A former student wrote: Do you remember me skipping almost all of grade 11, and you having me sit down for several hours in your office at the end of the year to write out a handful of assignments so that you could give me a passing grade? I shall never forget it. And clearly, the bits keep coming.

Did I get away with a lot when I was a teacher?
Or did they know but trusted me?
Or did they know but could figure out what to do about it?
And more importantly, did I realize I was getting away with anything or was that just the way I was?
Or were they afraid of me?

 

I have more trust in my Inner Teacher. She is subtle and humble because she hopes to be understood. She contains contradictory opinions without betting indigestion. she can mediate between the arrogant artist self who mutters, "I don't give a damn if you don't understand me," and the preacher self who shouts, "Now hear this!" She doesn't declare truth, but offers it. She takes a Grecian urn and says, "Look closely at this, study it, for study will reward you, and I can tell you some of the things that other people have found in this pot, some of the goodies you too may fine in it."

An afternoon with Machin is…a slice of breath.

That made me smile!

The first thing one must do every morning is swallow a live frog…

My friend's husband woke up the other morning on his eightieth birthday and said: I made it!

So I said to a friend:

It’s hard business trying to run the world...

To which she replied: Yup, that is why Diggy is here to 
help me. She is connected to the universe and tells me when to stuff it. 



Of course this is Diggy!

A stolen quote:
Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.