I spent the past few days in the Pacific Northwest, presenting some half-day leadership programs for Link Crew. I love speaking at these events, and I love it even more being up in Oregon and Washington at this time as year. As much as I like aspects of Phoenix, I miss autumn. We just don’t get those brilliant colors in the desert.
I stepped off my plane in Portland on Sunday afternoon and headed to the rental car shuttle. I’ll admit that I zone out probably about 75% of the time when I travel, focusing instead on a book that I’m reading, a DVD that I’m watching, some music on my iPhone, or an email or facebook post. I should talk with people more, but sadly I don’t. On Sunday, I did better. I was the only person on the shuttle and opened up the conversation with a standard line my dad used to use, “Beginning or ending your shift?”
My shuttle driver was on her last trip back to the lot and getting ready for a Sunday and home. The initial question opened up this nice exchange. Eventually we talked about autumn and the beautiful Portland day–a few scattered clouds in the sky, crisp cool weather, and a tapestry of leaves lining the roadways.
“Let me show you this tree.”
It’s not a statement I regularly hear, especially from a rental car shuttle driver, but it’s what I heard. Sure enough, just as we left the airport, there was one of the coolest fall trees I’ve seen. It had all the autumn colors together: dark maroons, rich ambers, sweet yellows, purples, oranges, hints of green hanging on for the last days of summer, all layered together, making the leaves feel as they already leaped of the tree.
On a normal day, I would have missed it. I would have looked at my phone. I wouldn’t be able to witness the artwork already present on Earth.
I worry about what happens when we just zone out and neglect opportunities for interaction.
A few days before I departed, I checked my messages and saw a name I hadn’t seen in years. Turns out that one of my younger sister’s friends saw the calendar on my website and noticed I’d be in her area. She invited me to visit her classroom at the nearby elementary school where she taught. I hadn’t seen her in years–not since I graduated from high school. Yesterday, I was able to stop by briefly before my flight back home to Phoenix.
Our visit was short. Her students enjoyed the last few moments of recess while I heard the abridged update on life: her moves to Texas and Washington, her cool husband, and her love of teaching. We walked out and greeted her students who were already lined up and ready to go.
The next hour or so was an absolute joy. I was watching a friend–one that I first met when she was even younger than her current students, absolutely rock in teaching. She had great techniques for classroom management, for encouraging student response and sharing, and for remembering key pieces of information (the hand signs she used to explain lines, segments, points, rays, parallel lines, and intersecting lines are my new favorites).
I couldn’t help but smile. Her invitation used different words, but I couldn’t help but feel like she said, “Let me show you my classroom.”
Like the tree it was rich and brilliant example; something beautiful to see here on Earth. I love watching educators excel in their profession. If I had zoned out, I would have missed out on this great opportunity.
In our busy lives, we risk narrowing our focus too much–getting caught up in the things around us or in the next deadline. It’s important in these busy times to still find those random opportunities to take time, to connect, and to learn from the amazing things others can show us.