Cecilia Talks About Cecilia
My fifth grade teacher used to sing to me, “How do you
solve a problem like Cecilia?” And then while learning
to build wooden boats at the Rockport Apprenticeship in
Maine, almost 25 years later, the other apprentices used to
sing the same song to me. What is it about Cecilia that
causes people to smile and sing and wonder about her
inquisitiveness?
I came from a family of eight children. Mom left when I was 3
years old and so I was raised by my alcoholic Dad; and more
accurately by my brothers and sisters. And so I became a
survivor. Born into a crisis situation and moving from one
crisis to another only to find that I could weather the next
avalanche. In reality my passion and enthusiasm for life was
never squashed. When I was in the fifth grade, I had a
wonderful teacher –– Sister Pauline Marie
Petruzella––who greatly influenced me. She was an
inspiring woman who always asked her students to find their
greatest heart’s desire . . . to follow their dreams .
. . to do the necessary work to become a genuine human being,
so as to be of service to others. Sister Pauline exemplified
her own favorite saying: “Actions speak louder than
words.” Sister Pauline invited me to look beyond the
circumstances of my family life, and in responding to her
invitation I began a lifelong journey inward.
I questioned everything. I wanted life to be less of a
struggle; I wondered how I could change myself to become
“like everybody else,” and wondered why life felt
so hard for me when people all around me seemed to be
enjoying it, or at least having an easier time. I believed
that crises in life were to be lessons to be learned from.
Instead, for me they just wore me down. Yet, I persevered in
my quest.
At seventeen, in the midst of all these questions and this
search for a purpose in life, I took a summer job in a pickle
factory. There I met John Mildrew, a kind man who, like
Sister Pauline Marie, had great enthusiasm for life. He was a
high school physics and calculus teacher who was working a
summer factory job. In his conversations with me, Mr. Mildrew
offered me the gift of believing in myself. He helped me to
see that each day brings a very blessed opportunity; and he
helped me to expand my view of the world. So, with John
Mildrew’s steadfast encouragement, my fifth grade dream
of becoming a teacher resurfaced.
I spent the next two years working as a legal secretary to
pay my college expenses. I wanted to bring to fruition the
seed planted by Sister Pauline and nurtured by Mr. Mildrew. I
wondered if I could bring all my life
experiences––including the
challenges––to a classroom. Maybe I could affect
children in the same way that those two dedicated teachers
had affected me: with hope, love, and encouragement. And so I
received the necessary education and began teaching.
My first five years in special education brought much
satisfaction, yet on the whole they left me feeling
disheartened. I had over-idealized a career as a teacher,
thinking I could touch the life of every child as profoundly
as my fifth grade teacher had touched my own life. At the end
of those five years, I left the classroom to turn my energies
to other endeavors. I even established a private school for
youth-at-risk where I taught the teenagers how to build
wooden boats.
In the midst of these varied career experiences. I found
myself still searching for happiness and inner peace, so I
retreated from the world for two years at a place called
Gentle Wind in Kittery, Maine. Through this retreat
experience I began to be able to accept myself for who I am
and to work with the personal resources available to me.
It’s difficult to put into words the quantum leap in
awareness that I was able to take. The Gentle Wind Project
continues to be the focal point of my ability to grow into a
self-actualized human being who invites the spirit of truth
and practicality into my everyday life.
I now continue to offer to children of all abilities, a
space––not an actual place, rather an opportunity
that we share in one another’s
presence––where we each can grow. This space is
similar to the one offered me while I was on retreat at
Gentle Wind. It is a space that is sacred, where each can
explore, live in peace, and come to discover his or her inner
self while living in this tumultuous world.
In private consultations, teaching workshops, or working in
classroom settings, I hold the intention of creating this
kind of gentle, open environment where everyone can learn how
to learn. Movement-based learning is the ideal resource to
draw from in creating this kind of environment, for it honors
the learner at any level of progress and addresses the
physical comfort and ease of learning as requisite to mental
performance. The simple foundational exercises that I teach
and use also give me a way to address my own fears and
learning blocks, thus modeling the self-actualizing behaviors
I would like my students to discover in themselves.
I have created, wherever I go in the world, an ongoing
workshop where children and adults are invited to grow to
their greatest personal potential. I believe that if I have a
story to share with you that will assist you in understanding
or accepting how you “be” in the world, then I
will share this story with you, from my heart. I grow as I
see myself reflected in the many faces in the class and life
is much easier when I am able to accept myself for who I am,
and when I take the time to ponder how I can best gather
resources to do my own small part in making a difference in
another person’s life. I have learned the importance of
acceptance. When I acknowledge and accept people and
circumstances just as they are, I see that I have empathy,
for myself and for others, a love of learning and a
willingness to be in the process––whatever that
process may be. Then I can truly be open to the continual
opportunities for learning that is offered to me. I have deep
gratitude for the many lessons and the sharing that so many
people have heartfully shared with me. I invite you to be
present in life, to be present with another human being. The
miracle is not in walking on water, the miracle is in being
present for another human being.
And as the Orian Mountain Dreamer so eloquently stated,
“It doesn’t interest me how old you are [or what
kind of ability of disability you have] I want to know if you
will risk looking like a fool, for love, for your dreams for
the adventure of being alive.”