I’m not sure when I began to use the phrase “I’m so happy with you” instead of “I’m so happy for you.” Perhaps it’s because the latter no longer conveyed everything I was feeling when someone expressed their exciting news with me. Let’s break it down:
I’m so happy for you!
It’s what I have heard people say to one another in times of celebration for as long as I’ve been alive. This is an exclamation of camaraderie and support, echoing moments when others have celebrated your achievements – big or small. So what’s wrong with it?
I have just found that there is more meaning in standing in solidarity when I say “I am so happy with you.” It means that I understand that my excitement, joy, and overall contentment cannot possibly overshadow that of the one who is directly affected by said achievement. It means that I have seen the hard work, the struggle, and the hope of the achievement, but I have not gotten my hands dirty in this endeavor. “I am so happy with you” means that I will celebrate with you for as long as you want to celebrate, joining you in jubilation and joy. Perhaps it’s how the preposition has changed through the years (has it?), but “I’m so happy for you” seems like my friend cannot be happy without my selfless desire to stop everything and be happy for them. I’d rather stop everything and be happy with them.
Posted by adrionna on Jun 30, 2015 in Love
, Wisdom and Life
The fruits of my student teaching labors are so sweet – some “fruits” include realizing I’ve become more trusting of myself and my abilities as an educator and not taking so many things personally. These realizations of my growth haven’t always been so clear – some pop up in unexpected moments when I stop and say, “Wow, I learned that from student teaching, too!”
I had not expected so much growth from student teaching, however, to reveal itself on my wedding day, making it so stress-free and fun. Here’s what I’ve decided:
1. Teaching taught me how to be flexible. As a teacher, you work weeks, months, and even years to create the perfect curriculum with its accompanying lesson plans. You attend professional development meetings, make decisions for this audience you’ve never really had all together before but know you care about already, do tons of research, and collaborate with people who are more experienced in this field than you. Not much is different when planning a wedding. You meet with vendors, try to balance your own style with the preferences of your guests, do tons of research, and (hopefully) collaborate with people who are more experienced in wedding planning than you.
AND AFTER ALL THAT PLANNING, it hardly ever goes according to plan. So you need to be flexible.. flexible with people showing up later than when you told them to, people wanting to eat from the sweet table before they’ve even touched the 300+ piece appetizer table, etc. You are not dealing with 30 students here – you are dealing with so many people from all over the place.. things are bound to morph into something you hadn’t even considered.. and it’ll be okay if you’re okay with the organic flow that results from hundreds of fallible human beings being in one place. Teaching taught me that sometimes, the unplanned is way better than the planned – but you need to trust in the process and be flexible with it.
2. Teaching taught me that I need to trust my colleagues. I’m not incredibly experienced as an educator, but I do know that the teaching profession will be miserable for me if I don’t place trust into who I’m working with, whether I agree with them (their styles and methods) or not. Wedding planning gives you an advantage here – you get to choose who you work with! You choose your photographer, DJ, caterer, venue, etc. If you’ve done your research and met with them extensively, you have a solid idea of who you’ll be working with to plan this incredible day. From the moment I signed the contracts, I trusted that these people I hired will do a perfect job of executing my vision of my wedding day. It was a great feeling when my DJ came up to me and said, “The Polish folk dancers want to dance at 7:30 instead of 9, like you told them. I’ll take care of this.” And I trusted him completely. It was an amazing release of responsibility, control, and stress, knowing that I could rely on this support system that I had hired for myself. If you trust your colleagues in teaching, you will enjoy your job ten times more. If you trust your vendors at your wedding, you will enjoy yourself one hundred times more.
3. Teaching taught me that I need to forgive. When teachers make a mistake, it can be anywhere on the “Oops, I messed up” spectrum. It can be as little as accidentally eating someone else’s lunch (How can this happen? If you’re really stressed out??) or as big as enforcing a policy on one of your students that you never stated (Again, totally making this up. Who would do this?). The same mistakes happen at a wedding, along the same spectrum.. Low: “Oh, they’re eating the desserts. Before dinner” or High: “The cake never showed?!” Human beings are not perfect and they are not your slaves, even if it is your wedding day and you paid for it so underallcircumstances everything should be done according to your wishes because you’re the bride and didn’t you already mention that you paid for this!?
If you’re a teacher, you are naturally forgiving. You forgive students every second – when they’re sleeping during the lesson you worked on all night, when one student says a comment that cuts straight into your insecurities and you fight to keep your outer shell intact, and when they don’t say “thank you” after every time you go out of your way to make their lives a little better. Forgiving is in our blood. So when things go wrong at your wedding – when someone says something out of line, when someone keeps going to the sweet table after the DJ has already announced five times that the sweet table is not indeed open, when your groom realizes he forgot the snacks (that he individually packaged earlier that day) in the trunk of a car far, far away.. you need to forgive. Immediately. Every second. Any bit of bitterness, resentment, or ill-will that you harbor towards anyone on your wedding day will make it more sour than it ever should be.
Because I forgave mistakes immediately, my day was perfect. Because I placed my trust in my support system, my day was perfect. Because I was flexible and recognized that the day was going to be exactly how it was meant to be, my day was perfect. Yes, there were a few moments when I had a slight panic and could feel myself enter that awful heavy feeling of stress, but my awareness of the fleetingness of these moments, the opportunity to share the love I have towards my now-husband with my family and friends, and the pure joy I felt at being blessed to have these people in my life all helped me center myself and appreciate it all. You know, just like teaching.
Posted by adrionna on Feb 23, 2015 in Wisdom and Life
Why do I complain about the cold?
I’m a January baby after all.
I was made out of these elements,
the particles putting together a woman that can resist even the toughest tools. But
with the right ones, I become a sculpture that could be stared at for centuries.
What do I find so offensive about the winter?
I am the snow that glistens
after the blizzard causes its destruction,
reminding people that there’s beauty after chaos.
Ice crystals protect my heart, but they also
provide a place for people to
hold hands as they glide
where they couldn’t even walk before.
How can I be upset with myself when
I melt in moments where the sun breaks
the darkness in the most magnificent of ways?
Like the sun that energizes my spirit,
I wish to melt the ice that covers others’ hearts,
enticing them to beat harder than they have
since a tundra tunneled its way to
what used to be a prelapsarian center.
Who am I to deny myself–
a mother would never burrow herself and
leave her young to the wind, so how can I
so unnaturally neglect
the warmth that glows from me
even when it is coldest outside?
When will I learn to embrace
that which makes me shudder sometimes?
The bitterness and shivers simply should not make me quiver –
especially when I have what it takes to unite the most persuasive river.
February 23, 2015
Posted by adrionna on Dec 26, 2014 in Just Wondering
We seem to say “That made my day!” so casually. But I’m thinking there’s more to it than meets the eye.
When do we say it? And why?
I posted a picture of my dad on Instagram on Christmas Day. I had received a beautiful scarf from my mother and was showing it off in the kitchen. Dad was telling a story, or trying to, when I wrapped my scarf around his head similar to how the images of the Virgin Mary show a face wrapped in gentle fabric. He took on a very serious persona right away, amusing himself by looking in the mirror, trying not to laugh even though my mom and I were close to tears. Right next to the mirror is a picture of Our Lady of Czestochowa, so I had Dad stand right next to it. With some filters and focus adjustments, the photo was ready for the internet.
My Dad received many nods on Instagram and close to 50 “likes” on Facebook. We kind of expected that (Dad even said, “I’ll be famous by tonight!”), but what I hadn’t expected were the responses of “This just made my day!” This made me so happy to hear and it made me wonder why.
So it seems we say ‘That made my day” when we see something that made us happy, or experience something that makes us laugh. But I also think it goes deeper than that. Think about it – what happens to your body when you experience something that has you saying, “Wow, that just made my day.” Also, if this thing that made you happy happened early in the day, does that mean that you just write off the rest of your day? “Awesome, this thing made my day and now I can just kind of chill until tomorrow. Hopefully something makes my day tomorrow, too.” It’s almost a passive way of seizing the day. Or is it?
So why do some things make the “make our day” category while other seemingly-equally-great things pass us by? Here are some of my ideas:
1. The thing that “makes our day” surprises us, which makes it memorable. We didn’t expect to experience anything like this today. It is spontaneous but real and that’s what makes it great. The spontaneity is also what makes it memorable in a way that we keep returning to it all day long, replaying it in our minds and finding joy in it even after 5 hours have passed – thus, “making” our day, regardless of what might happen next.
2. It gives us hope. Maybe we were feeling a little down in the dumps. Maybe we’ve been in the pits for a while. But then this thing happened and it made us forget the negativity, even for a little bit. It made our day because it reminds us, until we fall asleep, that there is good in the world. At least for a couple minutes. Makes you wonder why we don’t surround ourselves with more of these moments more often.
3. It can be anything. A view from a mountain-top, a small coffee that we received for free, a stranger giving us a compliment, a new car, an old photograph, a cancelled class, getting into a class that we’ve wanted to be in for a while, a day off, an extra shift that we really need. It is very relative, based on what we need: a reminder that life is good, that good things can happen in a moment’s notice, and that this moment can give us some extra fuel when we’re running on empty.
4. It’s usually facilitated through human connection. I love spending days all by my lonesome like the next girl, but the things that “make” my day are usually grounded in human connection, whether it’s incredibly profound or not. We can’t have unbelievable, unforgettable Carpe Diem days without another person – whether it’s someone we know and love or someone we just met. The relationship between people isn’t as important as the idea that another person is usually present. And yes, eating carry-out while watching Netflix by yourself involves human connection.
It’s funny how something that seems to casual can give us insight into what human beings need: things that are joy-giving, hope-giving, and life-giving. So when we say “That made my day!” it’s nice to know that, for the most part, we genuinely mean it and that we experienced some kind of human connection to make it happen.
Here’s the picture of my Dad, by the way. He’s quite the character. I hope it makes your day.
Posted by adrionna on May 21, 2014 in Random Ramble
How visitingÂ new cities is like exploring different religions:
1. You have to be okay with leaving what you know, at least temporarily. If you’re looking for new cities to move to, it’s valuable to ask why your current city isn’t meeting your wants/needs and what else you’re looking for. If you’re not cool with the religion you were born into (or that you weren’t born into one at all), you need to start with why.
2. It’s helpful to have a general sense of what you desire in a city, but the beauty of just jumping into a new place is howÂ you surprise yourself by falling in love with things, people, and ideas that you had not considered valuable before. You end up loving things you never knew you needed.
3. You’ll imagine yourself as part of the new city, just like you might try to envision yourself as a member of this new belief system. Whether you’ll move to the new city depends on how well your beliefs and values jive with it.
4. You’ll realize what keeps you in your home city goes deeper than what attracts you — are you okay with leaving anything that might be tying you back? Leaving a tradition that you experienced with your family?
5. You’ll probably compare the new city to your current home countless times, as evidenced by “I wish Chicago hadÂ ___ or offered ____.” (My blanks would be filled in by the words “random pianos on Michigan Avenue” and “a free shuttle up and down the main street” respectively). You’ll also realize that your city offers things that this new city might not have.