Recently a good friend sent me a poem written by her
granddaughter. Yes, I know, I know. We all have poems, pictures and
other nifty things produced by our progeny that make us proud. So I
was all prepared for a simple little ditty. What I hadn’t expected
was for it to blow me away.
Recently a good friend sent me a poem written by her granddaughter. Yes, I know, I know. We all have poems, pictures and other nifty things produced by our progeny that make us proud. So I was all prepared for a simple little ditty. What I hadn’t expected was for it to blow me away.
Chloe, the poem’s author, is in fifth grade. Ten years old. But way beyond her years in her pre-pubescent little soul. Because in writing her poem, Chloe touched on something intensely fundamental to the process we humans have of connecting to something much larger than ourselves. We need that connection. We crave it. Especially these days.
So I was happy when I read Chloe’s poem, entitled “Connected to the Ocean.” With education being such an important issue these days, it’s nice to remember that there are teachers – quite a few of them in fact – that inherently know how to approach the preternatural qualities of a child. To allow a child to explore the possibility that not everything can be explained by an equation or a history test. And that sometimes the exploration of the soul is as important as the study of a rainforest.
Chloe’s teacher took her class on a field trip to the Marine Headlands and then asked the kids to write a paper on how they felt connected to the ocean. Now here’s what I’m thinking: maybe we all need to do that. Take a field trip. Write a paper. Examine our own life and find the good in it. Or acknowledge that if life isn’t so great right now there are still meaningful ways of coping. We just need to find them. And accept that things will get better.
But don’t take my word for it. Read Chloe’s poem and see if it doesn’t challenge you to examine what it is in your world that speaks to you. Perhaps, like Chloe, your muse is in the sea. Maybe you renew yourself with a hike through a canyon. Or by witnessing the presence of a deer picking her way along a forest floor with her young fawn close at her side. Maybe it’s simply resting in a comfortable old rocking chair on the porch as you listen to the birds’ songs or jumping into your truck for a relaxing cruise with the windows down, breathing in the loamy scent of a world freshened by a good rain. Here’s how Chloe’s spirit listens to the sea:
“I am connected to the Ocean by how the waves splash against the rocks. When the Ocean’s misty breeze hits against my face. I sometimes feel like the sea. The brown spots that are different are like when I change schools. I need it.
“The Ocean holds the fish we eat and the plankton that provides air. I love when it looks like the Ocean is breathing. The Ocean is where I want to be in my after life, even though I don’t like to go into the Ocean because of the creatures that are in there like sharks. I love the seals, the jellyfish and the sea stars. I just enjoy sitting and watching it breathe.
“The Ocean tells you what your day will be like. If the sea is calm you are going to have a good day. I don’t like it when the waves are rustling with fury as if something terrible is going to happen and how the seaweed washes up to the shore. When I see the sea I feel calm.
“When I feel alone or sad, I picture myself at the sea. The sea is my friend though it can’t always be there. The ocean talks when it hits the rocks. When the waves hit each other you hear a clap like it is checking on you. When the sun sets the sea is so beautiful. The ocean is the cycle of the living and the dead. Your soul just drifts into the sunset.”
I hope Chloe’s awareness of the connection of her spirit to the world around her is never extinguished. I’m thankful for the public school teacher who encouraged her students to think about how they connect with the ocean at a time when our planet’s future is at stake. And I’m grateful for the inspired teachers that I’ve known personally who are out there every day – Susan, Cherie, Toby, Joan, Suzie, Ashley – you and all many others who motivate kids every day to not simply learn by the book but through the heart.
And I hope teachers know how thankful we are that our children, those precious natural resources, are all better future citizens of our Earth for having known them and the brilliant lessons they impart. Every. Single. Day.
