It happened this morning.  The entire plan for the day flew out the window.  Moments after the first period began; the announcement came over the P.A. that the field trip for today had been canceled, no, postponed.  Today’s group will go tomorrow.  Tomorrow’s group will go next week. 

Okaaaaaaaaayyyyyy.

Normally there are 22 students in period one.  Today I was expecting 12.  With that one announcement, the count was back up to 22 but tomorrow will now be 10 and some day next week I’ll have the 12 I was expecting today.   

It’s okay.  Really.  I can roll with it.   So we did.  But about 10 minutes into the class, the 10 students who hadn’t planned on being there today were mentally drifting, no, paddling swiftly, away from the story.  Others in the class felt the shift and I felt the tide pulling them all far, far away.

Then it hit me.  Hard.  The rush to rush.  Quick!!  Speed up!!  The words came faster and the pauses got swept under and the urge came, not to point at the focus phrases on the board, but to point at the students and say, “Quick!!!  Jump on board before I lose you completely!!  ¡Rápido!  ¡Rápido!” 

My heart started to race.  I could feel my lungs tightening.  A voice in my head yelling, “Go! Go! Go!”

I wondered why.

The voice was very clear. 

“Finish up!  Get this over with!” 

“No one is listening!”

“No one cares.”

Oh.

So that’s what I was feeling.  Rejection.  Or at least the fear of rejection.   And my brain was saying, “If you concentrate on finishing, you won’t have to deal with the fact that maybe they aren’t listening. Run baby run!!!”

So I stopped.  (In my head at least)  Took a breath.  Waited.  Started again.  Slooooowwweeeeed down.  It was counterintuitive, let me tell you.  I did not WANT to go more slowly.   I want to get the heck out of Dodge.    As quickly as possible.

It was almost painful.  It was definitely scary.   But it worked.

Going Slowly. 

It’s kind of like holding your breath when something hurts instead of breathing deeply.  Your brain tells your body to do something that your mind knows isn’t the best thing to do.   

So there I was….adrift in the middle of the class, the students moving rapidly away from me, dying to paddle and tread and splash my way to the end of the period.   

And instead,

I chose to float. 

Not the dead-man’s float. 

Not the “I give up, take me wherever” float.

But the slow down, pay attention to the current, save some energy, stay focused on the objective float.

Now I don’t know if the kids swam on back to me,

Or I floated on out to them,

But I’m guessing that all my paddling, treading and splashing (emotional as well as physical) was creating a ripple of waves that pushed them farther away.

By slowing down and relaxing….by looking into the eyes and checking for comprehension..I was able to reconnect and the story became the lighthouse, leading us all in the same direction.