This was originally posted on http://www.yetthereismethod.net/
It’s not an uncommon thing for me to laugh at school (I teach third graders) and have one of my students ask what I think is so funny.
“My lot in life,” I’ll tell them, “My lot in life.” I mean that in the best way, really, I do. I wouldn’t trade where I’m at and what I’m doing for anything. Okay, maybe for something, but what that might be doesn’t spring to mind right now.
This past week I emphasized cause and effect in my reading lessons. I especially wanted to help my students understand how an effect can serve as a cause which leads to another effect which can, in turn, serve as a cause and so on. (Bonus points next week if they can remember “causal chain.” Such a cool sounding phrase.)
I’ve said all that because just this morning I stood in my bedroom and chuckled as I picked up a leash I’d recently made. My chuckle wasn’t the belly laugh that my students usually hear; rather, it was in quiet amazement at some of the relationships and situations I’m a part of. The leash wasn’t a dog leash–it was a raptor leash, something I’ve made to give to one of my friends who is an environmental educator working with birds of prey.
Several years ago I attended an environmental education conference on a whim. I’ve always loved nature and the outdoors, but this was something different and out of my comfort zone. I’ll skip over the causal chain, but now I’ve got several friends who work with birds of prey ranging from tiny screech owls to majestic bald eagles. I’m not even a novice with raptors, but through these relationships I’ve worked with and held several of these incredible birds. Being literally eye to eye with a great horned owl or red-tailed hawk is an experience that leaves me in awe every time.
The friends I’ve made and the ability to work with rope has led me to stand and chuckle, letting a few feet of leash run through my fingers.
My lot in life, indeed. My lot in life.