Knowing and Growing

I’ve been thinking a lot about smells and the meaning we associate with them.  I have noticed that there are smells that are different from the ones in the suburb of Boston where we live.  When I am at home, I don’t think about the smells too much – except when the lilacs are in full bloom and we ride past walls of them in Concord.  But on the road for hours every day, there is a mindfulness that is developed – a being in the moment – where my senses are heightened and I notice more than I do when I am busy with busyness.

As we traveled along the Erie Canal Trail in New York, there was a smell that reminded me of a diaper pail.  I have no idea what it was, but it was not pleasant at all.  Across Iowa I noticed the “farm smells” of manure and cattle.  I also noticed a sweet smell that reminded me of a cross between honeysuckle and burning sweet grass.  I didn’t know what it was until Mark, the proprietor of The Greenhouse Bed and Breakfast told me it was the corn “teaseling” which means it was pollinating.  Learning this new information made me think about what I know, what I think I know, and what I don’t know.  I knew I smelled something sweet and it was as we past corn fields.  I didn’t know what it was or that it had a name.

It’s odd to think about all the things that I sense and experience without much knowledge of what I am sensing.  It is humbling to really think about all I don’t know.  However, this knowledge void is part of what makes life interesting to me.  I like to think that I am involved in a lifelong educational process.  Perhaps this is why that I am a teacher.  As a teacher, I have the opportunity to be a learner as well.  I am sure that I learn as much or more from my students than they learn from me – regardless of the subject matter I am teaching.  And part of teach is realizing that you only know, what you know and being open to learning something new with the understanding that new knowledge could change my world view, or at least my perspective.  It is in this way I grow – and no matter how old I get chronologically, I hope that my growth never ceases.