From the Director of Pedagogy
Lessons from a pause in time
As I lay on the ocean floor with my mask no more than a ruler’s length away from the face of a giant Green Sea Turtle, time seemed to pause. The noise of my breathing through the scuba apparatus and the bubbles of air rushing past my mask, my knee floating gently and settling in the sand, grounding me in the reality that this was not on some giant TV screen.
We were motionless for about 30 seconds, and I was mesmerised by this ancient sea creature, more than a metre in length, laying on the ocean floor at the base of a coral reef looking eye-to-eye with me.
As I suspect happens with all teachers when we are on holiday, (we still think about teaching and learning), I wondered: what I could learn from this moment, how could this relate to teaching
- I didn’t know.
It was just a pure minute of suspended time that filled me with awe and joy. (Although I had to remind myself not to smile because water was starting to leak through the regulator, and I didn’t want that…)
At our annual Staff Spirituality Day earlier in the Term, we were encouraged to connect with moments of stillness and recognise the Holy in the small things, in each other, and ‘being in the moment’.
I couldn’t help but be drawn to that recent amazing experience. I was focused (partially from fear of being deep underwater supported by something I couldn’t control) but essentially, I had to let that go, and I allowed myself to be in the moment, to be still, and to absorb something awe-inspiring.
It started to dawn on me, that I hadn’t been able to answer that question of ‘what can I learn from this’ or ‘what can I teach my students about this?’, because, not all lessons are about content, they are often more subtle than just knowledge we can learn or repeat. These are the lessons that speak to our heart. They change us over time, through our reflection and contemplation.
Sometimes awareness of that learning and new knowing is there. And other times it dawns on us slowly.
I had ample time to gaze at this beautiful creature and wonder what it could teach me. I was frustrated for a brief second that I didn’t know what I was learning from this. I was looking for some easy-to-apply surface understanding. Important learning doesn’t always come that easily. It takes time, and often, lots of time. Our interpretations and understandings deepen, and we are transformed slowly.
For me, I am content to let the joy, the awe, and the wonder of this surreal moment become a part of my continued understanding of our connected spirituality, connecting me on a level that transcends my knowledge, in a relationship with a creator God that ultimately can teach us about life.
It’s a worthy question to pause and ask yourself: What experiences in your life, in your children’s lives have given you the opportunity to slow down, to reflect, to sense the joy and the beauty of the moment you have been in; a moment with no agenda, no obvious lesson, a moment of connection with something bigger than yourself?
I hope there have been plenty in this recent break, and that along with your sons and daughters, you feel replenished, renewed and importantly reconnected with each other ready to begin the learning journey of school again for Term 3.
Tameika Grist
Director of Pedagogy