Tag Archives: #sol20

Skydiving

Instead of writing about my quarantine life which seems like the real-life version of Groundhog’s Day, I’ve been digging back in my memory bank and thinking about my past travels. What comes to mind first is Australia, and despite how much I love it, I’ve not blogged much about it. One of my fondest memories of Australia is my first skydiving adventure.

As I waited in line to book my spot, I contemplated whether it was worth it. My money was running low, and with at least another month to go in Oz, I really shouldn’t be frivolous. I mean, $800 was a lot of money for a few minutes. I could do a lot with that much money. Weighing up the pros and cons, my dad’s voice echoed in my head. His last words before I moved to Sydney were, “Just promise me you won’t go skydiving.” I promised. And I rarely, if ever, broke a promise, especially to my dad.

It was my turn and a decision had to be made. Deciding I’d regret not doing it more than doing it, I thrust my only credit card at the cashier. The credit card I got right before I left. The one for emergencies only. The one with a $1,000 limit. Go big or go home, right?

Suiting up, I looked around. Everyone else had someone with them, someone to experience this once-in-a-lifetime adventure with. I wished I’d had someone else to share this with, but I didn’t let the fact that I was solo hold me back. I was raring to go. My tandem instructor came over to introduce himself. His smile and enthusiasm was contagious. Small in stature with a head full of grey hair, I wondered how old he must be. While I never learned his age, he did reveal that he had over 8,000 jumps under his belt, which put me at ease right away.

Climbing into the plane, I was struck by how tiny it was inside. And there were no seats…or seatbelts! This was unlike any plane I’d ever been in before. Strapped to my instructor, closer than I’d ever been to a stranger, we took a seat on the floor of the plane, very close to the other jumpers. While we waited for the pilot to get in position, they asked us who wanted to go first. No one volunteered, everyone looking at everyone else as if to say, You do it. “I’ll go first,” I found myself saying. I still don’t know why I said that.

Since I was first, I was seated nearest the door. With the pilot in position and ready for takeoff, the engine cranked and the propellors making it hard to hear, I shouted to my instructor, “I think they forgot to close the door!” I quickly learned that when skydiving, the door is left open the entire time. As we took off, I was acutely aware that I was mere inches from an open plane door, seated on the floor, without a seatbelt. The cold wind blew in from the opening, whipping my hair in my face, stinging me with its frigidness.

Once we reached altitude (14,000 ft), my instructor told me it was time. Seconds later, the photographer I hired to take video and photos of me jumped out. One second he was there, the next he was gone. I was scooted forward to the opening, where the coldest rush of air hit me in the face. “Are you ready?” he asked. Nodding my reply, he pulled my head back against his chest, and we jumped out. I expected to be scared, to scream from either fear or excitement, but no noise came. I just took it all in.

As we were free falling for what seemed like 10 minutes (in actuality it was 60 seconds), I reached out my arms, feeling the rush of the air, moving them around like a kid who rolls down the car window while riding fast on the freeway. Every fiber in my body was experiencing pure bliss at that moment. This was worth it. Worth the broken promises and the debt I’d have to pay off.

Once the ripcord was pulled, I felt a sharp jerk upwards, followed by a peaceful floating feeling, as we drifted back down toward earth. The view was incredible! I was skydiving in Mooloolaba, Australia, a small beach town, so the view below was one of ocean and sand. When I close my eyes, I can still see the mental pictures I took so many years ago.

As we neared the beach, I pulled my legs to my chest, as I skidded onto the sand on my bum. The videographer asked me, “So how was it?” My reply was unexpected. I didn’t scream or shout. Matter-of-factly I replied, “It was cool.”

I don’t have any digital copies of my first skydive, as that was back in 2004 and digital cameras were fairly new, but here are some shots from my most recent skydive in Taupo, New Zealand in 2018.

And Just Like That, It’s Over

On March 1st, I eagerly wrote my first slice to mark the start of my tenth year on the Slice of Life Challenge, reflecting on who I am now vs. the me from 10 years ago. I’d been anticipating this challenge for months, the excitement growing each day that it got closer to March. I needed something to reignite my writing life, the one that lay dormant for months.

I began March 2nd like any other slicing day, keeping my eyes peeled for potential slices, debating about what would make the cut. Little did I know that everything would change that afternoon. The writing plans (and let’s be honest…all other plans) I’d had for this month vanished before my eyes.

Each day brought new challenges, as I, like many others, embarked on the monumental task of virtual schooling, with little to no preparation and very little sleep. Many of my slices centered on this new reality that I couldn’t seem to escape. I wrote to reflect on my experience, learn from it, and hopefully help others who would soon join me on this journey.

I leaned on this writing community more than ever, and my fellow slicers rallied around me, lifting me up with encouraging comments, empathizing with my situation, and offering suggestions. I felt seen and heard and loved.

The slices I’ve read this month have been raw and honest. We’ve all laid bare our worries and fears for everyone to see. I feel honored to be among these writers.

March 2020 will forever be etched in our memories. We’ve witnessed and lived through a historical moment in time, and in doing so, have recorded memories that we will look back on for decades to come.

This month, that seems to have lasted forever, yet was over in the blink of an eye, had more highs and lows than I’m used to, but instead of shying away from the ugly emotions of isolation, fear, and frustration, I wrote through it.

And just like that, it’s over.

Thankful for the Busyness Today!

After a week off for term break, our virtual school resumed today. My work day began at 7:00am and finished a little after 9:00pm. To be honest, I’m tired and ready for bed, but more than anything, I’m thankful for the busyness of today. After nine days off, the days had started to run together, and by the end of the week, I couldn’t motivate myself to do anything. While this is a less than ideal situation, and I would 100% rather be in the classroom, I grateful for the routine of my virtual school day. I was excited to chat with my students again today, and while many of them were tired today from a week of staying up late and playing, I can tell they were glad to be back, too.

After our first three weeks of virtual school, we reflected as a leadership team, taking into account student, parent, and staff feedback about their experiences with online learning, and made some adjustments for this last term of school. We realized that it was unrealistic to expect primary students to attend virtual school all day like they would at real school. We scaled back the expectations, and now students have four homeroom learning days and one single-subject day. This means that on the four homeroom days, students take part in one lesson each of literacy, math, unit of inquiry, and PE per day. This is in addition to a morning message video, which may be pre-recorded or done as a morning meeting on ZOOM. We all do one ZOOM class meeting per homeroom day.

On their single-subject days, students have one lesson each of art, music, PE, library, Bahasa Indonesia or Mandarin, and Religion or Indonesian Studies. On the single-subject days, the homeroom teacher has time to plan and prep lessons for the rest of the week and give student feedback, as the only requirement is to post a morning message video and the daily learning overview with the students’ schedule. My single-subject day is on Wednesday, which is perfect for me. I can prep for Monday’s and Tuesday’s lessons on Sunday, and Thursday’s and Friday’s lessons on Wednesday. It’ll be nice to have a bit of a breather in the middle of the week, too. I hope that this new schedule is helpful for the students and that they no longer feel overwhelmed with everything they have to do.

Another change we’ve made is to be more mindful of screen time. We’ve encouraged teachers to assign more offline activities during virtual school so that they are not online all day. I know how being on a screen all day affects me, so I can’t imagine how the students must feel!

How’s virtual school going for you? Have you made any changes?

What to Write

From the title, you probably think I’m writing my annual writer’s block post (it inevitably happens when one writes for 31 days straight), but I don’t have writer’s block per se; it’s just that there’s nothing I really want to write about. To say that this has been the weirdest month ever is an understatement. When have I ever, in the history of my life, been stuck inside for an entire month straight? I’ll give you a hint…it’s never!

What gave me pause when I sat down to write today was that I’ve written about it all before. I mean, how many more slices can I write about virtual school (it starts back up tomorrow), how I feel about quarantine (the ups and downs have been covered), and connecting with people virtually (which is fun, but there’s only so much I can really say). I started rereading my past slices from previous years’ challenges to get ideas. While I thoroughly enjoyed the walk down memory lane, I was acutely aware that all of those slices were about things I had done, experiences when traveling (which I’m always doing in March), or life as an expat in my current city. When you are confined to your house, writing inspiration for a slice of life is slim pickings.

I am so looking forward to being back out in the world. Writing about my experiences and travels is such a gift. Reading my old slices brought back a flood of emotions, the memories bubbling up to the surface. This Slice of Life Challenge has allowed me to capture these memories forever, giving me a purpose and an audience to develop a writing habit for a month each year. While I always have every intention of keeping it going, I never continue for very long. Life always seems to get in the way. But I’ll always have this yearly month-long slice of my life to look back on. It might not be a lot, but committing 1/12 of every year to paper is something worthwhile. Without the daily slicing commitment, I could easily have a blog with only the ‘good stuff’ on it. But when you write every day for 31 days about your life, there are bound to be days that aren’t so good, days when you stumble, and days that are down-right crappy. In this challenge, those days get written about, too, which is real life. Thank you TWT for hosting this challenge that is a gift I give myself year after year.

MASH

Who remembers playing MASH as a middle-schooler? If you don’t, you are entirely too young and clearly don’t know what fun you missed out on growing up. During this time of boredom, I made up a new game, MASH: Quarantine Edition, and I got to play it tonight on a Zoom happy hour call with two of my besties, Michelle and Linner.

The original version of MASH is a game where your life is decided for you. You know, the big stuff like who you’ll marry, which car you’ll drive, the type of house you’ll live in, and how many kids you’ll have. My version is a bit different.

  • You still have MASH, which stands for Mansion, Apartment, Shack, and House, but you are deciding which type of house you’ll be quarantined in.
  • Who will you have to be quarantined with?
  • What activity do you do the most in quarantine?
  • What time do you wake up each day?
  • How many pounds will you gain during quarantine?
  • What do you wear each day?
  • What’s your favorite snack to eat during quarantine?

To play the game, we each took turns giving 2 choices for each question. As you can imagine, some were good and others were awful. Once all the choices were written down, I drew a spiral until they said stop. That tells you how many to count before you cross off a choice. The game continues until you have one choice left per category. We laughed quite a bit during the game, as our friends were stuck with the crappy choices.

Here are the results:

In summary, I’ll be quarantined in a shack with Grumpy Cat. I’ll wake up at 3:00 am each day, wear crotchless undies, and spend my time eating beans and Cheetos. Despite this healthy diet, I won’t gain any weight though. At least there’s one good thing!

What are you doing to combat boredom during the quarantine?

Six-Word Memoirs: Quarantine Edition

I’ve always loved six-word memoirs, and the other day I saw a fellow slicer used them to slice about her feelings lately. Here’s my version.

I’m trapped inside, can’t go out.

Some days are fine, others not.

Body aches and lots of sleep.

Good thing is I’m noticing more.

Connecting with friends through a screen.

Taking a break on the daily.

No end in sight. Crave normalcy.

Coronavirus please go away sometime soon.

What I’ve Learned in Three Weeks of Quarantine

Today is Day 24 of quarantining at home, and apart from a 3-hour trip to the dentist on Day 18, I haven’t left my house. I’m not married, no kids, no pets, and no roommates, so it’s been a pretty lonely three weeks. Other than my video chats and phone calls with family, friends, colleagues, and students, I don’t get much interaction with others. I’m trying to check my privilege, as I realize I have a comfortable home, working electricity and plumbing, consistent Internet, enough food, and I don’t have to worry about money, which I know many people in the world don’t have at this time, but today I’m feeling the effects of isolation.

Here’s what I’ve learned in my 3+ weeks of quarantine:

The hair on my legs seems to have stopped growing. I haven’t shaved my legs since I went into lockdown, and by looking at them, you wouldn’t really know. I’m way past the prickly stage, too.

I’m not a self-motivated person at home. Despite all the advice on the internet touting, “You have all the time in the world, you should do all the things you’ve always said you never have time for! There’s no excuse now,” I seem to find an excuse.

My attention span, which if I’m being honest was already wavering (I blame the constant interruptions of modern society for that one), is down to a few minutes at a time. I have started 9 books. Nine. And I haven’t finished one yet. Now, I’m a multiple-books-at-a-time person by nature, but this is overboard. I can’t even watch a TV show all the way through in one sitting. What is going on?

At first, I was excited about cooking and was eating way too much food because, hello, what else have I got to do?, but now all the food in the house is boring. I eat when my stomach is growling, but it’s all pretty blah. Well, except for the fresh-out-of-the-oven bread slathered in butter, but I can’t eat that every day, can I?

I crave routine and structure, and I need to leave my house to have a sense of normalcy. I’m not a work-from-home person. Guess I can throw away those dreams of becoming a travel blogger.

My moods fluctuate from really happy to complete boredom or frustration. Yesterday I was so full of energy, and today, nothing. It’s a dice roll each day I wake up.

I am hoping that things get easier next week when virtual school starts back up again, as the school day will give me a routine to follow. What have you learned while in quarantine?