Mrs. Pelfrey

Start writing...Okay class, today's free writing exercise has no prompt. I want you to write about whatever feels good to you at the moment. I want you to describe whatever you choose to write about with as much detail as you can muster. That is my only requirement."  
Third period Language arts wiith Mrs. Pelfrey was one of my favorite classes in junior high. Every morning at 10:15am I would slide into my desk eager to see what she would throw at us today. My desk was in the front row, three over from the teacher's desk. It was a typical school desk, all one solid structure, with an open cubby to stash books, pencils, snacks, whatever a 7th grader might need during class. There were a few students missing today, which wasn't out of the norm for a heavily rainy day in Ohio, so Mrs. Pelfrey decided to make today easy and just let us free write, with minimal supervision or guidance.  
Call me a nerd, but I LOVED free writing, despite how much I would criticize my work afterwards. No matter how much I loved writing about a topic from her prompt list, nothing compared to how I felt when there was no prompt. I have always had a knack for descriptive writing, "sometimes a little too much knack," Mrs. Pelfrey would say as she gently reminded me that there is such a thing as over describing something. I couldn't help it though, I was a person that noticed everything, and I wanted to help people see what I see. Feel what I feel.  
Mrs. Pelfrey gave us anywhere between 30 and 40 minutes to write, some light airy stimulating music playing softly in the background. For the next few moments I watched as we all pondered individually about what we would write. I watched as matt chewed his pencil eraser in thought. I noticed how Sierra fidgeted with her sleeves with anticipation and anxiety trying to find the perfect writing topic. I sat in my desk quietly watching my peers for a few more seconds and then it clicked. I would break the norm, I would write about what I was seeing in this moment. I chuckled under my breath in gloating satisfaction. "Everyone is writing stories, noone is going to expect this!" I thought to myself as I began scribbling.  
I first wrote about myself, how I was feeling, what I was wearing, how I was breathing etc. Nothing was too small or too big of detail to leave out. Then I moved on to the classroom. I wrote about the almost silent ticking of the analog clock on the wall above the murky blue classroom door. The same clock that is in every classroom in this middle school. After I felt I had covered all of the details of the classroom, I started to write about my peers. 
One by one, I wrote down small tidbits of what each person was doing, or how I thought they were feeling based on the emotions they displayed. First I wrote about Cora and how she always dressed to impress, but also how in this moment she looked lost to me. She looked as if she was trying to decide which of her coach purses was her definitive favorite. Next was R.J, who had maybe three words written on his paper, and was falling asleep in his hand. A small snore sneaking out of his lips every few minutes, causing him to startle and repeat the cycle. 
I had written about more than half of my classmates when Mrs. Pelfrey stood up and announced that it was time to share what we'd written, if we felt comfortable of course. Being more eager than before, I quickly raised my hand to share. She motioned me to begin, and I did with no hesitation, still feeling a bit egotistical about the work I'd completed.  
After I had read what I wrote down, I looked up to analyze the faces around me, and what I saw was not what I expected. I felt disheartened that I didn't blow everyone away as I'd thought. I slunk back into my seat and zoned out over analyzing everything that had happened. Should I have just written another short story? Is that what they would have preferred? The thoughts kept coming until I heard my name, and I jolted back to reality. Kerri was reading her paper now, and I was shocked when I heard "Seminole is busy writing, she must have a great idea. Her face shows determination and self satisfaction." After Kerri finished, I was still perplexed and trying to deduce how it could have happened that she thought of doing the same as me. A few more students shared their work, and  out of those few, a small handful of them had all done what I did. They all wrote about nothing, and yet so much, just like me. I couldn't help but stare in shock, and Id bet my mouth hung slack just a bit too.   
Mrs. Pelfrey must have noticed because she stared at me with a smug, but warm and kind, smile. She was pleased with what was happening, but why? After those of us outgoing enough to share had said our pieces, Mrs. Pelfrey stepped into the middle of the room and thanked us, as she always did, for sharing. She expressed her joy for how "present and expressive" all of our writing was, and gave us all a big thumb of approval before the bell rang signifying the end of third period. 
To this day, I had never questioned it much. The way she seemed so pleased with how our writing had gone, how it seemed planned, yet I knew it wasn't. I am 27 years young now, and it's taken me all of this time to realize what that wonderful woman had done for us. 
Though we didn't know it, she was instilling mindfulness practices in us. She was teaching us to let ourselves know that it's okay, and even praised upon, to let go of constraints and simply do what feels right in the moment. She was showing us that if we just apply ourselves in another way, we can see that we can gain more from every situation, every interaction. She showed us that life was more complex than just a series of thoughts in our heads, proved that we are not alone with these thoughts and that everyone has them, and she provided a safe outlet for us to harness them and maximize their potential.  
I have used her technique for years. I would turn to a notebook when I felt out of place, or like I needed to be doing something with idle time. I always thought it was a fidget tactic to minimize my ADHD, and I didn't know until now, but I have been practicing mindfulness my whole life thanks to Mrs. Pelfrey.