"The Question Holds the Lantern"

I came across the following piece in The Sun magazine, one of my favourite publications. The sentiments expressed by John O'Donohue are universal and prophetic. Take the time to read and digest his words: http://www.jodonohue.com/reflections/

Tie One On...

Walking away from school on Royal Avenue, I overheard a mother ask her seven-year-old (?) daughter, "Have you been eating your tie?"; to which she responded, "Just a little bit." The mother then said, "I told you not to!"

Surfing for a suitable picture for this post, I came across this one. The guys in this photo are obviously inebriated. I have no idea who they are, but I can tell the guy on the right is pretty strange. Not that the guy on the left isn't strange too, but at least he's not eating someone else's tie. Either the guy on the right has a bizarre tie fetish or the appetizers at the event he's attending are grossly inadequate. In any event, he looks like he could skip a few meals...or ties!

I have worn a tie every workday for 23 years, and I have never felt the compunction to eat any one of my ties--even though some actually have pictures of food on them. Then again, I have never been inebriated at work.

Lesson learned: Try to avoid ties when you're drinking. You never know what might happen. Someone might nibble on your tie. And if you ever feel the need to eat a tie, count to ten and let the urge pass. It's just not worth ending up on the Internet, looking like a complete fool.

Writing takes Time; Time takes Writing

I teach a writing class to seventeen-year-old students. As they are handpicked for the course, they tend to be competent writers. Some are very good writers; others have the potential to be professional writers. I am not a professional writer, but I do know a thing or two about the craft of writing. Having been an avid reader most of my life and an English teacher for twenty-three years, I possess some relevant knowledge. Although I am not a fuddy-duddy grammarian, I do respect the conventions of writing and expect others to do so. I have my pet peeves, like the misuse of the appositive or "however;" however, dear reader, I have read Joyce and understand the rules are meant to be broken. The key, however, is knowing the rules. If one breaks the rules willy-nilly, with no conception of precision or accuracy, one is not James Joyce. Nor will one ever be, for that matter. There is only one James Joyce, though there are many imitators. In the email-blog-text age, individuals are taking less responsibility for their writing than they have since Gutenberg. If the medium is the message, the message is often swift, abbreviated and inaccurate. Some writing is meant purely for expedient communication; other writing is intended to last centuries, if not millennia. How would Homer or Shakespeare compose an email? How would Austen or Woolf blog? How would the Bronte sisters text one another across the moors? Would any of these writers embrace the current technologies? What would they think of Kindles? Although I suspect they would be circumspect in their appraisal or criticism, they could not help but be affected profoundly by the rapid innovation we are undergoing. The sea change in publishing, communication and networking is on a scale never witnessed by humanity; it is farther reaching than Gutenberg's press (pictured above) or Bell's telephone. So where does all this put my students? I am not entirely sure, but I am grappling with the issue and keeping them in mind as I continuously reinvent myself as a teacher of English. The implications for our profession are deep and broad; however, they are part of what makes teaching challenging and stimulating.

Today is Yesterday and Tomorrow

We live in the continuous present, even when planning for the future or ruminating on the past. This moment, this now, though evanescent, lingers in the air like a fragrance stimulating memory: the proverbial Proustian madeleine. Most moments do not allow for reflection as they occur because we are hurrying from pillar to post in the diurnal pursuit of the delay of death. Photos capture moments; words freeze time; art allows us to remain in the present even as we flee to the future.

I took the picture above on March 18, 2009, from the beach of the El Presidente Hotel, as the sun was setting off the coast of Cozumel. This photo captures the earth in flight and the illusion of the sun's dropping off the face of the earth. As we hurtle through the cosmos on our blue planet, we are not aware of the rotation of the earth or its movement around the sun. The only ways to perceive these phenomena with the naked eye are the movements of the sun, moon and stars. Urban inhabitants, we are far removed from this visible evidence of of our planet's velocity. The stars, our most profound connections to the past, are masked by ambient light and pollution. Stellar light brings us the origins of the universe; it reminds us we are all interconnected in the continuous present.

Incivility in Transit

About a week ago, I rode the 105 east to Vendome. When I entered the bus, I sat in the seat right beside the rear exit. After a couple of stops, I noticed across the aisle a woman standing with her infant in a stroller. Most passengers were oblivious, plugged into their music or phones, paying no attention to anyone, let alone a woman in need of a seat. I did the civil thing and gave the woman my seat: a small gesture easy to enact. She was happy; I felt good. After standing for a few minutes, I spied a vacant seat in the rear. Not seeing anyone else in great need of the spot, I took it. From that vantage point, I could see most of the passengers isolated in their cocoons of self-absorption. The words that ran through my mind were "incivility" and "lack of community." One day, one bus ride, a random group of passengers do not a society make. And a crowded bus doesn't necessarily bring out the best in people. Yet if this bus were a microcosm of our society, I would fear for our collective survival. If we lose our civility, we lose an integral part of our humanity. Show compassion for your fellow passengers on the bus ride of life because who knows when you will need a seat. Simply stand up and smile.

Educators

I work in one of the most "blue collar" of white collar professions: education. What I do for a living is more like what I do for living and the living and the unborn. I also work with the ideas and thoughts of dead men and women: the giants on whose shoulders we stand (to paraphrase Sir Isaac Newton). My profession is timeless, timely and timed by bells; it is also priceless (to borrow the Master Card slogan). Undervalued, underpaid, (mis)understood, we rise above the madding crowd every day. The best educators bring light to humanity and hope to the desperate; the worst, darken the spirit and close doors of the imagination. Our work is important; our students are our inspiration. From Socrates to Anne Sullivan to the men and woman who passionately pursue this noble calling, educators are the life blood of society. "If you can read this blog, thank a teacher."

Blogito Ergo Sum

The dead white guy, philosopher Rene Descartes wrote: "Cogito ergo sum" (I think; therefore, I am), so I thought it would be "cute" to name my blog Blogito Ergo Sum (I blog; therefore, I am). Of course, I am probably not the first person to have thought of this clever connection. However, not being first has never been an obstacle for me. In fact, I am usually not first. And this is fine by me. How many bloggers have come before me? Millions? Billions? Too numerous to count on all the fingers I know, which is probably several thousand.

Why have I undertaken this endeavour? I suppose "idle curiosity" is the apt response; a curiosity about the blogosphere; about "more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy." In any event, I have made a start and we'll see what turns up in this little patch of cyberspace.