How to deal with the worst teacher ever

Her face shattered my peaceful Saturday morning. How is it possible that after all this time the very sight of her made me come to a full stop. Dead still. Heart beating out of my chest. Stone cold.

I had to admit that my naiveté made me laugh. How stupid was I to have assumed that never again would her name cross my mind…never would I have to think about those days ever again.

Boarding school had it’s own set of standards. They sat at the front of the class not the back, at her command, so the light of her favoritism could shine brilliantly upon the children she had deemed smart. I only realized much later that children having trouble in school normally sat in the front so that the teacher could encourage them along and provide additional help or guidance. Not here. My desk was at the back.

I purposely slowed my breathing as I gazed at her now aged face. The jet black, close-cropped hair was now silver, the lines of her face deeper, the hawkish chin and forced smile…the same. Her perch had been on a freestanding stool at the front of the class. She was so thin that she could cross her legs and then wrap the foot of the crossed leg back underneath her other leg again. Contortionist, perfectionist, antagonist. Rhonda-hater.

You don’t deserve my help she told me once, because you will never figure it out and I refuse to waste my time on you. Go back, sit down and shut up. I was standing in front of her asking for help with fractions. My mind, fully capable of grasping English and Geography was having spasms at unlocking the mystery of math. Stomping my foot I shouted at the top of my lungs, “You HAVE to help me. You are the teacher and if you don’t help me who will?”

The cold cement floor met me hard as she hurtled me out of the classroom. No one had dared ever stand up to her in that manner and I was going to pay for a long time. From then on I was not allowed to answer questions in class, my tests did not have feedback on them, I was a silent presence of evil rebellion in her classroom that would never again have a voice.

Add a friend? No. Forgiven, yes. I went back to wrapping my head around a complex deal I was putting together for a client. Life was indeed full of irony. Who would have guessed that I would be working in the world of finance after making a personal declaration in Grade 6 that I would never be able to understand math? Not I. Certainly not her. I smiled, satisfied.


The Mind, Unhinged

I had flown in like a proverbial witch on a broomstick. Disheveled, out of breath, jacket buttons done up wrong, purse strap falling down my shoulder which I yanked off before it could hit the ground. Mad that my personal “maintenance” was becoming more complicated instead of easier at this point in my life. Not that I minded it so much…just not today.

“Do you have time?” I pleaded with the lady.

“Sure” she said. “Just give me a second to get set up.”

I sat. My breath coming in short, stiff puffs of agitated exhalation. I had a million things to do and my mental list kept getting longer instead of shorter. At least if I could stop in ONE place and get everything done that would be helpful…instead, every errand meant another stop, another parking spot, another discussion.

And now~ here~ not super high on the “earth shattering” list, but important none-the-less so that I wouldn’t go through the next couple weeks looking like a cave man’s other half.

“You look stunning…” I jerked my head around absolutely sure it was not in reference to me. Across the room she sat. The hairdresser had added the finishing touches to her beautiful up-do. My mind raced through the possibilities…grad? No, a little too old for that. Wedding practice run? Definite maybe. Yah, that had to be it. Check, figured that out, on to the other items on my list that needed mental sorting, piling and boxing up so I could move on.

“Ok ready now.” My lady sat me in her chair and asked me scoot as far forward as possible and lean back so my neck was arched against the back rest. Ouch…oh the pain and misery I had to endure to get my eyebrows threaded. The sound was like scissors madly slicing anything in their path or knives being sharpened. Eyebrow hair flying in all directions suddenly made me smile thinking of the cookie monster and all the crumbs as he ate.

The doorbell rang as the beautiful lady left the shop.  Her hairdresser was immediately the centre of attention, questions were flung around about why, who, what…where. And then the answer. Dressing up for a special party, boyfriend cancer free for 5 years after having had it twice. Making sure to commemorate his fight and his win.

How quickly can an internal run-away train come to a screeching halt? Pretty quickly. My mind stopped spinning with the mile-long list, all of the unimportant details drifted quietly away. I felt free…unhinged from all the stuff.

I left the shop, buttons done up properly, walking slower, savoring the scent of fresh spring in the air. This year was going to be special I decided.

See the beauty ~ respect the life ~ celebrate the moments


Great Enough

greatness rarely comes

from us having set out

to get there…


instead it is arrived at by us


showing up every day

with nothing better to do

than be

who we were created to be

and no one else…

to meet a need that we see

and nothing else…

to listen well

and interject less…

to love deeply,

respond quickly,

work selflessly


somehow that is enough




BOLD…I click on the first button I see. That’s what I want~ to be bold.

This space is for me. A place to let my hair down and be real. No fake smiles, no cherry lip gloss to sugar coat my world. No hair perfectly curled nor grey hidden behind a mastery of color.

Just real. Just me. Just creative.

Are you afraid of what you will see? I am. Terrified. Excited. Exhilarated. Crazy.