a glimpse into my journey toward unschooling

Sunday afternoon a young friend of the family asked me how Henry learns.  In what environment do we "have classes"?  What subjects does he study, and when?  Who teaches him?  These questions used to make me feel sweaty and afraid.  Of course children who attend fairly traditional schools will want to know what goes on in a different type of classroom, i.e. the classroom of life.  Why should I let these kinds of questions bother me?

I've come to see that it's not the question at all, but my personal feelings about breaking with "tradition."  Going into homeschooling--pondering it and such--I felt like a tourist looking on.  I didn't feel its terrain "belonged" to me.

Now I see that as a false perception--not just on my own part, but on anyone's.  Learning is not a foreign land.  It "belongs" to all of us.  Whether we or our children learn in "traditional" classrooms, or in the car on the way to the traditional classroom, we are all learners, all the time.

There's a simple truth, but it's profounder than I can wrap my head around.  Each one of us is responsible for his or her learning.  Parents are responsible for holding the space in which their children learn, and that can mean choosing to send their children to a school.  It can also mean choosing to educate them in other ways.

I now see that my job is not to educate Henry.  Neither is doing so Joel's job.  Together we have experienced that Henry learns what he wants to and is ready to learn.  We, or I'll just speak for myself, I love, repeat:  LOVE facilitating Henry's learning when he is ready to know more about something.  It is a joy to feel and witness his readiness to claim skills and explore subject areas--conventional and otherwise.

It sounds cliche to me at this point, but I can't argue with something so true it has become an aphorism:  life is for learning.  All of life is for learning.  I'm delighted to be a learner now, and delighted to watch my husband, our children, our parents, our neighbors, our wider circle of friends, continue to be learners.

Now.  I guess I was going to say something about unschooling.  I've read some John Holt and liked him.  There are websites.  Dayna Martin, a self-styled unschooling expert, has been my greatest teacher.  While I used to think, Wow!  Have you got the nerve to put yourself out there like that!  I now see her as a caring friend.  That woman has inspired me to let go of fear and enjoy life.  Check her and her resources out.  She has a powerful way of addressing the perceptions that can stand in the way of our living with the kind of joy and purpose most of us (all of us, no?) really want to claim.

She has helped me tremendously in my mothering journey.  That's for sure.  A six on the enneagram, I've got fear d.o.w.n.  What I've needed to work on is trust.  Ah, yes.  I've known that, but giving myself permission to trust rather than be afraid in a culture where parenting and educating are simply fraught with fear-based habits, behaviors, assumptions...why, THAT is another matter.

Be well, dear readers.  I cherish this space for checking in with you and myself.  Also love reading your blogs, whether I subscribe to you or have just "met" you.

self-compassion, anyone?

This topic has come to me from many directions, so that must mean it is one of my main life assignments this semester ;). 

Do you do self-compassion?

I read about Kristin Neff's book by the same title in Spirituality and Health, my favorite magazine.  This week, I found it at the local library in the 7-day checkout section, so I brought it home.  It is a must-read, I can tell.

I have friends who practice self-compassion, family members who do, a husband who coaches me in it.  I learn from all these people...

I understand what Kristin Neff is saying.  I know my inner need to chuck the absurd notion that life's a competition. 

I never did get "self-esteem," as it was, in my opinion, marketed like a tangible good, a consumer item I could go out and buy, if I followed the right steps to get to the store, or had parents who followed the right parenting style, or something.

What I do get is that I want to give my children the gift of me in a healthy state of mind.  And, believe me, I'm there sometimes.  I am not there, though, when I'm on a self-judging jag.  Oh no, I'm not.

And I'm timid about stepping away from the terra cognita of "you're only as good as the life you lead, the quality of work you put out, the cleanliness of your home or car or fingernails..."

That is enough for now.  The compassionate thing for me to do for myself is to sleep. 

Thinkin' 'bout stuff

A boisterous late-night HELLO to my dear real and imagined readers!  What a treat it is to read blogs and participate in them.  Facebook is fun 'n all (I really am in an apostrophic mood), but I like the reined-in intimacy that this mode of communication provides.

I am so inspired by the people around me and on the Web who seek to live awake, on purpose, and with joy.

The particular flavor of joy I've been feeling of late is the type that belongs more in the subdued joy category than the crazy, colorful joy category.

I joyfully accept that.  I like neutral colors, too.  And we're in that neutral, Thanksgiving-y joy season.  Reflective joy.

Here are some of my neutral, subdued, reflective joys:  my family, the four of us and our extended family; birthday parties in churches; my-sister's-just-become-an-art-therapist parties (love those!); a gazania plant that continues to open and close in the sun; yellow maple leaves on the windshield of the car across the street and the neighbor boy wearing Anna's hat; Anthony Bourdain; John Taylor Gatto; the Renaissance Soul idea; the fact that I am bearing witness to the people my kids are becoming; sermons delivered by a two-year-old, a four-year-old, and an almost-nine-year-old in an empty church sanctuary this morning; the powerful knowledge that I can ask.for.help.; vegan cookbooks and all manner of cookbooks; a row of knitting here and there; preparations for an Advent spiral; a working dishwasher; love, love, love; health; delicious food; fondue, sausage, chicken burritos, green smoothies, roasted nuts, mangoes, sweet potatoes, chocolate chip cookies...help me!

Amen.  And goodnight!

daughters, cows and goddesses

Assumption of Mary yesterday.  Sunday night I had the privilege of reading this gorgeous poem while a friend danced at a vesper service in Mary's honor.  What an all-round gorgeous opportunity.

I've celebrated August 15 in an inward sort of way for quite a few years now.  But I don't know why.  I learned about the day from one of my all-time favorite books, Gertrud Mueller Nelson's To Dance with God.

I don't understand and just-plain-can't articulate my relationship with Mary, but I enjoy it.  And I suspect it points me to an even broader goddess/Sophia love.  I need to read this book next.

Yesterday I spoke with my dad on the phone.  He told me about a 24/7 dairy farm he visited in Vermont.  Robots milk the cows.  I find that depressing and disrespectful to the process of lactation.  I have been moving away from cow's milk over the last five months, and see myself continuing in that direction.  Never say never, and everything in moderation and all.  No need for extremism on this end.  Yet it's that subjugation thing at work, even (or especially) at the dairy.  The suppression of female energy, the distortion of male energy, the absence of balance.

None of it is new, and it's not getting me down, really.  But I am captivated by the exploration, by the old women I meet in my dreams, by the intersections of past and future that are as near as a baby girl's soft skin next to a mother's withered hand.

Knowing I'm never alone on this exciting leg of the journey of life is a great consolation.  I'm wondering and noticing things women have wondered and noticed forever.  And change still happens, even as the questions persist.

vows to self and life

This 30 Day Vegan experience has been a good one for me.  How I have marveled at the plant realm's ability to nourish me, many days exclusively.  I have not kept a vegan diet 100% of the time, and I have not felt compelled to.

What I have done is discover that, at 40 and at this stage in my life, I am much opener to dietary changes than I was ten or fifteen years ago.  I am now more curious:  how does dairy affect my health?  What does my body feel like while eating wheat?  Meat? 

Sugar...that's a different topic, maybe one I'll explore later on this year.  Who knows?

For now, I joyfully keep a vow to remain plant-centered in my eating.  I crave beef and fish, and enjoy eating those meats.  I listen to my body and what it asks for.  What an amazing experience!

What I've been surprised by is that avocados, raw cashews, maple syrup, kale, sweet potatoes, coconut milk and oil, dark or semi-sweet chocolate, bananas, artichokes, blueberries, almonds, and many other things are more than luxurious enough to get me through the day. 

I give thanks for the grass-fed hamburger I've been privileged to enjoy, the free-range eggs that are on their way to me, and the plants that are the center of my sustenance.

In the midst of all the toddler-care, homeschooling and family responsibilities, I took the opportunity to make and share a delicious vegan soup on Saturday.  As Heather shared with the other retreatants on Saturday, soup-making and, of course, all cooking, can be a spiritual discipline.

Not only that, our very lives depend on our cooking and food preparation.  I sense this in a deeper way now than I used to.  The necessity of chopping so many fruits and vegetables has attuned me to that.

I was asked Saturday evening if I was sad to return from the conference I attended last week.  "Was it hard to come home [to reality]?"

I guess the vow I am and have been making is one (many) to use ritual, daily habits, how I eat, to try and keep life "all of a piece."

I have to chuckle, though, as I read that last sentence, because I'm a newbie, a baby, an ever-needing-to-begin-again beginner with regard to habits.

Yet I am conscious.  I am conscious that I want both the ecstasy and the laundry, to borrow the title of the Jack Kornfield book I have been wanting to read.

Livin' with polarities.  That's life.  That's me.  Here I am. 

Thanks be to God.  Blessed be.

30 Day Vegan, Week 2

I have eaten several animal foods this week:  some salmon with real egg mayonnaise for breakfast on Thursday, a taste of sausage and sauerkraut on Tuesday evening, and a host of things today, including coffee cake and poached eggs.

I have decided to continue eating mostly vegan through the Lenten season.  I feel this is a life-affirming decision because I want to have more time to let my body discover what this way of eating is like; because I have interrupted the pattern in a major way today, I look forward to more weeks of sustained plant-based food. 

But I will continue eating whatever on Sundays.  That's just how it goes.  Also, I'm traveling this week.  I have no idea what that's going to look like, but I plan to go with the flow and enjoy my food, whatever it is.

I am noticing:

mood and emotions:  I have felt a little sad to be "off" my plan today.  I could have gone vegan at lunch.  The menu was groundnut stew with a lot of accompaniments.  The stew, though, looked so good, and the beef was grown by the farmers who served it to me at their table....I did start the day with a delicious green smoothie, using Heather's recipe, including kale.

On Saturday I attended a gathering where ice cream cake was served.  It was no problem for me to decline a piece.  That amazes me.  I felt great saying no.  I was enjoying myself and had zero emotional need to eat the cake, as well as zero physical desire.  Coming from me, that's pretty curious.

chewing and digestion:  haven't had as many raw vegetables this week as the previous week, and I miss that.  I am noticing that I'm enjoying straight-up plain vegetables (sans dressing or tahini or whatever) more than I thought I would, on the occasions when I eat things plain.  Strange as it seems to me, I need to eat more fiber this week ;).

cravings:  I seem to crave what Heather suggests.  Last week she mentioned salmon, and I couldn't get it out of my mind.  I baked some for Joel and decided I had to eat just a little.  It was sooooooo good.

This way of eating does not exclude chocolate.  That is the only thing I crave regularly.  I have been eating chocolate chips every day and basically feeling good about that.  Perhaps I will try going without sometime this week.

biggest challenge:  This one is no surprise.  It's getting my food ready while also cooking for the family.  We are all eating some of the same things:  quinoa this week, some of the vegetables and fruits, but I'm also making food just for them--not complicated stuff, but things that still take time to make.

greatest accomplishment:  I would say that one was going to a brunch and turning down the ice cream cake.  That is just so unlike me.  And I felt so good doing it.  Very curious indeed.  I am enjoying my current weight, too.  Without so much as trying I suppose I've lost a couple pounds.  That's a pleasure, because my favorite vintage skirt fits just right, and it's been too tight around the waist since I bought it a year ago.

next week I plan to:  get through the week.  My toddler and I are going on a trip to Indiana to attend an exciting conference.  I'm planning on letting go and enjoying the ride.

figuring out some things

It's been great to blog again.  I've gotten to know some fabulous new (to me) bloggers and gained necessary inspiration for my daily life.

And now it's time for me to take a bit of a break.  I've got many irons in the fire right now:  taxes, upkeep on our home business records, a new dishwasher on the way (truly, glory hallelujah; I thought I could get into washing by hand, but I haven't been able to swing it), a potential new 1/4 time job for me at our church, the usual round of homeschooling things, preparations for a spring equinox celebration, a conference on Mary in Anabaptist Dress, which will provide me with the opportunity to read a lovely Gerard Manley Hopkins poem (bliss) and...an exciting 30-day at-home retreat for me (with Heather from Beauty that Moves).

Blessings!

brother and sister

She is almost two and, spiritually and psychologically, it has taken me this long to believe and understand that they really are sister and brother.  They're both "mine," and they belong to each other.  And they really like being together.  Both sick this morning, they're sleeping side-by-side.

It's about passion, and some other things

Just a while ago we returned from a Kansas Day celebration with others in our home school co-op. Kansas isn't my home state, but I'm learning more about it than I ever knew about Missouri, because Kansans are proud people. I like that about them. They know their state insect and state tree, and they really, truly celebrate their identity. Real Kansas Day is January 29, but we've had snow and severely cold weather these last few weeks, along with a couple almost-70-degree days, so we met today instead of two weeks ago.

The thing I loved most about this morning was meeting a local member of an organization called "The Brotherhood of Mountain Men," or something like that. He said there are only 400 members of this nationwide organization. Just back from a camping get-together in Oklahoma, where he awoke to snow and three degrees above zero (F) air, this guy smelled like another place in time. He brought his beaver musk for us to smell (can't remember what it was called, but, in sight and scent it was like delicately fermented ground-up organ meat). He brought buffalo-bladder-and-buckskin storage bags, knives, rifles, pistols, buffalo hides, buffalo hair socks, deerskin and wool cold-weather slippers, a porcupine-quill-embellished pipe holder, parfleches, and a host of other things, all so very appealing to the kinesthetic learner in me--especially the smell parts. It's really something to be in a room with someone who, along with his things, has an odor. Yes, an odor. Not a bad odor, but an outdoors odor.

This kind of thing just excites me no end. Whether the discipline be computer circuit-bending or historical re-enacting or knitting (and the accompanying carding and spinning) or something in the fields of science or math or literature...I don't care. Show me your passion (and your reverence for life), and I will love what you do and who you are, even if I didn't first think I would like you or agree with you.

I really feel grateful for this type of learning, because it's not just for Henry the homeschooler, it's for me too. Learning is a lifetime process and I love to learn. I love to learn!

Thankful Thursday

Inspired by Paige's Thankful Thursday practice, I'm posting these thoughts at the eleventh hour (well, 23rd) of Thursday. Today I am thankful for:

Delicious coffee, made by Joel every morning, presented with just the right amount of cream. Heck! Most of the time it's mostly decaf, but it's still delicious. And, when I get the real thing, it's really good.

The coffee maker himself

Koala bears: they're soooo cute. I remember that from my childhood, but I've fallen in love with them again since reading a new book on 100 animals (to Anna).

Marley and Me, the audio book. I haven't heard Henry laugh so loud in a while.

Heidi, a beautiful story that delights my senses and gets me thinking about the Swiss heritage we have going on here on both sides of the family.

My red clogs (and the sister who gave them to me!)

Snow

Full moonlight

new energy for this blog

And now let me tell you something else. I am happy! Yes, I truly and surely am. I could say so many things about why, but what I wish to talk about in this one-more-post for the day is that I am finding energy to want to return to this blog--not that there is any mandate other than my own for doing so, but that it brings me joy to do so. I am ready to reconnect with the identity that began unfolding here a couple years ago and use the blog to reconnect with bloggers I enjoy knowing online.

My body, mind and soul can't afford to let this pastime fill too much of my life, but keeping my blog has been a life-giving outlet. Hooray for me!

To celebrate this inner shift, I bought myself tulips this evening. My favorite kind--red with yellow tinges. Our home is messy, and I have a deep longing to get it into a cleaner state by Candlemas/Imbolc. That said, I am enjoying a reconfiguration of some of its spaces. Here are two of them that I'm enjoying right now.

new life

This evening, while eating pigs-in-a-blanket (and some of the other creations I made with that quickie pizza dough I stirred up) with my family, I experienced a sudden feeling of happiness with my "new" life as an unemployed mother. The dishes have been staying washed for weeks, I'm chipping away at chores that have needed doing, I'm enjoying days at the park with homeschool friends and yard time and meals with dear neighbors. Though Henry would disagree some of the time, I think I'm generally a nice person to be with right now.

And then there was this little note from Thich Nhat Hanh (via Oprah's magazine) to me tucked away in his book (which I'm giving away) Living Buddha, Living Christ.

"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar."

Oh yeah, my Buddhist mentor. Oh yeah.

There's a lot about my dearly-departed job that I'm missing: hanging around exceptional elders, the art of "getting things done," the many opportunities I had for singing-with, laughing-with, listening-to others, my weekly meditation given at Wednesday afternoon worship.

There's also a piece I'm not missing: working with others to figure out how to make ourselves look great while (IMHO) diverting some of our best energy away from the task of intentional, sustainable, compassionate living.

I worked for a lovely institution and I wish it and its dears well. Oh yes I do.

As I sort through my library (which I've been carrying like a giant bag of sorrows in both trunks of our cars for about a month and a half), these are some of the titles I'm keeping:

The Spiritual Life and Practical Mysticism by Evelyn Underhill
(That woman lived a great life).
Prayer, Fear, and Our Powers by Flora Slosson Wuellner
A Holy Longing by Ronald Rolheiser

...and lots of others. I am glad to release some of them, though, because I'm weighed down by too many books. Let go, let go, let go.

Here are some of the things I'm cherishing.

Manifest the Love of God in the Universe

That's what it's all about. Even though we here in this fine house are in major transition regarding jobs, money, livelihood, I'm holding fast to the confidence that things are coming together as we accept what is, summon and then allow the right actions to flow through us. Live and accept what is in the now without anger and then clearly see what is the next point.

How fantastic it is to wash the dishes while Anna sleeps and Henry plays with Noah on a sunny springtime day. There is a flow and we are a part of it. God's great intelligence. Any of these podcasts are wonderful. I'm enjoying part II of Tom Fox's interview with David Steindl-Rast, founder of Gratefulness.org.

I am grateful.

Peace. Peace. Peace. So be it.

a belated Halloween laugh

Laugh with me. I lost the fake part of my front tooth at midnight on All Saints Day morning, when I tried opening a stubborn flip-top water bottle with my mouth. Uh huh. Now I have a photo to remember it by. I went five days without a complete front tooth and now, I'm delighted to say, I have a lovely new one.

I dressed up as a witch for Halloween. Too bad I didn't chip my tooth about six hours earlier.

The days without a complete tooth increased my compassion for people who don't have all their teeth. I found it to be a really vulnerable time, and I kept explaining my story to those who saw me. I was afraid of their (potential) judgment. Hmm.

waking to beauty

I keep in my head Thich Nhat Hanh's advice that I read in one of his books--probably The Miracle of Mindfulness--that says to put something within your view from your bed so that you can wake in beauty each day. I do have something beautiful within eyesight in my room--a handful of oak leaves with acorns attached. But this is the particular beauty (and filth) I woke to this morning. A french pressful of coffee waiting for me in the sunlight. Let the day begin. The children are still sleeping and I have some editing to do.

my first Michaelmas

The autumn wind blows open the gate, O Michael, you, you we await.
We follow you, show us the way. With joy we greet the autumn day.

Firmly on the earth I stand, Michael's sword within my hand.
When I conquer fear the dragon's chains I tightly bind, Michael's light within my mind.

What a thrilling thing, to be involved in a procession and play planned for children and adults alike by Leeala. We welcomed autumn with song and drama. A dragon (with a cerveza cabeza, says Joel) was fought, then bound. Stick swords were wielded. A festive meal was enjoyed. See the sidebar for a photo of Erin's stunning dragon bread and some other photos taken by Erin. Thanks to Cheryl for the photos in this post.

a little more hidden than I would like...

The wholeness in my life right now is feeling obscured. It is there, I know, but busyness and toil and a fair bit of wheel spinning are causing me to feel alienated from some of my favorite ways of renewing myself (long walks, goofing off outside with Henry, baking and cooking, reading). Our family is too busy and struggling too much to make ends meet. I am not caring for myself or Joel as much as I would like to.

This will change. Right now life is intense, though, and I need an added measure of love, patience, hope and gentleness. And probably a booster of resolve, too. Any other suggestions?

A fond memory of the weekend is the day we spent at the cabin with friends. Henry got gloriously dirty and expended a colossal amount of energy. Joel painted in the bunkhouse. Anna and I had a nap on a hammock in a lovely hollow. We came home smelling of sweet smoke. So good.

Here are our darlings. One is missing a tooth and one is still working at her first.

What's not to love?

Her nickname is Puddin'.

centering Saturdays

When Henry was an infant this day of the week used to be mine for imagining what being at home would look like--trying to pack so much domesticity and mother love into a single day of the week.

No more! Now Saturdays are my day for all sorts of things: cleaning (maybe), cooking (hopefully), dreaming (sometimes maybe too much), sweating as I blog (oh, the toil!), staring down at my dirty feet while I wear a silk skirt and think about my daughter asleep on the bed and my son tucked away in the basement, how we're going outside soon...I hope, how there is so much to do, so, so much to do, how summer is here and it is hot, even with central air, how peaches purchased at Walmart can still taste good and summery even though they don't embody the food practices I aspire to keep.

How down time, unstructured time, has since childhood helped my soul to form. It is the best therapy I know, helping angers to subside and constructive problem-solving to take firmer hold. I wish I could show a photo of every lived-in corner of this house. It is a good place and also a place in need of cleaning and prayer. There are comfy baby spots, clean laundry spots, puzzle spots, hard-edged toy spots, dusty corners stacked with piles of good intentions.

It is time to rise from this place and take hold of the time I have until Anna wakes up. And as I go I remember this very, very good poem.

more photos

Before she and her family left for a 14-week sabbatical, Yolanda took these pictures of Anna and the rest of us. I'm so glad she did. There's more to share, and I may finally get some photos sent to family far away.

Ahh. It's all worth the effort. ...And it has taken quite a lot of effort!