It has been the strangest autumn of my life. Or, at least the strangest autumn of the last fifteen years – since 2002.
I’ve shared on these pages before that I’m not running a fall marathon this year.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling. And I don’t particularly like it. The beloved New York City Marathon, the race I love and adore, will go on without me.
(Author’s note – I changed the names of the student in this true story.)
Way back, a long time ago, when I was a teacher, I had a student named Beth. One day in class, during a discussion about Pre-Columbian America, Beth shared that she was of Native American decent. That prompted me to bestow a nickname on her. (I gave happy nicknames to lots of kids.) From that day forward Beth was “A Shining Light in the Sky.” Beth loved the nickname. She came to class every day with a warm smile.
Beth was one of those kids who was easy to like as a teacher: She was happy, enthusiastic, a hard worker, and team player. A model student, Beth was the type of kid who makes teaching a joy.
Sometimes we can’t accomplish what we set our minds to do.
Sometimes impossible isn’t an illusion… it is real. Or, at least it seems real. We strive, we reach, we try – and we fall short, we stumble, we fall. We reach and try again. And fall and fail. We fall and fail and fail again. Or so it seems…
Sometimes the goal, whatever it is, seems too hard, too distant, too impossible. We say, “I can’t.” We say, “It’ll never happen.”
What then?
Dr. Sem's Blog 