To Teach is to Learn Twice

To Teach is to Learn Twice.

  ~Joseph Joubert, Pensées, 1842


For the past three and a half weeks, I had the privilege of substitute teaching in a first grade class.

I prefer fourth and fifth graders when I fill in for an absentee teacher.  First graders have not yet mastered shoe-tying skills and have small bladders.  Every time some child-person (I hear that the term “kid” is derogatory) raises his or her hand to leave, you never know if they are simply trying to avoid sitting still for the directions or if they really need to tinkle.  It’s always a risk to ignore the request, but then, there’s always the possibility that if you let them leave, they may not find their way back.  (As a side note, I was informed by one of my charges on the first day that teachers are not allowed in the boy’s bathroom.   I grasp the legal ramifications of ignoring that gem of wisdom, but as a former mother, I am quite aware of the damage that even one little boy can do in a bathroom by himself, never mind three or four. )

But, I digress.          

My Grand-daughter, Claire
and her first grade teacher

As I said, I prefer older children…at least when it comes to teaching. You can have conversations that make sense.  You can usually tell when they are being untruthful, and when they lose their lunch money, you can give them lectures on being more responsible.  First graders are too young to expect much in the way of accountability.

So, when I knew that this particular teacher might be out for an extended time instead of the one or two days for which I usually proxy, I decided that I needed to  (as the warden in “Cool Hand Luke” says)  “Get my mind right.”   I thought about something I read in a Parents Magazine before my first child was born.  The writer suggested that a new mother should “fall in love with her child.”    The article went on to say that finding the unique personality of the child, the amazing opportunities for watching the baby grow and learn, express himself and develop a sense of humor, were wonders that would deepen the relationship that a mother and child would only share for a short time before the world would make its mark on the child’s life.    I guess that I was part of that outside world now, but I recognized the element of trust that I had been given.  I needed to treat them as respectfully as their loving parents. 

And I fell in love with all of them. 

Like a proud mother, I identified the eager beavers; those who knew the answers before you asked the question.  They hold their arms up, waving impatiently, accompanied by sound effects and disappointed looks when someone else is called on for the answer.   I experienced their social network that facilitated frequent desk moving and the crushes that were largely unwelcomed by the first grade boys.

And I saw the children who were gradually being left behind.

It isn’t anyone’s fault, but it still hurts.   

I think that some children could just use another year or two at home for maturing.  However, the point is mute, unless the parent wants to home school.  Our particular system starts us all out together and the teacher has to figure out how to bring the slow starters up to speed. 

The trouble is, it takes a while to get the remediation plan implemented, and every day that goes by is a strike on the child’s self image.  During the time that I was with this class, I found myself trying to look the other way when I knew that I had just given out some Greek version of English to these children.  I did not want to hold the rest of the class back, but I knew that someone (I couldn’t be everywhere) would have to give one on one time to some of these children who would not get what we were talking about any other way. 

I took the frustration home with me every day… just as I am sure that most full time teachers do.  To do that job full time, I knew you would have to feel a personal connection, or you couldn’t be a very effective teacher.

Anyhow, by the end of the assignment, I was thinking about these lost boys and girls an awful lot.  I talked about them to my husband, invented ideas to keep them involved; I even dreamed about them.  

Then on that last Saturday, a feeling of moroseness enveloped me.   I tried to shake it off in my usual manner of putting my shoulder into something physical and I went out into the yard and began pulling weeds.  (I don’t know why I bother.  After four years in this place, there are just as many as ever.  My grandmother used to say, “All the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of today.”  So are the weeds.)  Anyway, as I worked, I couldn’t keep my mind off of the kids…er, child persons.  I started thinking that surely no one could really know if they were making a difference.  How will they survive if their problems are not discerned before their self worth is irreparably damaged?  It only takes a small amount of discouragement before some people give up on themselves.

And then, suddenly, a thought came into my mind as I worked.  I thought we are only human.  God knows our limitations in everything He has given us to do.  He can make up for those weaknesses if we ask Him. 

I had a few more days.  I began to pray for those children whom I had concerns for by name.  I left the worrying behind me and focused my energy on giving my best effort.   

Do we sometimes think that we are able to change the world because we have acquired a little knowledge?  I failed in many ways with my own children, and I have felt the pain of those mistakes. I used to see every struggle that they had (and have) as something I could have pre-empted if I had only done a better job.    This new understanding has healed my heart about those things that I wish I had done differently with my own children and has given me the freedom to enjoy the adventure of making the learning environment a place that is safe and fun, even if I don’t always have all the skills to make it educational.    

Fortunately, being a substitute teacher, I only have short windows to carry that responsibility. But if I were the full time teacher, I would make it my mission to do just what millions of good teachers do…

They listen. They question.  They remember that each student is different.  They try to elicit responses from the quiet students and push others to try the next harder problem. 

Good teachers know how to laugh.  They know how to make a joke, sometimes at their own expense, letting the students know that they are human and they are learning too.

And good teachers care, nurture and develop talents as well as minds. 

I only hope that those good teachers don’t forget that they can’t do it alone.  It’s another way that Christ’s atonement makes up for all our shortcomings. I only had a little time in the trenches, but I needed that reminder.   We do our best and, in some way that we may never understand in this life, He will make those weak things strong.

D&C 90: 24    Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and ^call things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another.

Free Speech for American Fleas

            At one time, people talked and joked about “flea circuses.”  I, for one, did not know that there actually was such a thing, but recently I read about how fleas were “trained” for such an event.

 

Anyone who has had a pet with fleas knows that the nasty things are incredible jumpers.  After the trainer collects them and puts them into a jar, a lid is placed on the jar to keep them contained.  At first, one might hear them bump against the lid, but in only a short time, most of them will learn to jump to a height of only a fraction of an inch below the lid. 

When this happens, a flea trainer can remove the lid from the jar.  The fleas will continue to jump, but they will not jump out of the jar.  The reason?  They have conditioned themselves to jump only so high.  Once they have been conditioned to jump to a certain height, they will never again exceed that height.

I think that, in some ways, government intervention is training Americans to reach heights that are far below what we once dreamed of achieving. Regulations that have capped productivity and creativeness have become tighter and tighter over the years. 

My personal feeling is that some people in government positions actually have a secret goal to hold down the entrepreneurial spirit in Americans.  They want to take away America’s exceptional spirit for achieving things that are, in other countries, unattainable.   

I cannot imagine why any elected official would want to do this.  Perhaps they feel some obligation to fall in line with some international guidelines that they believe are more “fair” to the rest of the world.  For instance, if they have adopted the philosophy that the world needs to be more “green,” they may feel that Americans are using more than their fair share of the world’s resources.  Maybe these politicians have some high-minded ideas that we can actually do away with world hunger by taking from “mega-producers” and spreading the wealth around.  

Or, perhaps it is nothing more than wanting to be the one in control of everyone else’s fun…a class monitor trying to make everyone else behave. 

The worst part of it all is that the American public has fallen in line with these power hungry monsters. 

I was just a kid when my parents began thinking about joining a new movement called  “The John Birch Society.” This group was organized to, among other things, hold up the original interpretation of the U.S. Constitution, limit government powers and oppose wealth redistribution.    They opposed socialism, fascism and communism as well.

I listened to my parents talk about joining this group for quite some time.  I guess I didn’t fully understand it all, but my mother talked to me about it enough that I understood the idea that they were joining a “watchdog” group. Eventually they decided not to involve themselves… not because what was being proposed was right or wrong, but because their friends were telling them that the group was too radical. 

Later, my mother would point out to me that I shouldn’t make choices in my life based on peer pressure.  (We all heard that line, right?)  But what had they based their choice on?

The conversations we had opened my eyes to a lifetime observation that there has been a war for the hearts and minds of this free people since the very beginning.  But it is only lately that I have really become irritated by the thought and speech control that seems to becoming stronger and more inclusive.   The recent hoopla over “Chick-fil-a’s” CEO’s statements about marriage is a good example of how a minority wants to guilt others into changing their personal attitudes.   Right or wrong, an individual should be able to say what they think without anyone taking any kind of action more than an independent boycott.   What ever made people think that they have the right to tell anyone else how to think? 

How about the so-called “fairness doctrine” that keeps getting reintroduced?  (A doctrine that broadcasters offer equal amount of liberal and conservative commentary)  

Why should any private station have to broadcast anything other than what they want to air?   America is supposed to be a free country!

I have five children whose thinking, individually, is wildly different than mine on several issues.   I have to admit that, occasionally, it is difficult for me to accept their ideas.   I even try to reason with them to see things differently.  But in the end, I try to respect the idea that they are free to believe what they will and also, to teach their philosophies to their children. 

Another tool to stop us from discussing whatever controversial topic is the current “elephant in the room” is the suggestion that people should not engage in topics that are “disagreeable.” Unions, tax increases, and Foreign Involvements are only some of the topics that have been deemed inappropriate for polite discussions.  Well, I for one have decided that we need to start having some real dialogue without worrying so much about whether someone agrees with us before we express our ideas. 

That does not mean that we need to create bad feelings with friends and family.   Hugh Blair, a theologian in the 1700’s said, “Gentleness corrects whatever is offensive in our manner.”

Last year, I began calling my neighbors to get them to come to a precinct meeting at our little town hall.  I was shocked to learn that one of my friends was not from the same party that I was affiliated with.  When I had asked her to come out, she politely explained that she was not of that party.  We talked about my surprise at this news and then we went on to another topic.  Neither of us was offended. 

Two days ago, one of my Face book friends posted something on her timeline that I strongly disagreed with.  I tried to give my opinion as politely as I could.  She responded as politely as she was able.  It wasn’t much, but we exchanged ideas and I don’t think either of us was offended.   The point is, we each were able to respectfully “stand our ground.”

Maybe some of us like those benign conversations about the changes in our child’s napping schedule, the route we take to work or the trick we taught our dog last night. (Andy Rooney once said, “If dogs could talk, it would take a lot of the fun out of owning one.”)

But back to American fleas.  We have to get over these silly rules that will not allow us to really talk and understand each other.  We used to have clean speech laws that monitored common decency on the airwaves.  Those laws have been relaxed to be practically non-existent, while rules about expressing ideas have become stronger. We are putting a lid on our ability to think through the problems that plague our nation…a lid that will limit our potential. 

     And, we may never be able to exceed that height again.

It’s Our Turn...

The following is a portion of Bill’s remarks at the Tooele Stake Conference Priesthood Session.                                           April 2012

Richard P. Lindsey has passed away but he was once a member of the quorum of the Seventy told the following story:

“I wanted our sons to have the blessing of being shepherds to farm animals. Our older sons were each provided with a ewe to teach them the responsibility of caring for these sheep.

Our six year old son, called me excitedly at my office one cold March morning on the phone and said, “Daddy, guess what? Esther has just had two baby lambs. Please come home and help me take care of them.” I instructed Gordon to watch the lambs carefully and make sure they received the mother’s milk and they would be fine. I was interrupted by a second phone call later in the morning with the same little voice on the other end saying, “Daddy, these lambs aren’t doing very well. They haven’t been able to get milk from the mother, and they are very cold. Please come home.”

Being very busy, I responded, “Gordon, the lambs will be all right. You just watch them, and when Daddy comes home we will make sure they get mother’s milk and everything will be fine.”

Again, later in the afternoon I received a third, more urgent call. Now the voice on the other end was pleading. “Daddy, you’ve got to come home now. Those lambs are lying down, and one of them looks very cold.”

Despite work pressures, I now felt some real concern and tried to reassure my son by saying, “Gordon, bring the lambs into the house. Rub them with a gunnysack to make them warm. When Daddy comes home in a little while, we will milk the mother, feed the lambs, and they will be fine.”

Two hours later I drove into the driveway of our home and was met by a boy with tear-stained eyes, carrying a dead lamb in his arms. His grief was overwhelming. Now I tried to make amends by quickly milking the mother sheep and trying to force the milk from a bottle down the throat of the now weak, surviving lamb.

At this point, Gordon walked out of the room and came back with a hopeful look in his eyes. He said, “Daddy, I’ve prayed that we will be able to save this lamb, and I feel it will be all right.”

The sad note to this story...is that within a few minutes the second lamb was dead. Then with a look that I will remember forever, this little six-year-old boy who had lost both of his lambs looked up into his father’s face and with tears running down his cheeks said, “Daddy, if you had come home when I first called you, we could have saved them both.”

The trust that our friends and family will place in us all of our lives is sacred.  When we endeavor to serve as the Savior serves, our influence will be so powerful that we will be able to change the course of people’s lives.

Some men believe that the personal choices they make with their time and money will not affect those around them. They see themselves exempt from the rules they expect their wives and children to maintain, never believing that they are hurting anyone else with their weaknesses.   But the responsibility they have to lead their families in righteousness is very personal, just as it was for this man who learned the hard way that his son was looking to him for guidance and example. 

It is personal because only as an individual, can you develop a firm faith in God and a passion for personal prayer. Only as an individual can you keep the commandments.  Only as an individual can you repent. Only as an individual can you qualify for the ordinances of salvation and exaltation.

Throughout your life you will have a wide variety of duties and responsibilities. Many of these are temporary and you may feel relieved when you are finally released from them.   However, keeping the Boy Scout motto in mind of  “Be Prepared” will help us be ready whenever the Lord needs us.

When asked if it was difficult to make a transition from his former assignment to that of being called as an apostle, President David Bednar said, “There was no formal orientation, just an expectation to act, to participate and to render judgment as if I had always been there….” This could not have happened had he lived in any way contrary to the righteous way that he needed to be living every single day. 

Although our church assignments will continually change, you will never be released from responsibilities related to your personal and family development.

Remembering who you are will help you to live worthily so that you can exercise the priesthood in righteousness. Power comes from exercising that authority in righteousness.

As a young officer in the Canadian army, President Hugh B. Brown was permitted to go to an officer’s club for entertainment.   He soon realized it was not the kind of entertainment that a righteous priesthood holder would wish to engage in.  As he walked around somewhat lonely, he noticed that sitting away on the side, not enjoying this entertainment either, was a young British officer.  President Brown walked around to where this young British officer was sitting and he said, ”You don’t seem to be enjoying this kind of a party.”

The young man stood up, and said, “No, sir. I can’t engage in this kind of activity because I am a member of the royal household of England.  I can’t stoop to do this kind of thing.”

As the young British officer walked away, Brother Brown said, “Neither can I because I am a member of the royal household of God.” 

Why WERE you so blessed to live in this day and age to be trusted with the power of the Priesthood? Out of the billions and billions of humans that have come and gone over the last 50,000 years, and the tens of thousands of organized religions, why were you chosen?

In Abraham 3:  22   it says:      “Now the Lord had shown unto me, Abraham, the ⁱntelligences that were organized before the world was; and among all these there were many of the noble and great ones;

 23 And God saw these souls that they were good, and he stood in the midst of them, and he said: These I will make my rulers; for he stood among those that were spirits, and he saw that they were good…”

And so, we see that in the pre-mortal life, certain people were foreordained, or chosen, to be born into the house of Israel and receive special blessings and responsibilities. The fulfillment of these blessings depends on their willingness to follow Jesus Christ.

President Monson was once speaking to the youth. He reminded them of something that we should all keep in mind when it comes to the fact that we are living at a special time in the world’s history.  This is what he said:

“You, the youth of the church today, were generals in the war in heaven.  Someday, when you are back in the Spirit World you will be enthralled by other souls who will be from so many other interesting periods of time and who lived during the time of many great prophets. 

You may ask one person, ‘When did you live?’ And you will hear something like... ‘I was with Moses when he parted the Red Sea’ or ‘I fought with Captain Moroni.’ 

As you stand there amazed at the people that you are with, someone will ask you which prophet’s time you lived during.  And when you tell them that you lived during the time of President Benson, President Hunter and President Hinckley, a hush will fall over the corridors of heaven and all in attendance will bow in your presence. 

You were held 6000 years because you were the most talented, most obedient, most courageous, and the most righteous.

 Are you still?”

It is no mistake that you are here during this closing chapter of the earth’s history.  We are the keepers of the Lord’s precious flock and we must be there with the lambs when we are needed. We must teach with love, principles of faith, and goodness and be righteous examples.  The world is desperate for decisive moral leadership.

I leave my witness that this is God’s work. It is the most important work in which we can be engaged. That we will be instruments in His hands in saving the precious lambs for which He gave His life, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ.

Closing the Door

Men stumble over the truth from time to time, but most pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing happened.

                                                         -- Winston Churchill

Every now and then I see something on Face Book that says something cheesy about just being who you are and not to worry about what other people say.  I hate those kinds of meaningless quotes.  I mean, really. Who forgets what people say or think about them?

If there is one thing I admire about politicians,  (yes…I actually thought of one thing!)  …it is the fact that they persevere through the election process when there is always a large group of people who hate them…. whoever they are.  I just finished reading “Killing Lincoln” and I was surprised to read about how hated he was.  I shouldn’t have been surprised because, after all, he presided over the country during the Civil War.  But now, years later, he is our most beloved president.   It’s just hard to think of anyone really hating him.

A modern day artist and author, Sabrina Ward Harrison (Spilling Open; The Art of Becoming Yourself) wrote this:

I am afraid to show you who I really am, because if I show you who I really am, you might not like it –

                                                            And that’s all I got.

Now that’s an honest thing to say. 

The last few nights I gave some serious thought to not writing anymore. I received a hurtful email from someone I admired, and even though I was pretty sure there was an underlying reason that she wrote what she did that had nothing at all to do with me… something that she said has undermined my confidence. 

At first I let it go on by.  But then, I started thinking that maybe others felt like her. What I say when I write might be getting under someone else’s skin too…even when I am trying hard to be respectful, which is something that I feel is not often practiced these days.

So, I have this dilemma.  I started writing to purge.  I could tell that my family was getting tired of listening to me hold court on some political subject or religious view when we got together…and frankly, I don’t express myself very well verbally.   I can write things down and get rid of it. 

Sometimes I have to do a little research to get it right and that always helps me sort things out.  But whatever I write, I almost always feel better.  Even this little confession is giving me a forum to make a decision.

Barbara Kingsolver (The Poisonwood Bible) said:

"Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer."


But does anyone really care? 

Today, my 88-year-old father came over for Sunday dinner.  He tried to talk to us about the only things left that he could have an opinion about; only to have us all tell him that he was wrong to feel as he did.  He felt ‘light headed,’ he said.  “You don’t drink enough water,” we told him.  He said, “The meals at the assisted living are tasteless.” “You eat too much junk food. You ruin your appetite.”  Soon he sat quietly eating his meal, offering nothing else up for discussion.  

Dad doesn’t make much of an effort to connect with anyone anymore.   Maybe that is one of the signs of old age…deciding that your thoughts and ideas have no merit. 

So, here I am.  I can write about events like air shows, great restaurants that you might like to try, or even how to make goat cheese.  And you might read.  At least I won’t offend you. 

Or I can just be myself, a person who loves to write about meaning in something as mundane as exercise or babysitting or running out of gas on the freeway.

And I really hope that it’s OK with you.  If it isn’t, I hope I can take the cheesy advice I hate to see on Face Book. 

Flawless Diamonds

-By Bill Nelson 

One day, a man purchased a pair of diamond earrings as a gift for his wife. The wife was sincerely touched that he had remembered their anniversary and the husband beamed to see his wife so pleased.  She had once mentioned that someday she would like such a pair of earrings to match her wedding band.  He had saved a little each month for several years in order to buy them.  The only problem was that his wife, thinking that there was no way in the world the husband could have afforded real diamonds, thought they were cubic zirconium. 

In the month that followed, she wore the earrings casually.  She was careless when she put them on and took them off, and finally she misplaced one.  When she told her husband, he became very concerned.  Only then did she realize that the diamonds were real.  The worth of the stones had never changed.  What had changed was how she valued the stones. 

What is the difference between a person we value as a beautiful diamond and one who is merely an artificial substitute? 

The answer is that in God’s eyes, we are all diamonds.  It is the image we have of ourselves that will make us into what others see.

My wife and I recently watched a movie that was staged during the big band era.  Benny Goodman was a rather ordinary looking man in rimless glasses and a conservative business suit; but he was also a man who could play the clarinet like no other before or since.  This made Benny Goodman a unique individual.

Many people in history stand out from the crowd like Benny Goodman. Albert Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Teresa and Robert E. Lee are only a few. They were recognized by the world and honored for no other reason than because they sought for excellence.  They DID something that made others take notice.

When people wear garish clothes, dye their hair strange colors and decorate their skin, they are only drawing attention to what they are on the outside. But an ordinary guy who has dyed his hair purple or orange, is nothing more than an ordinary guy with funny looking hair. 

But almost everyone can appreciate the worth of an individual when we see someone who strives for excellence.  Those people who invent, who improvise, who know more about a subject than other people do and who take something that doesn’t work and make it work – these are the people who gain more than a glance as we pass them in the parking lot.   Those who love and serve without expecting recognition, perform tedious jobs without complaint …live Christlike lives…are the people that set a standard for the rest of us.

An old priest told a wealthy Persian named Ali Hafed that if he had a diamond the size of his thumb, he could purchase a dozen farms.

“Find a river that runs through white sand, between high mountains  In those white sands you will find diamonds.”

Ali Hafed made up his mind to find diamonds. He sold his farm, but after many years of searching, he had spent all of his money.  He passed away in rags.

Meanwhile, the man who purchased Ali Hafed’s farm one day led his camel out into the garden to drink.  As the animal put his nose into the shallow waters, the farmer noticed a curious flash of light in the white sands of the stream. Reaching in, he pulled out a black stone containing a strange eye of light. In the black stone was a diamond. According to the story, this marked the discovery of the most valuable diamond mines in the history of the ancient world.

Had Ali Hafed remained at home and dug in his own cellar or anywhere in his own fields, rather than traveling in strange lands where he eventually faced starvation and ruin, he would have had “acres of diamonds.” 1

How many times do we look for our happiness at a distance in space or time rather than right now, in our own homes, with our own families and friends?

When we look for opportunities to serve others, or when we invite purity into our own lives and into the world that surrounds us, we find beautiful diamonds in our own backyards.

As a young man, the son of King Louis XVI of France was kidnapped by evil men who had dethroned his father. These men tried to destroy him morally, knowing that he would then be unworthy to inherit the  throne. For six months they subjected him to every vile thing life had to offer, and yet he never yielded under pressure. This puzzled his captors, and after doing everything they could think of, they asked him why he had such great moral strength. His reply, “I cannot do what you ask, for I was born to be a king.”

Like the king’s son, each of us have inherited a royal birthright; a divine heritage. Virtue, kindness, goodness, and charity, or sharing our talents for the happiness of others...these things develop the inner beauty of a person.  This is the beauty that really matters, the beautiful lasting diamonds in our lives.

Benny Goodman performed his music with excellance for his appreciative audiences in a plain business suit and dress shoes.  He was one of those ordinary people who wanted to be the best that they could be…

Diamonds  shining in white sand.  

“Wrestling Pigs in a Clean White Shirt” released!

We wish to say thank you to our friends who have been so supportive and encouraging during the months it’s taken to get our book published. 

Being new to the process, we thought that the paperbacks would not be available until June 26th, but we are excited to announce that it can now be purchased online from Tate Publishing in paperback or e-book.    ( We have included the link)

We hope you will order a copy. It might make a good read for a book club as well.  

Bill and Diane Nelson 

http://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=9781618626516

S O S

People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one.

                                                                                                     ~Leo J. Burke


…Or a flat screen TV in their bedroom that turns itself on several times every night.

I started writing this blog at a little after 3 AM.  Most nights, when I am not worrying about my children or about how I am going to squeeze 37 activities into the four good hours of energy I might have tomorrow, I sleep well. 

That is,  until the TV comes on. 

                                                                                                                                                     

Any sane person would just move the darn thing into   another room.  But it would take major wall surgery to move the umbilical cord, called a cable, which connects us to our ‘No Spin’ addiction.     Besides, how would we get to sleep at night if we move it into the other room?  (I’m only mildly joking about this.)   

While I totally agree that we watch entirely too much TV (I actually used an episode of NCIS to teach my grandson an important life lesson the other day…Right! I know…sick!)  But that is a subject for another day’s blog, one that you won’t see very soon. 

The problem right now is the television that turns itself on.  My husband can fix pretty much anything, but this even has him stumped.  It might be that we don’t think about it too much during the day, and then when it snaps on with an infomercial featuring noisy blender recipes, it becomes a major priority on the list of tomorrow’s ‘to do’s.’ 

And that might not be so bad if it only happened once a night.  Sometimes we get awakened 2 or 3 times; leading me to believe it has something to do with the DVR programming. 

Anyway, once I am awake, my brain jumps into high gear.  The first thing I think of is that, tomorrow, I am going to find a pad of paper and a pencil and put it by my bed so that I can write down all the genius thoughts that come to me in the middle of the night, because the main thing that keeps me from being able to drop back off is the thought that “I can’t forget this!”   (Most of these ideas, for some reason, involve Bill fixing something or building something…don’t ask me why.)   

Other nights, I think about things I want to write about.  I’ll work on it all night like a bad song stuck in my head, until the next time I sit down to write and I can’t think of anything interesting…like now.  I guess I should have lain in bed awhile before getting up to write this…

I sew things, move furniture and decorate rooms (with lots of built-ins via Bill’s help), pack for trips and make long lists of things I shouldn’t forget to take, plan new exercise routines (which never get implemented), and plan birthday and holiday celebrations right down to the napkin rings.   

I wake exhausted. 

We have got to figure out how to fix that TV. 

Insomnia is a gross feeder.  It will nourish itself on any kind of thinking, including thinking about not thinking. 

                                                                              ~Clifton Fadiman