Adult Learning: Identifying Clouds, Nursing and The Freedom to Be Wrong

Clouds-Nature Journal Page ink and watercolor 2020 by Julianna Paradisi

I mentioned in previous posts I’ve taken up nature journaling as a new hobby. I enjoy it for many reasons: It promotes spending time in nature, increases meditative observation, and improves my drawing skills.

An unexpected benefit of nature journaling is that close observation of nature has revealed gaps in my knowledge of natural science. For instance, as a child I learned there were different types of clouds. I remember and can identify by sight cumulus, stratus, and lenticular, but after that, they just become pretty things to look at.

In Oregon, we have LOTS of clouds. I decided I want the ability to identify them. There are 10 major types of clouds, not including subtypes. They are identified not only by shape and color; altitude is also a factor. Altitude is difficult to judge unless there’s a mountain or tall building of known height to use as a reference point.

Despite their ubiquity, the more I research, I discover identifying clouds by type is not as easy as I’d expected.

I became discouraged about achieving my goal, until I remembered my science classes, prerequisites for nursing school. Microbiology required I learn to identify and draw various bacteria viewed on slides under a microscope. And what nurse can forget learning to identify the psoas muscle by sight in anatomy? It’s not easy to differentiate the fine borders and connections distinguishing individual muscles from what initially looks like a solid slab of tissue! At the time, both tasks appeared overwhelming, but I learned to see, receiving A’s in these classes. This memory persuades me I have the capacity to learn the different types of clouds, too.

Which brings me to another benefit of nature journaling: learning that I am not too old to learn new things, including about myself.

Perhaps, as we age, it’s not the ability to learn that is lost, so much as it’s the  fear of being wrong that is developed.

Generally speaking, nurses need to be competent, and competency is sometimes confused with being right. A nurse can be highly competent, but still make a mistake. In our worst fears, the mistake involves the safety of a patient. What saves us then is the level of accountability we bring to our practice. Nurses remain number one in the Gallup poll list of most trusted professions, not because we never make mistakes, but because of the overall accountability, characteristic of our profession. Society trusts nurses.

It appears counterintuitive, to be trusted because of how we handle our mistakes. I’m reminded of the saying,

Integrity is doing the right then even when no one is watching.*

 

I mull over these thoughts while drawing outdoors between rain showers, making ink and watercolor sketches of clouds in the rapidly changing Portland sky. Typical of Oregon weather, to the south is blue sky as the sun breaks through. Looking north, more rainclouds gather, ominously. Shortly thereafter, the heavens open, releasing heavy showers of rain. I gather my supplies, and go inside, where I ponder the names of the clouds I’ve just sketched.

And then I realize, they’re clouds, beautiful in their own right, with or without names. I am grateful for the brief moment outside, the morning’s sun break, the beauty of the day. I’ll look up the cloud names later. For now, I’ll make a cup of tea, and enjoy having the opportunity to learn something new without having to worry about being wrong.

* Various attributions, often to C.S. Lewis, but possibly a paraphrase of a Charles Marshall quote in Shattering the Glass Slipper

JParadisiRN’s 11 Favorite Things of 2019 List

 

A page from my nature journal By Julianna Paradisi 2019

As a final commemoration of the 10th year anniversary of blogging at JParadisiRN, I decided to create my first-ever 11 Favorite Things of The Year list, you know, like Oprah’s.

This list is a compilation of movies, books, music, and experiences that challenged me to reflect on my life, perspective, and personal growth. I have not received compensation to include any item.

For clarification, many of these items were not new or created in 2019.  It’s simply a list of the things that surfaced to my consciousness as I reflected on my year.

Favorite Movie: Blindspotting second runner up: Yesterday

Favorite Big-Ticket Event: Michelle Obama: Becoming at the Rose Quarter

Local Music Event in a Small Venue: May Arden and Last Man at Bloodworks

Local Music Bigger Venue: The Dandy Warhols at The Crystal Ballroom

Favorite Art Exhibition: Hank Willis Thomas: All Things Being Equal at the Portland Art Museum- runs until January 12, 2020. If you’ve waited to see it, DO IT!

Favorite Book: Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmer, second runner up: It’s a tie between The Once and Future King, by T. H. White, and Hild by Nicola Griffith,

Favorite New Experience: Glass-blowing a pumpkin in Astoria, Oregon

Favorite Renewed Pleasure: Writing and receiving letters on paper with ink second runner up: cooking

Favorite Outward Transformation: Becoming a blonde. I’ve returned to the first hair color I chose when my hair grew back after chemotherapy. I love it, and it compliments the helix and conch cartilage piercings I got in 2018.

Favorite New Hobby: Nature journaling

Favorite Fashion Purchase: High-waisted mom jeans are back, and mine are leopard print corduroy!

Wishing all a Happy, healthy and prosperous New Year! May your 2020 vision be full of insight, and scarce on hindsight.

 

Lovingkindness: My Experience Growing Grandiflora Magnolias From Seed

Magnolia Grandiflora watercolor and ink by Julianna Paradisi 2019

Two years ago, I became enamored of magnolia trees. It began with my observations of a particular tulip magnolia tree I passed by while walking to work and home from work, almost daily.

Portland’s neighborhoods are rich in many varieties of magnolias, and soon I found myself fascinated by the multi-lobed pods of other varieties such as Little Gem, and of course, Magnolia grandiflora, also known as the southern magnolia, or bull bay.

I collected a few fallen pods from sidewalks, and decided to try growing seedlings. I’ve grown houseplants and gardens most of my life, and supposed growing magnolia grandiflora from seeds would be as simple as planting them into potting soil, placing them on the windowsill, and providing lovingkindness. After a couple of months of trying to cajole growth from the pots, I was disappointed: Nothing sprouted. So I did some research. Magnolia grandiflora seeds require several steps of preparation before planting. There’s actually a 6 month process to starting magnolias from seed.

A year ago this autumn, I collected new pods with fresh seeds, and tried again. This time I was successful, but magnolias seeds are so fussy, it’s a wonder to me they are able to survive in the wild at all. They require a great deal of lovingkindness.

I planted nine seeds, and this spring eight of them sprouted, but not without complications. Three broke ground upside down, roots skyward. With the gentleness of a nurse who once cared for tiny, premature babies, I replanted them roots down. Only one survived the procedure.

Another pair could not break free of their seed casings even though I had removed the tough outer shells with sandpaper before planting as instructed. Their tender leaves withered within their tiny prisons.

Four hardy seedlings survive. I gave one to my mother-in-law, who is a master gardener and I suspect will have the ultimate success with her tiny charge. It sits on a table facing west, with a view of the Pacific Ocean; what or who wouldn’t thrive with expert lovingkindness in such a favorable location?

The other three seedlings face east on my windowsill in Portland with a partially obstructed view of the Willamette River. So far, they too are thriving.

Above is an ink and watercolor painting I made of the largest of the trio.

According to Wikipedia, magnolias produce their first seed pods at ten years of age, but the height of production occurs at 25 years.

Really, it’s a wonder magnolias have survived through the centuries at all.