An entirely different column was planned for this week, but a strange thing happened to me a few days ago that I felt like I wanted to share. I led what I feel like for me was the worst teacher orientation I’ve ever led in my 12-plus years of doing religious education.
Now, I want to note that anyone who was at that meeting, this is not about you. This is a ME problem. You were there and you were wonderful sports. You are wonderful to volunteer your time, but I’m sure you saw a side of me that I wasn’t happy with.
Anyway, in the days leading up to this meeting, I was very excited to finally take the reins as the Director of Religious Education. Leading our group of fearless volunteers to teach and nurture and love and grow our young people. I wanted to give them the tools they needed.
I looked at last year’s presentation and it was a lot. It was a two-day presentation, several hours. And I knew that 1. they didn’t have the time, or the patients for that kind of meeting on Zoom. Who does these days? And 2. That’s not necessarily my vibe. I try to be much more laid back, I go with the flow. I have a plan, I make a plan and then I throw that plan away the second it needs to be thrown away.
But leading up to that meeting, the laid-back me was nowhere to be found. My anxiety was running wild all day, but I knew that I had a little trick here. I’ve been meditating for the last few years. And I tell you, if I skip a day, I notice it. The other day was a day I skipped.
I had good intentions. I pushed it back from my normal morning meditation. I was gonna do it in the evening and meditate on education, on religious education and what it means to teach our young people. But, for many reasons, I never got a chance to meditate.
When the meeting started, we didn’t have the passcode. My camera got messed up. It was not as smooth as I wanted them to be. The anxiety that had been building up for days, that I never had a chance to reset, just spilled over leading me to cut the hour-and-a-half scheduled meeting short because I forgot what time it should have ended.
I lost myself at that moment. I didn’t present as a leader or as someone who knew what they were doing. Instead, I gave in to my anxiety.
There is a video in my mom’s video collection from when my brother turned one year old. My parents rented one of those big camcorders you set up on your shoulders to capture the party.
The last 20 minutes of the VHS captures the next day. After a long day of partying, like only a toddler full of early 80s bug juice and candy could, my mom made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I did not want the jelly. And so, I proceeded to throw a tantrum for 20 minutes, my mom video-taped it all with this fun new toy they had. I was inconsolable and irrational. Anyone who has had a toddler can attest to what this looks like. She played it on the VCR every time. anyone came over. I melted down because I didn’t get the food I wanted. My overtired toddler brain could not handle it.
The other day I was on TikTok, yes the children’s dancing app that I am far too old to be on watching other elder millennials who are far too old to be on TikTok talk about things that are important to us.
And I scrolled across one account that talked about how children don’t have tantrums, they have anxiety attacks. The commentator went on to say that it is their anxiety that comes forward when they have a tantrum. And I immediately thought back to that time when three-year-old me had a tantrum because I had jelly on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and struck me on Monday, how I felt the same way
I think it is important for us to teach children to be good social activists, I think it is important for us to teach children to care about the environment, to care about other people, to care about themselves.
I think, when they get older, we should teach them to call their congressmen. When they’re a little, we should teach them to stand up to bullies. But all children and all adults, need the tools to keep there ever-present anxiety in check
I started meditating three years ago, and it has calmed me down, and checked my anxiety. I haven’t had an anxiety attack like that. I have found it important to regularly sit quietly. And let me tell you, I am not a person who likes to sit and be quiet. I am fidgety and loud. I need to be doing something at all times.
Learning to sit quietly is key to adult well-being, youth well-being, and children well well-being. One of the first things I noticed when I went to your website when I applied for this job for the month website, was that there was meditation offered weekly. I thought, wonderful. I wanted to join them. I saw the meditation room and the women’s space and saw them as sacred, holy, quiet places.
I hope that in the coming months and years, we will have opportunities to sit quietly together. I know that it benefits me. I know that benefits children, I know that it can benefit you
There are times to be loud but there are times to be quiet, even for children, even for youth, even for adults.
Let’s all take a deep breath.