I live in the very beautiful Bay of Plenty in New Zealand. My playground is Tauranga and Mount Maunganui and it’s a very sunny, outdoorsy place to live. It is a coastal town that has still retained its holiday feel. I was born here then lived in other parts of New Zealand, and returned here when my daughter was two (she is now 23 and on her own adventure).
I get so teary eyed when I see a video clip of people helping others in unexpected ways. I am a primary school teacher of seven and eight year olds, and as a teacher I notice who finds it difficult to trust, or who hasn’t learned the skills to reach out to others in ways that will be embraced. I am a Waldorf teacher and so a big part of the school’s focus is on social education. It speaks to me in a deep way as I was such a shy child when I was growing up, that I needed other people to be the ones who initiated an interaction and it took a very, very long time for me to feel comfortable around others. So I can relate to the children who are shy or fearful. That was me.
Going back to my younger years, my school teacher when I was nine was such an amazing teacher that I’m sure he’s the reason I wanted to become a teacher myself – although it would be a long and windy path to get there (which my teacher would have approved of; he said that a straight road is boring. He said he would take the windy road any day as you don’t know what is around the next bend). He had a stillness and authority about him that was reassuring. He noticed the children in his class and found ways to encourage. I felt loved. I felt safe. I felt seen. And I felt celebrated. Everything he did was done calmly, with a smile and sparkling eyes. He read aloud stories to us – James and the Giant Peach, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I can still visualise the gold that Charlie found in the chocolate bar he unwrapped. And the warmth of the chocolate as he ate it. And the grandparents sitting in their beds. My teacher mesmerised us with the tales he shared and that is when I began to see the power of story and the way it can bring us all together.
Later that year my family moved to Nelson and I studied classical guitar. My guitar teacher and his wife would travel New Zealand performing as a duo. He on classical guitar; she on violin. I went to their home for my weekly lesson. They lived in a tiny home (before tiny homes were a thing) with a pot belly stove in the corner and a kettle on the boil so he would make me a cup of tea, sweetened with a spoonful of honey. I loved learning to play guitar, but I also cherished the conversations – although it was usually him speaking and me taking it all in. He gave me a copy of The Hobbit to read. The story enthralled me, but it was also the love and kindness of a man who saw beyond the shy and anxious child and treated me like someone worthy of sharing treasures with.
And that is my heart-felt focus now. To see others. To share a moment with them. Whether by celebrating something that is important to them, or looking beyond who they seem to be and letting their soul reach out and connect. Even if they don’t yet know how to.
Just recently I saw one of my students lovingly and expertly cleaning, then waxing his desk in preparation for the end of year pack-up. He is a small and gentle child and doesn’t speak a lot, but when he does you can hear his intelligence and get a sense of the depth of his world beneath the surface. When I noticed how present and methodical he was as he worked on his desk, I commented on his skill. He was like a craftsman. I told him “You are a wood whisperer,” and his slight, private smile showed me that I had hit on something important to him. Later I mentioned the incident to his mum, and she said “Yes he loves crafting with wood.”
There was a story there. Just as there are a myriad of stories surrounding each of the people around us – if we are willing to take the time to see them and hear them.
It’s a work in progress to find ways to connect with others, and I want to share what I am learning with you.