Sometimes, even if waking up is not too bad, getting up is hard.

There is no external force that's pushing me to get out of bed, and the consequences of not getting up are not directly evident in the cozy darkness.

But I've noticed that it is very much a finger cuffs situation: If I stop trying to get out of bed — if I let go and just do what I feel like doing — there will be a point at which, without even thinking about it, I throw the covers off, sit up, and begin the standing-up part of my day.

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I count the time spent staring off into space (and some days, there is a lot of it) as work.

The rule is that as long as I'm not putting something else in front of myself to distract me or otherwise trying to escape the present moment, it counts.

I know that it takes me about forty-five minutes to write and revise a blog post and another ten minutes or so to format it. However, it might take me a half hour beforehand to figure out what I want to write about. Therefore, I include that, plus a buffer, in my time estimate when I'm organizing my daily tasks.

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My little cousin and her family released their Painted Lady butterflies from their butterfly garden recently.

One of the butterflies alit on the three-year-old’s wrist and contentedly remained there for a few minutes, to the child’s fascination and delight.

“I’m being very gentle with him,” she said, because it was true.

She wasn’t reassuring her parents. She wasn’t being defensive. She wasn’t even boasting. She was affirming herself, saying the words her mother might have said.

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Okay, y’all. I’ve been going on about starting a YouTube channel since May.

And guess what? I haven’t done it.

You know that I can ship my work — here it is. But though I’ve made moves toward a YouTube channel, I haven’t actually shared a completed video. And I find myself thinking about why.

And then I realize that, as a matter of fact, I’m on the path. It’s just taking longer than I thought it would, and the progress that I have made doesn’t look anything like a finished product.

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There are lots of kids out there who have never felt that a teacher understood them or liked them. The teacher who treats a student like a human being, giving them the benefit of the doubt (along with the space to mess up) is a teacher who will have a fan for life.

I'll never forget one moment with a student -- let's call her Anna -- where I saw this clearly.

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