Tag Archives: reflection

The thinking that happens along the way

Yesterday I re-watched an interview I did with Dean Shareski a couple years ago (and wrote about it). In that interview I lamented that social media and blogging are not what they used to be. I felt a bit of sadness thinking about how rich the conversations were that we had ‘back in the day’… When I’d post something on my Pair-a-Dimes blog and full conversations would happen in the comments and on Twitter, and how this would sometimes even inspire another blogger to write their own post… and this is one of those posts.

From Chris Kennedy’s blog post, Building Our Noticing Muscles:

“After my recent post about What We Notice, my friend Dean Shareski left a comment that challenged me to write some more on the topic. He wondered how much of our ability to notice the little things is inherent and how much is learned. He suggested that noticing, like delight, requires us to pause long enough to appreciate what might otherwise pass us by. And he wondered if we could actually build our noticing muscles.”

Later in the post, Chris wrote a section titled, “Thinking in Blog Posts”. It starts:

“Writing this blog has had a similar effect, although in a different way.

After more than 15 years of writing Culture of Yes, I often find myself thinking in blog posts. I will see something happening in a school, hear an interesting comment in a conversation or read something that makes me curious. I wonder about it. I want to know more. Sometimes I start connecting it to other things I have seen or experienced.

This post is a good example. It began with a comment I could easily have read, appreciated and moved past. Instead, it stuck with me. Many of these ideas go nowhere. They never become posts. And that is fine. The value is often in the thinking that happens along the way.”

Thanks to Chris, I now realize that it wasn’t so much the conversations themselves I enjoyed about the old days of blogging, it was the thinking that happened along the way. And that hasn’t disappeared for me, I just find it in different places. It took a post on ‘noticing’ to help me notice what I couldn’t see. I was stuck on the ideas of lost discussion on blogs, lost engagement on social media, and didn’t notice that I still find these things. I still have my thinking changed by friends, and bloggers like Chris and Dean. I still have my thinking changed on social media, but more likely on TikTok rather than on Twitter.

For years I’ve felt like we passed the golden years of blogging and something was missing. Now I can see that while things changed, I’m still finding ways to push my thinking, and inspire my writing. I feel like I’m seeing both the past and present with new eyes, noticing the differences without placing judgement that ‘things were better back in the day’.

Chris ends his post (well worth reading) thinking about schools and how we need to slow things down sometimes so that students can notice things too. I feel this. I read the post this morning, started ‘thinking in blog posts’ and wondering how to put these ideas together, but I needed time to let it brew in my brain, for me to notice the connections I wanted to share. And so this post became about the thinking along the way, and not just about the nostalgia of the old days of blogging.

I owe Chris and Dean gratitude for helping me to reframe my thinking, and notice that while the sharing, engagement and connections have changed, there are still many wonderful ways that my thinking is challenged. I need not feel remorse for the loss of the way things were… there are a lot a great ways to excite and inspire my thinking and blogging today.

Still an excitement

I’ve had zero regrets about choosing to retire. I was invited to visit my old schools on October 1st, and I stayed for about 3 hours. It was wonderful to connect with staff and students… and then I left.

No pangs. No doubt. No sorrow. And then I went to Ontario for 23 days. I had a very long October holiday, something I hadn’t done/couldn’t do in almost 30 years. It was wonderful.

Yesterday I spent a beautiful day on a boat with a friend. I ended up staying over at his place thanks to a flat tire. Today we had a workout when I’d normally be heading to work, then we had an in-depth conversation about education. I then came home and was looking for something I wrote on my blog. I followed a chain of posts that lead me to a post where Dean Shareski interviewed me for ‘The Canadian – Ed Leadership Show’. I listened to it while making dinner tonight.

The conversation this morning and listening to this discussion with Dean this evening made me realize just how much I’m still passionate about education. There’s more to think about, there’s more to write about and share … and now I have more time to do so.

The essence of flourishing

I wrote a post recently, ‘I’m home’ where I said, “I’ve been retired for over three months and I don’t have a clue what a typical retirement day will look like? …That said, I do need to figure out some good routines. I know myself well enough that if I don’t have routines and systems in place, I can be very unproductive and ultimately unhappy. My extended summer was absolutely wonderful, it also wasn’t sustainable. It’s time to tune back into life at home…”

On LinkedIn Hannah Frostrand commented,

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” and “how will you fill your time when you’re retired?”.

Both feel like riding that miss the essence of flourishing…

I look forward to reading where you curiosity takes you, Dave!

I responded,

Hannah Flostrand ~ I love that you put those two questions together. For years leading up to retirement l’ve joked that I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up… yet, as you describe, that kind of misses the essence of the journey. I think it’s more about what do I want to ‘be’ rather than what I want to ‘do.

I think this might be a future Daily-Ink post:)

This is that post.

It has literally been for years that I’ve said, ‘I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up’. I’ve felt imposters syndrome, wondering how they let this kid run two and even three schools simultaneously, much less one? I’ve watched my hair begin to grey, still feeling like a kid who has stumbled into adulthood., parenthood, and a career with a lot of responsibility. And now I’m retired and I see that looking at my journey this way was making the journey smaller than it was.

I wasn’t a kid doing all of these things, I was (and am) those things. I really was missing the essence of the journey. That said, it’s not some profound difference, I don’t feel jilted for having the perspective I did… rather, seeing it now just allows me to feel freer about where I am now.

I’ve heard that some people struggle with retirement because what they did for work previously gave them meaning that was lost in retirement. I am happy, dare I say proud, with my past accomplishments. Whether I felt like a kid faking it as best as I could or not… I did good. But I don’t measure my worth to what has passed. Rather, I measure it to what I have become. I see the value in appreciation of the journey, to what got me here.

Like I said in my response to Hannah, “I think it’s more about what do I want to ‘be’ rather than what I want to ‘do.”

I want to be a good husband, parent, and friend. I want to be someone who still finds ways to contribute to the world around me. I want to spend time appreciating being present rather than scheduling time outside of a busy and exhausting schedule and being too tired to be present.

Last night I offered to pick my daughter up at the ferry late Sunday night, so that she could stay on the island to watch her cousin do a presentation and still get to school on Monday morning. Then I thought about it and decided that I’d go over to the island myself, take my daughter and her boyfriend out to lunch, watch the presentation with them, then take my daughter home that evening.

If I was working Monday morning, this would sound overwhelmingly exhausting. Now, I’ll do this and still meet my buddy for a 6am workout Monday morning, so he can get to work afterwards. Easy. If I’m tired, I’ll nap on Monday morning.

I get to be present for those around me in a way I never could before… that’s the essence of flourishing… and I like it!

Ordinary Moments

I often wonder what ordinary moments weren’t ordinary at all?

Here are 3 examples to think about:

1. The era specific moments.

Remember those times as a kid when you were on your bicycle and you felt a cool summer breeze brush across your face? You didn’t have to be home until the street lights came on and you and your buddies were riding fast and free. Those were special moments never to be recaptured.

2. The decision.

You finally quit the job you didn’t like. You decided to go back to school. You quit something and it’s either a big mistake or the best choice you could have made.

3. The oblivious moments.

It’s just pure luck. You forgot your car keys and had to turn around. Or you looked down at your car radio and didn’t take off right when the light turned green… You did something to delay you and because of that simple moment you avoided an accident.

I wonder how many extraordinary moments we have, which we think are just ordinary?

Open Thinker

I just realized that this past March marked 20 years of blogging for me. And so I checked my post count. I have 357 published posts on Pair-a-Dimes and 2,640 here on Daily-Ink (2,641 when I post this:). That’s just shy of 3,000 posts total.

What made me notice this is that I looked at my LinkedIn profile after someone commented on my post there. At the end of next month I’ll be retired from the school board and another ‘job’ will move up to the top of my ‘Experience’ column. It will be “Open Thinker”. Somewhere around 15 years ago I added this job to LinkedIn, and put the start date as the first month of my first blog post, March 2006.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been openly sharing my thoughts for that long. Just yesterday while chatting with my oldest she told me she was sharing the size of my digital footprint with a new friend. We discussed how I say, ‘my oldest’ and don’t regularly use her name because I don’t think it’s fair to her that if a future employer Googles her name, what would come up are dozens of her dad’s blog posts that include her name. Her openness online should not default to my choices to share. That said, I’m still on her first page if you search her name.

I’m not changing my open writing and sharing any time soon. And next month I’ll probably take a good look at my ‘Open Thinking’ experience description on LinkedIn and revamp it.

Blogging has changed over the years. At one point it was an engagement machine, I’d routinely get 8, 10, 12, even 24 comments on a post. Now I get Likes on my Facebook page and LinkedIn, where I share my posts, and occasionally I get comments. Most people who engage with my writing don’t go to my actual blog. That’s perfectly ok, my only disappointment with this is that comments on other platforms are not curated there the way comments are on a blog. Oh well… times change, tools change, use changes… but what hasn’t changed is that I’m still writing, and openly thinking, out loud on the internet.

Accumulation of stuff

I’m in the process of clearing out my office. It’s fascinating to see the kind of things that accumulate in an office when you’ve been in it over a decade. I am admittedly comfortable with clutter, my slightly ADD brain does not come equipped with OCD superpowers to have a place for everything and everything in its place. So I admittedly have a lot of ‘unnecessary’ stuff.

The hardest things to get rid of are keepsakes that have sentimental value, and yet they’ve ended up in a drawer or the back of a bookshelf, and haven’t been seen for years. While they bring back some memories I’m left wondering, ‘If I take this home, where, except for a back of a drawer or bookshelf, would I put these and when in my life will I look at them again?’

I’m finding the process simultaneously cathartic and melancholy. Melancholy is the wrong word, it’s not a sadness it’s a solemn reflectiveness. I’m excited to be over, to move on to new things, and yet these hidden reminders in my office pull me back to thoughts and memories of the people and experiences I have enjoyed and even loved about this job.

And back to work I go. Serious question: Do I keep the the small hand carved song bird? The piece of brain coral? The stamp set of my name in Chinese? The beautifully hand painted rocks? How about the crochet rainbow bumblebee?

I’m going to be here a while.

Final Advice

I have a friend about to be promoted from teacher to vice principal, and I offered some final advice yesterday. I shared that often people will come to you with a challenge or crisis and to them it will demand an instant response… but seldom does it require an instant response, and the response will often be better with a bit more thinking time.

Of course, emergency situations are different, and responses need to be instant in an emergency. But often the emergency being brought to your attention only requires an immediate response according to the person bringing it to you. Taking time, discovering nuances, and seeking more information will actually provide you with far more data to make your response appropriate.

So how do you slow things down?

First, acknowledge the concern. Then ask questions. And sometimes, take the time to repeat the concerns to confirm you heard them properly, and also demonstrate that you understand the issue. Then provide the person with a timeline that you’ll get back to them.

An example my friend shared was a concern of an angry parent expecting an immediate response. I suggested in this case to do what I suggested above but to take specific notes. This lets the parent know that you are taking it seriously and also allows you to feed back exact quotes at the end of the conversation to reiterate that you fully understand the complaint. Hearing the complaint read back in the exact words that it was stated in is a very reassuring way to end a meeting and let the parent know you understand why they are upset.

Once that’s done you can provide a guaranteed response that sounds something like this: “So do I have that right? Good. Obviously this is a delicate situation and I’ve got some follow up to do. I can’t promise you that I’ll have it resolved by the end of the day tomorrow (or another specific day), but can I give you a call then just to update you on my progress?”

Now you’ve got time to bounce it off of your admin team, and/or Human Resources, and/or to follow up with a teacher, and/or other students. Or at the very least you have a moment to think about the situation without it being delivered in ‘emergency mode’ when it’s not actually an emergency.

Essentially, think of it this way:

‘Your immediate urgency does not dictate the pace of my response.’

I didn’t share any of the following when giving advice but I’ll share this reflection here: Looking back at my career, I think this has been one of my superpowers. But like every comic book super hero power, there also comes a weakness. The metaphorical Kryptonite that comes with this superpower is that sometimes my reaction was too aloof. I did not address the issue with nearly enough urgency in the eyes of the person bringing it to me.

Here is a perfect example I learned from. I was a few months into running an alternative school and two boys got into a physical fight. When the teacher came downstairs to where my office was to tell me about it I asked, ‘Where are the boys now?’ One was in the downstairs lobby with the counsellor, the other was upstairs in the kitchen with the youth worker.

When I heard this, I said, ‘Ok, I’ll be there in a minute’, and quickly finished an email that I was sending to a parent. I literally took under a minute to do this, but that was taken as me not dealing with a crisis seriously. In my head, the situation was handled to a point of everyone being safe, but to my staff, who were all heightened by the very real crisis of a fight, I wasn’t prioritizing them… And upon reflection they were right.

In this case it was not just an urgency, it was indeed a crisis, and I should have responded immediately. Lesson learned. That don’t stop me from using this strategy many times later with the staff, but it reframed what they felt was a crisis rather than something they perceived as urgent but could wait. And by dealing with ‘crisis situations’ faster in the future, I was able to leverage those fast responses to delay and find out more, and respond more effectively, when I could and should give myself more time.

The real challenge is understanding not just my own sense of urgency versus crisis, but also that of the people I worked with. I’m not saying I always got it right after that, but I know that I was a much better leader when I remembered:

‘Your immediate urgency does not dictate the pace of my response.’

Reverberations

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about endings and closure. An endings can suggest a finality while closure has a more positive sense to it, like when you finish a puzzle.

This is a frame that really works for me… for the most part.

Yesterday I had a reminder about something that I had a different kind of closure around. The closure that comes with healing and forgiveness. There is the well known saying that ‘time heals all wounds’, but the lesser known counterpart to that is ‘time wounds all heals’. Sometimes healing comes with reverberations… tiny haunts that can surface in the real world, in the mind, or both.

This kind of closure isn’t the celebratory kind, it’s the kind that lets you move on, hopefully with a previously unknown strength. The reverberations are just a reminder that there wasn’t an ending, but rather an acceptance, a sense of moving on.

The challenge with reverberations such as this is that they are often out of your control. Guitar strings starting to vibrate as a tuning fork is brought close to them do not choose to vibrate. And so it is with reverberations long after what you thought was closure.

Do reverberations upset the healing, or are they part of healing? I don’t have an answer to that question. Is it better to metaphorically feel the full vibrations or push the tuning fork away? I don’t have an answer for this question either. Time will heal, until the next reverberation and then time will wound again… hopefully with a dullness that allows for greater closure when the vibrations settle down.

The two Daves

Yesterday I had the first of a few retirement celebrations. What was wonderful about it is that I celebrated with my good friend, mentor, and brother-from-another-mother, Dave Sands. I started my career a few years after Dave and in my first year I was provided the opportunity to co-teach a student leadership class with him. That was the start of an amazing friendship, and although we only worked in the same building for 2 years, we have truly been colleagues who have had opportunities to collaborate and work with each other throughout our careers. As well, we have had countless breakfasts, lunches, and walks up the Coquitlam Crunch.

The retirement event was wonderful. There were a few fun stories…

A meme or two…

And an opportunity to celebrate our careers.

Screenshot

However, what really made this wonderful were the people who joined us. Yes, we’ve both had pretty successful, and as was mentioned, influential careers in the district. And there were jokes about the different superpowers we possess. But if we actually have any superpowers it’s in connecting with some really great people. What made the event special were the people who joined us.

As I reach the end of my career I keep looking back at the wonderful people I’ve worked with, and the way that I’ve been supported by them. With every accomplishment I can think of there have been amazing people that have been part of the team or who have initiated an opportunity for me in some way. When I reflect on the collaborative journey I’ve been on, again and again, I feel blessed.

Celebrating my retirement with the other Dave allowed us both to appreciate the people around us, but also each other. We both had out-of-the-box kind of journeys and our careers for the past decade-plus have run in parallel. Having each other as friends made the journey so much easier, more enjoyable, and less alone. It was totally fitting to have our retirement celebration together.

Hitting a lot of ‘lasts’

As I approach retirement, I’m start to hit a lot of ‘lasts’. The last time I’m figuring out staffing. The last time I’m supervising a Spring Formal. And tonight was the last District’s Principal Association dinner. I’ve got a few more things that I’ve still got to do more than once, but it seems like every time I turn around I’m doing yet another thing for the last time.

I’ve honestly not thought too much of it in my day-to-day, and often realize I did something for the last time after the fact… But that has taken a recent turn. As my last day at work looms, I have to admit that I’m thinking about it a lot more. The last moment of the last day seems really surreal to me… and it’s getting a whole lot closer.