Showing posts with label spirited. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirited. Show all posts

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Pre-poetry micro-challenge: Update (or: Day-what?)

                                                       


When seasons collide, the best things happen. Morning frost limns bloodred maples in shining rime. A tree full of Canadian flags rustle, pend in the wind. They wait their turn to leap into the unknown, ripe for hands to pick, feet to stomp, crayons to rub, practised fingers to arrange. What could be more heartening food for the soul than the brilliant splash of colour, roaring a challenge to frigid despair, yet grinning welcome to the promised death and renaissance of winter to come.It's become obvious to me (and maybe to you, if you've noted the paucity of posts in the past weeks) that the quotidian scheduling of this challenge is incompatible with my new school-year schedule.


Gilt butterflies, goldleaf petals whisked on wind and sunshine, enticed up and upward to the light, light and ethereal, golden moths to a shining flame. Aphrodite wishes, a sure thing, never tarnished, never perishing, good as gold, word is bond.At first I was sad, figuring I would eventually just sort of "time out" and abandon the challenge. However, in keeping with many new ways of thinking that seem to have stolen over me over the past two or so months, I realized that just because I wasn't keeping up with it as I'd originally hoped, didn't mean I had to abandon the project entirely or start over in order to maintain the illusion that everything I do is perfect if I do it at all. After all, I could see that I was actually getting something out of it. Turns out this "forming a habit of forming habits" thing is actually where I needed to start. (Talk about "starting from where you're at". Who knew applying teaching methodology to myself could effect measurable results?)

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

More on passion: Why don't I?

There are things I often lament not doing more or making more time for, but rarely feel motivated to do when it seems I do have time:

Monday, December 26, 2011

What am I passionate about?

It's a question you wouldn't think I'd have to actually ask. I mean, the answer lies within me and really, I'm the one who ought to know it. I ought to know it all the time, right? I mean, how can you be passionate about something and not know? A niggle of dread teases at my consciousness as I consider the possibility that I'm not passionate about anything. I mean, if I don't know, I must not be, right?

Well. Reading some back-dated blogs today, as I catch up on my me-time, I've decided to put the question out there, to myself and to the universe. I don't expect answers to come from readers (though if ideas come to you, I'd be interested to hear what those who know me or read what I write see me as passionate about). Simply, I felt the need to write, and to do and to write about something I'm passionate about. And since I'm not sure just now, what that is just now, the result is this: the question itself.


Sunday, May 22, 2011

The pool of Narcissus

Inspired by a tweet in the Twitter feed #50thingsihate, this one relates an experience I often have on the bus or the subway -- a sense of irritation when people display sour and disapproving reactions to another patron's awkwardness or oblviousness, followed by the guilty prickle of irony.




Self-righteousness
Fed up with these pious egotists – all disapproval whenever someone steps out of line. Who are you to judge? I shake my head. The temerity. 

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Buzzing with anticipation

As happens every year around this time, I feel like my body is buzzing with anticipation this week. Christmas is SO CLOSE, but somehow, impossibly, sooooooo far away. I want to get everything ready, but there are so many things that just have to wait until closer to the time, and other things that could be done right now only they just aren't mine to control. Waiting drives me crazy. I'm literally vibrating with the need to do something and cross it off my list. But I love being excited about Christmas. I feel good -- so far!


I'm starting to learn that there is more than one meaning behind the concept of patience. There's patience with people, which involves compassion and understanding, and then there's patience with waiting, which involves calmness and, well, waiting. The first kind of patience, where you allow people to work things out without undue interference, is pretty important in my profession. I'm passionate about working with children and about facilitating their steps toward independence, so I have to be willing to let them go slowly and do things their own way, but still be there to observe and help them along.

As for the waiting calmly part, I'll admit I'm not always the best at that. I like efficiency, and like many people, I tend to think that the way I've worked out oh-so-logically is the most efficient possible way, and so I can be quick to jump in and take over when I forget myself. Ask any seven-year-old -- when you think you know the answer, it's hard to refrain from blurting it out.

However, I think what do I have tons of is compassion and understanding. When I have the patience to listen, and to ask questions that aim to help me understand the other person's narrative instead of to satisfy my own (admittedly voracious) curiosity, I'm pretty good at understanding others' perspectives, and empathy is something I sometimes feel like I'm up to my eyeballs in. I love the kids I work with, and to be honest, working with them helps me rethink the way I interact with adults as well.

Lately, I've been working (with middling success, but that's not exactly failure, right?) on listening more and offering my unsolicited opinion less. It's a work in progress; acceptance of things the way they are instead of the way I think they should be is a huge stumbling block that I'm slowly chipping away at, but obviously, as demonstrated by my little Christmas mini-freak-out above, important to the peaceful living of everyday life. So... patience.


One thing I wish there were a magical formula for is the "right" amount of involvement in other people's issues. How do you know who, how, when? Is there an age, or a degree of social separation, at which it is appropriate to offer one's opinions and advice and concerns without solicitation? Is there a certain type of body language or a certain set of key phrases that are supposed to cue us to action? As a teacher, as a family member, as a friend, I find it hard to know when to step in and when to butt out of other people's problems -- and it seems as though every person and every situation has a different threshold.


To those of you who have seen the know-it-all side of me (maybe that's all of you... well, so be it then), I apologize for those times when it gets annoying or uncomfortable, and I hope it's balanced by at least a few helpful instances. I promise you, I mean well. And please, please, feel free to simply say, "I'm not really looking for advice right now. I just want you to listen." Or, even better, tell me how you think I could be most helpful to you. I promise, I will do my best to have patience.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Defining D (or: The Life of the Spirited Adult)

Today my therapist used the word "spirited" in reference to some of the personal traits I was describing to her.

We were talking about how I feel the impact of small events, particularly small disappointments, very strongly, and how I have a really tough time emotionally, when it comes to handling transitions smoothly and positively. I had said that, like any person who's done a few undergrad psych courses, I sometimes look at the characteristics they mention of certain disorders and see myself. A major recognizable trait that can help diagnose Asperger's Syndrome, for example, is difficulty handling transitions. I have difficulty handling transitions, so it makes me wonder...

But no, my therapist said. The difference is that for me, I have difficulty handling transitions, but, you know, I do handle them, if poorly. Whereas a person with autism or Asperger's, on encountering an unexpected transitional moment, might instead, to use the vulgar term, lose their shit.

So, "spirited".

Apparently it's a term mostly used to refer to children when they have one or more specific character traits, such as liveliness, sensitivity, persistence, in intensity higher than most children. These traits may tend to make their own childhoods and the task of parenting and teaching them more challenging than usual.

I thought it an interesting and highly specific use of a word that usually has a fairly obvious, everyday connotation. Previously, hearing somebody use the term "spirited child" I would have directly equated this to hyperactivity or defiance, and not thought any other interpretation possible. Since I'm by no means a hyper or defiant person, I decided to look up this particular usage in order to better understand its meaning. What I found was pretty interesting to me, both personally and as a teacher of young kids.

First of all, I get the sense that the term is not incredibly well-known. Although Yahoo.ca produced some 13 million results for "spirited children", Google.ca produced less than 60,000 (I suspect some of the difference may include results from the same website, which Google may have counted as the same and Yahoo as different results, but not sure). Furthermore, I've never heard the word used this way, and I work with children on a daily basis. Nonetheless, taken by itself, the term "spirited" to refer to people who tend to do things differently from the mainstream of society, and as a result may have trouble conforming, seems like a much nicer and more positive way of identifying those characteristics than "difficult" or even the more politically correct "high-needs". It may be less specific, but it's certainly more encouraging. 

My research wasn't exhaustive, but in the pages I did look at, the most helpful description I found of what a "spirited child" is was on the "canadianparents.com" forum, where they have a subforum specifically called "Spirited Children". One user posts both a description, and a list of character traits as follows (I've edited for ease of reading), though so far I have not figured out her source: 

Description
All children possess the characteristics of being intense, persistent, sensitive, perceptive, and uncomfortable with change, but a spirited child experiences one or more of these characteristics more than another child. There is more depth, and range to a spirited child's characteristics and emotions.

Characteristics
Here is a quick rundown of the characteristics of a spirited child, and the bonus characteristics.
Remember that your spirited child may or may not possess all these characteristics, but they will experience one or more of them more than others.
Intensity:
  • An intense child is loud, dramatic; they don't cry, they shriek. They are noisy at play, laughing, and love to sing at the top of their lungs.
  • They can also be the quiet intent observant child. They assess the situation and size it up before entering a situation. Their intensity is focused inward.
  • No matter where their intensity is focused their temper tantrums are raw and enduring.
Persistence:
  • They lock into what is important to them -- ideas, activities or tasks. They are goal oriented and don't give up easily. They love to debate and getting them to change their minds is a great undertaking. They are not afraid to assert themselves.
Sensitivity:
  • Quick to respond to noise smells lights, textures, or changes in mood. They are overwhelmed in crowds and are keenly aware. Every sensation and emotion is absorbed by them, including your feelings.
  • This is the child who can't stand a tag in their shirt, or being in crowds, or tells you when you are in a bad mood before you realize you're in a bad mood.
Perceptiveness:
  • They notice everything! They are often accused of not listening. They are distracted easily by the birds in the window, or a commercial on the television. You send them to put their shoes on, but they get distracted by the toy they found beside their shoe.
Adaptability:
  • Uncomfortable with change. They don't like surprises and have a hard time shifting from one activity to another, or from one idea to another. This is the child who gets upset if they were expecting to go to the park but couldn't because it rained.
Here are some of the "bonus" characteristics. Bonus characteristics are not common with all spirited children.

Regularity:
  • Impossible to to get them on any schedule. It's hard to figure out when they will sleep or be hungry.
Energy:
  • Not all spirited children are energetic; those who are take things apart then put them back together again. They are jumping crawling and climbing. They are on the go until they fall asleep. They may seem wild, but their energy usually has a purpose.
First Reaction:
  • Quick withdrawal from anything new. Unfamiliar ideas, places, people or situations may result in a vehement no. They need time to warm up before they are ready to participate or talk to someone new.
Mood:
  • They are analytical, pick apart experiences, find flaws, and make suggestions for change. Smiles are rare, and their world is a serious place for spirited children.


I see myself in a lot of these characteristics, I'm not a high-energy person, but most of the other traits apply to me to a fairly high degree. I think if I had to be specific, my most notable charcteristics would be sensitivity, perceptiveness, low adaptability, and standoffish first reactions.

Interestingly, I found it tough to find information on how to deal with these traits of spiritedness positively as an adult, in circumstances where they become maladaptive. However, that's what therapy's for, I suppose. And just having a word for myself that encompasses both my normalness and my abnormalness, and doesn't make me feel crazy for feeling generally uneasy in the world though I constantly seek peace, and though everyone else seems to think I'm fiiiiiine, lets me breathe easier. Right now I'm working on being proactive and turning uncomfortable experiences into learning for the future (i.e. what would I do differently next time?), as well as acknowledging and accepting my difficulty with transitions and dealing with that in a way that will let me move on from the emotional upset more quickly (i.e. yep, it rained and we were stuck indoors, but I couldn't have prevented it, and hopefully getting some exercise now will make me feel better.).