For those of us who live in the UK, and especially for those who work in education, the word “Ofsted” probably rings many bells. Ofsted stands for the Office for Standards in Education, Children’s Services and Skills. However, ask most head-teachers and they will tell you that a shorter way to describe this independent body is as a career-breaker. To say that Ofsted is feared as much as Islamic State is currently feared in the Middle East, is putting it mildly. The fate of many schools rests on the final verdict of an Ofsted inspection.
This post is not about Ofsted, though. I shall leave that for another time. This post is about what happens once the inspectors go. You see, we had our very own Ofsted inspection a few days ago. I must admit that there was nothing extraordinary about it; it actually felt like another day at work. Maybe because were ready for it, or maybe because we are just too bloody good and sometimes we need someone else to validate our quality as educator. As a member of staff whose main role is to work with parents and carers I felt remarkably relaxed. I was interviewed by one of the inspectors and at no point did I feel under pressure. In fact the inspector was able to see one of our parenting courses in action.
On the Friday that week, with the inspectors gone the day before and the school returned to “normal” (whatever that “normal” means), I had one of the most enjoyable experiences on my way home.
Riding my bicycle at the end of the day and with the weekend to look forward to I slid into a TGIF mood. As my two-wheeler devoured yard after yard on the high road, I slowly became conscious of my own body acting like a set of gears. It was almost as if my legs, knees, calves and other muscles were part of the bike frame. Both machine and I were working in unison and to a syncopated rhythm. I could even hear an internal sound acting as a bass hook. The warm sun was on my right. It was beautiful. It was also truly human. I felt a sense of freedom. Not just because the inspection had gone well but also because through my physical exercise I had become aware of this other dimension to life. It is a dimension of which I have been aware before. When I listen to a piece of music, or when I watch a new film I am really keen on. Or perhaps an oldie I never tire of seeing. This dimension is a sign from nature – even if I am surrounded by concrete – that I am at one with it.
Last week my daughter phoned me up from the shop where she has just started volunteering. She wanted ten pounds. As a rule for many years now, I very rarely carry cash with me. Small change? Yes, I still do. But pound notes are rarely found in my wallet. My daughter was surprised about this and yet how many times I have explained to my children that my weekend money for the last ten years has amounted to five pounds, the price of my two weekend papers combined. That means that I do not spend money unnecessarily. However, recently both publications put their prices up which meant the fiver I used to take out has become a tenner as the combined price now is £5.60. On top of this you cannot get five pound notes at cashpoints anymore. It is from ten upwards, which means I usually end up at the supermarket buying a very cheap item (for instance, sugar) in order to get my five pounds. But now that strategy is no more. It is ten pounds at the till as cash back with the remaining change from the purchase of my two newspapers being put away for the next weekend.
In times of need, thrift is still king and queen.
© 2015
Next Post: “Urban Diary”, to be published on Wednesday27th May at 6pm (GMT)
It can be a beautiful thing when our body and our machines are working as one as it was on your bike ride home.
ReplyDeleteI normally get this feeling when I'm out jogging, on a walk or cycling. Physical exercise triggers off spiritual moments hard to describe.
DeleteGreetings from London.
You find joy outside of spending, you rare person!
ReplyDelete( '>
/))
//""
ALOHA from Honolulu,
ComfortSpiral
=^..^=
Now if I could only control the use of my debit card! :-)
DeleteGreetings from London.
Love that you listen to, respond to, respect and delight in your body.
ReplyDeleteBe nice if ones body was like a bike frame, could switch the bad parts out for upgrades lol
ReplyDeleteIn the days when I did a lot of bicycle riding I too felt as if I was a set of gears. I know what you are saying about music too.... Have a great weekend.
ReplyDeleteYour thoughts are reminiscent of Lewis in James Dickey's "Deliverance" while speaking of archery: "I think my release is passing over into Zen," he said once .... You shouldn't fight it. Better to cooperate with it. Then it'll take you there; take the arrow there." Different, but the same in a way. I sense a similar unity with firearms, particularly handguns (shudder, shudder), that a few of them become a near-literal extension of my arm and my hand. It is both fascinating and frightening in that respect.
ReplyDeleteMore in tune with your post, I can identify with your sense of being while running afoot or running a canoe through rapids -- or reading, or listening to music or ....
A fine post, CiL, and one which brings back some pleasant memories for me -- even the part about kids and cash.
Whilst we're not on the same page re guns, I can certainly relate to that feeling because I used to go shooting when I was little. Pellets, before anyone tries to contact Cuban social services. Anyway, it would be too late now. :-) But for someone who grew to be a pacifist like me, my early memories of going to the shooting gallery just down the road from my flat in Havana was pure bliss. I was pretty good at it, too.
DeleteGreetings from London.
I love the way you describe being in tune with yourself and nature...
ReplyDeleteWe are wordsmiths - surely we ought to find words to describe anything - but no. Life is somehow enriched by knowing that there are experiences that go beyond words.
ReplyDeleteAnd your £5+ weekends - I'm sure you enjoy every minute of them.
Loved this post and I am pleased the inspection went well. I remember how exhilarating it was riding a bike, sadly those days are in the past but the memory lingers on.
ReplyDeleteAgh. The bike part was lovely--the expense part less so--and the inspections! I am lucky to have recently structurally changed my life in a way that saves a lot of money, but everything comes with a kind of price! But easier to save funds it one has an active mind as you do! Thanks. k.
ReplyDeleteBicycling more or less every day back and forth to work I can recognize the feeling.. like when I get rid of my studded winter tires and can put on my smooth rollers.. that's a real difference.. But I never felt in sync when pedaling through thick layers of snow...
ReplyDeleteI always appreciate those moments of well being. I often get them when swimming, though rarely in the cold and chloriney public pool. But in the hot sun - yes.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your comment about swimming so much because I am a very bad swimmer. If there is one regret in my life is that I have never attempted to correct that and therefore I have go the running and the cycling to gift me moments like the one I described in my post but not swimming. And yet, I enjoy the exercise so much when I have the chance to go to the pool or the beach. I also agree with you on the chlorine. They put too much in the water.
DeleteI think one of the joys of life is experiencing those "one with the world" feelings like you describe. I call it "being in the zone," and it happens to me often. This will sound strange, but for those times, it's almost as though the universe itself is controlling my actions. Whether it be while I write, or make music, walk in nature, laugh with my husband, or even participate in something like bowling, playing cards, or shooting pool, it's as though everything seems to hum along in perfect harmony, and all is right with the world.
ReplyDeleteIt is a form of "in the zone" feeling. :-)
DeleteGreetings from London.
Genial la libertad que has sentido manejando tu bicicleta.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like the state of mind called "the Zone" where you are doing something--exercising, writing, etc.--and there is no thought and seemingly no effort. Everything is just happening naturally. It is a fantastic feeling and you describe it very well.
ReplyDeleteIndeed. It is that effortlessness that makes the activity magical.
DeleteGreetings from London.
So glad the inspection went well :)
ReplyDeleteAnd riding a bike can be a mind-altering experience...I have felt that too, occasionally, when cycling along a path through the forest. It almost felt like I was flying above all earthly concerns!
Truly magical...just as you say.:)
Have a Great day.:))
I have cycled on country lanes and in the woods and, like you said, it is truly magical. For obvious reasons I feel more in tune with nature and my body, as I am surrounded by vegetation and animals. Thanks.
DeleteGreetings from London.