time travel

One of the things we do at the monthly Inner Resilience workshop (for preventing teacher burn-out) is write a letter to our near-future selves - an affirmation, a reminder, advice, a realization, a prayer -- whatever it is that's on your mind in that moment. (You are perhaps aware how much I love that particular kind of cheese?)

I got it in the mail today, on pale yellow paper written in pink ink that had been slightly smeared by traveling through the ice and rain and snow. I wrote it last month at the workshop, which was the first time I really let myself acknowledge how upset I was at the loss of N--, and I really appreciated having a little window into that oasis of self-reflection. I said to myself:

You love them, and they know.
In the face of cruelty, model compassion.
In the face of frenzy, model peace.
Love yourself first, that they may also
learn to love themselves.
Be still. Be quiet. Let there be room
in your life to feel. Let them have
quiet moments of peace as well.

Thanks, inwardly resilient self!