Awesome

In light of a blog I recently read about things that are awesome, I have decided to compile a little list of my own.

1. I realized that my scream frightens small creatures. The other day, I saw a spider and screamed bloody murder until my husband ran in to be my hero. Almost as soon as I started screaming, the spider froze. I thought maybe I had killed it (like my grandmother, who did kill a mouse with her scream), but apparently the deafening noise just paralyzed it momentarily. Awesome.

2. My favorite bathroom stall at work has been out of toilet paper lately, but today I found it well-stocked. Also awesome.

3. I recently discovered Sally Hansen nail polish pens. They are pens that you click like a mechanical pencil and the nail polish comes out in perfect amounts. It's easy and fast, and now I can fix a chip on the go. Definitely awesome.

4. I was at WalMart buying approximately one million diapers for a friend today and 4 cartons milk for myself, and I saw two people I know. Now they probably think I'm pregnant. This is not so awesome.

5. I am almost done with the book I picked up from the library on Tuesday, so I will have time to read it a third time before it's due back. Awesome.

6. I have positively no plans for this evening. Wonderfully awesome.

7. My irises have finally bloomed, much later than everyone else's in our neighborhood, and I think I created a new breed. One of them is purple on the inside and yellow on the outside. Is this even supposed to exist? It is awesome.

8. People keep coming into my office to smell the fake flowers on my desk. Awesome.

9. One of my students today informed me that owls do not go #2. They spit unusable food particles out of their mouths instead. Awesome.

10. I randomly saw an old friend today. Awesome.

Please feel free to add to my list of awesomeness.

Thankful

I love living in a small town. I love the fact that my husband and I cannot go anywhere without seeing someone we know, and when I meet someone new, we can usually pinpoint a mutual acquaintance.

I realized this anew yesterday as I drove from my job at the local symphony to the "downtown" area of our city. The term "downtown" should be taken lightly, since it really consists of just a couple of streets with locally owned hole-in-the wall coffee shops and boutiques. You can drive through "downtown" in about 20 seconds if the two lights happen to be green.

In our downtown, we have a library that is staffed by several incredibly helpful white haired ladies who will talk with you about the weather and religion if nobody else is in line. After parking, I discovered with delight that my meter had 37 minutes remaining. I was headed to the library because a book I ordered had come in (Chateau of Echoes by Siri Mitchell). It's one I've read before and would like to own, but I keep requesting it from the library every time I want to re-read it instead.

Now, looking out my window at the trees and the setting sun, I feel thankful. I am truly blessed. Can anyone relate?

A Well-Earned Sticker

Last evening one of my students confessed that he was having a rough day and felt "out of it." I considered what to do in this situation for a moment. Some teachers may just accept that the lesson will be mediocre and try to shuffle through the 26 remaining minutes. I suggest a different strategy.

Instead of pitying the student his unhappy circumstances, I asked him to step it up. This lesson must be even better, more focused, more productive than a regular lesson. I told him to take a moment to set aside whatever it was that he had done prior to stepping into my studio, as well as whatever he will do once he leaves.

It was time to live in the moment. Focus solely on the task at hand. And I bet you can guess what happened then. He played his Minuet in G seamlessly by memory. It was one of the most gratifying stickers I've ever awarded.

Focus on the Blue

I found a red, melted jolly rancher stuck to my white carpet today.

Regardless of who was careless enough to leave a red jolly rancher on the carpet, I've realized that kids will be kids. And they're not malicious, they're just kids.

So when I try to explain something to a teenager who is determined to shoot down every analogy I send their way, or when a child tells me my kitchen is small, or when I find toilet paper trails coming from my half bath, I try to stop and think - this is what growing up is like. And what makes teaching so worth it is when a student finally learns how to incorporate arm vibrato, or when a 4 year old randomly stops in the middle of her song to give me a hug, or when I watch one of my students proudly walk onto a stage and perform the song we've perfected for two months.

Tonight, during a rainstorm that has lasted for about 2 months, I spotted a patch of blue sky peeking through the angry clouds. Teaching, and life in general, is like that. We can choose to focus on the storm clouds or to focus on the blue. I'm choosing to focus on the blue.

The patchwork quilt

Ok, I admit it: I almost always enjoy teaching my 23 students, but there are days when it's harder than others. I think of teaching like creating a patchwork quilt - it's different for each student. Most of the time I feel like I know what I'm talking about, but sometimes I throw something out there during a lesson for which I have no basis of thinking that it should actually solve the problem my student is facing. And sometimes - miraculously - these off-the-cuff suggestions work! I don't recommend doing this often, of course, but sometimes, you may just want to try it. Go with your instincts and see what happens.

I attempt to use this technique more often with my vocal students than with the others. The problem with the voice is that you cannot see inside a person's throat without special equipment. With violin or piano, I can tell a student that his hands should be curved on the keys or that her pinky needs to bend the way God intended, instead of sticking straight out like she's having tea with the Queen of England. Therefore, sometimes I try random exercises in order to evoke the sound I'm looking for rather than following a rigid curriculum that won't work for every student but can, in fact, be effective for some.

Has anyone else tried this technique of instinctual teaching before?