but when other kids stop smiling at him or talking to him, the chomping spirit beings swarm around him. He tries to cover the missing chunks in his flesh to hide them from other peoples’ view as more of him gets eaten away, but this does not deter the creatures. The boy grapples with his school work, angers easily at home, and struggles to clear his head when he tries to sleep at night. At all of these times, the demons flow and swirl around him.

Not until the boy’s older sister recognizes his pain does he learn that the same types of demons plague her also. Only after this recognition and acknowledgement is he able to repel the demons. At first, the spirits still take bites, but with support of his sister, the boy bravely talks to his parents. Then is he able to sleep calmly. The story concludes with the reader seeing that the boy is not the only child at school being bitten in varying amounts by the demons. He later reaches out to a classmate who he lashed out at previously. A hand on her shoulder lets her know that she is not alone.

(Side note: Mel Tregonning, the creator of Small Things struggled with her own demons. She died before the book’s completion. Author and illustrator Shaun Tan, with the blessing of Tregonning’s family, was able to finish the story that Tregonning began through her powerful and beautiful artistry.)

This book, I believe, has value for both children and adults. It’s time to move forward, for all of us. 

(It’s getting late now, but I’m determined to post this before I go to sleep while it's still today, January 20, 2021. Something else happened that is symbolic of moving forward. Today was inauguration day. How many tears were shed out of pure joy and hope? It is time for our anxieties to cease. It’s a new year. We’re not alone, and now many of us are not so small anymore.)

To a new year,

Today, tomorrow, and always.

~Tamara

Making A Comeback: Done, Not Perfect!

For years I have tried to figure out what blocks me from writing--the activity that I wish to be doing more than any other. It’s certainly not about the lack of ideas. If I could transfer my thoughts to paper or a screen instantly, I would be set. 

While fear seems to be at least part of the problem, I’m still not clear if it’s the fear of failure or the fear of success. (I have Brené Brown’s Gifts of Imperfection and am sure there is some connection here, but I still have to read the book.) I know that I am not at a place where it feels like enough to write only for me. I want to share my words, insights, and observations. I guess I need to know that others appreciate what I write. Self-doubts can have immense power over moments of confidence, and when it comes to a dream and a longing, self-doubts squash my focus and push me closer to the “why bother” side of my attempts at writing. 

Last April (2019), I started a new fitness and nutrition program. Before this, I disliked exercising as it bored me and felt like a task that got me nowhere--literally and figuratively. When it came to food, I felt like I was eating the same foods all the time. Then, an ad popped up online one March evening. Instead of ignoring it as I do most, I decided to watch the one-hour webinar. 

Sometimes I do believe we see things at the time we are ready for them. I wanted to find a program that included nutrition with real food (not proprietary shakes, bars, and other food), and fitness routines that didn’t require expensive equipment or for me to be watching happy fitness leaders and participants all perfectly in sync while smiling as they worked out. I needed, and still need, real. Human. People who don't stand on pedestals to teach me their celebrity fitness plan or latest trend. For me, it wasn’t about losing weight--which did happen--but rather it was about forming new habits and a new lifestyle. The program I found was the right one for me. I now have new habits, both with fitness and nutrition. I discovered that I enjoy meal prep and cooking, and it’s possible to actually like exercising. When so much of my life--jobs (yes, I have more than one currently), parenting, writing--are subjective, open-ended activities, finding something that is concrete and has a definite start and finish (such as preparing a cooking a meal or following an established timed fitness routine) keeps me grounded. 

I believe, for me, it’s harder not to write than it is to write. So, when I recently met with my Wellness Coach to discuss my progress on various goals, she introduced the idea of “done, not perfect”. I see this as not about doing something mediocre just to get it done, but rather about doing the activity and accepting that it may not be perfect. If the doer puts forth honest effort, the activity has value and is worth doing and finishing, even if it's not "perfect" in the end.

Now, as I try again, for the millionth and hopefully last time, to turn writing into a habit, I’m going to remind myself of “done, not perfect.” I need to do this. I can do this. Today’s post is my comeback. 

To new habits,

Today and tomorrow,

~Tamara