A Broken Cup

Recently, I've been taking the time to read the entire California Content Standards for Kindergarten through Third Grade.  My intention was to find creative ways to present this material to A. throughout the year.  I thought that she needed to keep up with her peers and feared that I would somehow be putting her at a disadvantage if she wasn't learning what the Joneses were learning.   

On September 12th, we hit the books pretty hard and, unfortunately, I was hit with more resistance from A. than I ever imagined possible.  She is a bright cookie and understands just about anything you put before her... but, quite suddenly it seemed, she wanted nothing to do with anything I gave her.  Of course, this was a huge red flag that we were doing something wrong... so we just s-t-o-p-p-e-d doing everything. 

We've taken a few days off for emptying our cup and I'm hoping that here, with a beginners mind, we'll discover something altogether new.  In fact, if I had to take the cup analogy even further, I would say that we've thrown the damn cup on the floor, stomped on it and shouted, "to life!"  Maybe here, amidst the broken [deconstructed] pieces, we can find a new perspective. 

Meanwhile, I've been plodding along at John Holt's classic, How Children Learn, and having quite a few light-bulb moments about my approach to our studies.  It seems that I've created a little version of public school at home again.  I'm so conditioned by my own education that I unconsciously fall back to this paradigm again and again!  Un-leanrning, it seems, is more difficult than learning!

Yesterday, I gathered all of the content standards together and set out to organize these several hundred pages into a three-hole binder.  Today I've discovered a better use for them and a better use of our time.  Instead of stressing about how to teach what the state of California has deemed necessary, I'm spending the next week paying attention to my girl and re-discovering what amuses her mind.  It was after all, a great mind, one who did not attend a factory-model school, who said this:

“Do not train a child to learn by force or harshness; but direct them to it by what amuses their minds, so that you may be better able to discover with accuracy the peculiar bent of the genius of each.” - Plato

Our Ever-Evolving Pedagogy

I finally got my hands on a copy of John Holt's classic, How Children Learn," and I am loving it.  His observations take me right back to when A. was a toddler and my own fascination with her innate ability to learn.  I'm about a quarter of the way through and will try to post some of my thoughts and favorite excerpts as I go.  

If you've followed our blog for very long, you might have noticed our ever-evolving methods.  In preschool, I fell for the "more-faster-better" mindset of early education.  I was so mesmerized by how fast A. learned that I thought the best thing to do was set up a little version of school at home, teach formal lessons, and keep spreadsheets of what was learned.

By Kindergarten I'd seen the error of my ways, began slowing down, and became more conscious of the need to nurture A. as a complete human being and not just a mind to be filled with information.  We began exploring Waldorf and Montessori methods and incorporated both into an eclectic style of home-education.  

For First Grade, we used the complete Oak Meadow curriculum and, while we both enjoyed it, I felt as though my own creativity was being squashed a bit by my conflicting desire to go by the book.  I also noticed that A.'s natural pace is pretty fast and that she, like I imagine all children, becomes board when she's not challenged.  I learned that I needed to balance nurturing with inspiring.  The beauty of home-education, of course, is that we can curtail each day to keep interest high and encourage that innate passion for learning.

For Second Grade, we're flying without a net for now -- although I am considering purchasing the Oak Meadow Second Grade Syllabus and using the lesson plans for inspiration.  I'm also reading the California Content Standards through Third Grade and thinking up ways to reach those goals without worksheets or too much desk time.  I'm not married to the standards, however, and do plan to take great liberties with them.

I'm discovering that, if left to her own devices, A. will draw, paint, read, observe nature with her binoculars, write and illustrate little books, play piano, invent games (she's particularity fond of creating board games with intricate rules and pieces), and, of course, engage in imaginative play.  I'm trying to cultivate a more relaxed attitude and trust that learning takes place naturally; however, I am also admittedly so conditioned by my own education that, for me, it's essential that we stick to a flexible schedule and work towards specific goals.  I guess you could say that we're eclectic, partially child-led homeschoolers still slightly fearful of taking the leap into purely orthodox unschooling.

We're studying Homer's Odyssey right now.  We found a great edition titled, The Adventures of Odysseus by Barefoot Books and we're using this myth to inspire inquiry into all of the other subjects -- including math.  We're working with fractions right now and have had some great discussions about how fractions, like myths, are small parts of a greater whole. 

We made salt clay yesterday and worked with fractions -- slicing the "pie" into half, quarters, eighths, and sixteenths, looking at equivalent fractions (two eighths is the same as one quarter, etc.) and exploring the four functions with fractions.  I gave A. some informal instruction in this last week and made a point to compare fractions to the musical notation with which she's already so familiar.  A. is keeping a Main Lesson Book and has drawn circles and pies and toyed with some simple equations (If 1/4 plus 1/4 equals 1/2, then 1/2 divided by 2 equals 1/4).  

Later, we used our salt clay to make Greek-inspired "pottery" and spent the early evening painting our creations with geometric shapes and black silhouettes (we'd planed to paint scenes from the Odyssey but quickly discovered that painting on clay is much more difficult than we'd imagined).

Every year I ponder the same questions, explore the same fears and worries --- mainly, can we do this without that formal institution called "school?"  Every year I come back to the same answer.  That answer is yes; however, it does require, as Holt explains, faith that children can and will learn on their own.  I'm working to loosen my grip a little each day -- while still encouraging self-discipline.  I think Holt said it best when he called it faith:   

"Call it a faith. This faith is that man is by nature a learning animal. Birds fly, fish swim, man thinks and learns. Therefore, we do not need to "motivate" children into learning, by wheedling, bribing, or bullying. We do not need to keep picking away at their minds to make sure they are learning. What we need to do, and all we need to do is bring as much of the world as we can into the school and the classroom; give children as much help and guidance as they need and ask for; listen respectfully when they feel like talking; and then get out of the way.  We can trust them to do the rest."

Just Being Present

Me - 38 weeks

I've been in prenatal la-la land and absent from the blogosphere for quite some time, haven't I?  The months have flown by -- relatively discomfort free... and I'm feeling truly blessed.  

Growing a new life within me turned out to be personal business though... so my writings found their way to a good old fashioned paper journal -- one that I've dedicated to Baby Om.  Big Sister has even taken to decorating the margins and adding her own loving notes for her baby brother.  I'm not sure what it is exactly, but my reflections feel better suited for that journal than the blogging world.

Maybe it's because this pregnancy feels so deeply spiritual.  After all, I'm right at the center of the universe creating itself -- and that is both empowering and humbling.  Throughout my pregnancy I've felt more inclined to simply be present for the experience than to publicly write about it.  I also think it's because we're planning a natural home-birth.  While I am confident in our decision, I haven't felt like debating with the naysayers. 

Big Sister and Mama

So what's been happening on the school front?  For our April mindfulness until, we looked at ACCEPTANCE.  We listened to the rain and learned how our resistance to our experiences often creates more discomfort than the experience itself.  For May, the month or flowers and of mothers, we're revisiting LOVING-KINDNESS.  You can read about last year's unit here.  Loving-kindness is the unconditional love that a mother feels for her child; a friendliness and warmth that reaches out and embraces others.  It's the feeling we experience when we hold our new baby in our arms.  Cultivating loving-kindness means holding ourselves and others this way too.

We wrapped up our formal academic year the first of May and are unschooling now.  While we've loved incorporating Waldorf methods into our routine, we're both relieved to have finished the curriculum and feeling a new surge of expansion and creativity now that the weekly lessons are completed.  I hope we'll be able to hone our unschooling skills this summer and continue with that approach in fall.  Only time will tell.

Until then, I'm due May 27th.  The baby is in a great position, fully engaged, and feels like he could come any minute.  Pregnancy causes us to slow down and take inventory of our lives.  Each breath, each drop of rain, each wildflower is an opportunity to connect more deeply.  Just being present often reveals the everyday blessing that might otherwise go overlooked.  This pregnancy has certainly unveiled the abundance in my life... and I am so very grateful.

I'll try to post again soon.  Many blessings to all.

Summer's Song

Outside the wildflowers of spring have dropped away into the golden hills of summer.  Leaves have grown full, gardens have grown abundant, and the busy-ness of spring has faded into summer's slow song.  American poet William Carlos Williams wrote, "In summer, the song sings itself."

The Summer Solstice came and went and now, after reaching her full strength, the sun is journeying away from us again.  Like the outside world, our inner world also moves in seasons rising and falling, growing and fading, always transforming and becoming.  This season of warmth and rest is a time for recognizing completions; for laying down what we've finished or what no longer serves us.  Here at Om School, we've said goodbye to Kindergarten and are relaxing into the next step of our journey.

We finished the year with Y for yogini and Z for Zigongosaurus, a genus of sauropod dinosaur from the Middle-Late Jurassic age of Zigong, China.  While the learning never stops, we've also laid down my formal lesson plans for summer and have been enjoying unstructured learning.  Our schedule includes a new adventure with our meditation center, Spirit Rock, where the children's sangha has just begun.  Last week, A. enjoyed making new friends in the K-6 class and I enjoyed the adult sitting group and Jack Kornfield's dharma talk,  Turning of the Seasons.

For our June mindfulness unit, Summer's Song, we relaxed into the turning of the seasons; listened to nature as she slowed down; and let go of things we'd completed.  As summer continues, we'll bring conscious attention to the smells and tastes that are so different now than the rest of the year.  We'll listen to the cicadas and notice how white clouds dot the bright blue sky.  We'll keep a science journal of native birds, read books, and make lemonade.  We'll watch the sun set and smile as she dips behind the mountain.  Most of all, we'll listen as summer sings her song.

What are you doing to connect with your kids this summer?  What are you doing to connect with nature?  I'd love to hear your plans and ideas...

Wildflower Walk

"To see the fire that warms you or, better yet, to cut the wood that feeds the fire that warms you; to see the spring where the water bubbles up that slakes your thirst and to dip your pail into it; to see the beams that are the stay of your four walls and the timbers that uphold the roof that shelters you; to be in direct and personal contact with the sources of your material life; to find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to find a quest of wild berries more satisfying than a gift of tropical fruit; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wild flower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life." - John Burroughs (1837 - 1921)

Kindergarten Ecology

We are on spring vacation... so our lessons have been informal, our goals have been to relax and restore, and our days have been full of sunlight and friendship.  

Learning comes in infinite forms... and breaks from our regular schedule always remind me that, even without formal schooling, kids are always learning.  Sometimes, it's the lessons we don't plan for that have the most meaning.

In other words, Om School never really takes a break.  When your heart's compass is set strongly towards the ocean, everything you do, intended or not, flows down that river.  Something I desire deeply for my girl is for her to feel her connection with the earth, to know that she is connected to every other living thing, and to see that each drop of dew, every blade of grass, and all the creatures who walk upon it are sacred.  I think that the deepest peace a human heart can feel comes from loving and being loved in return.  Learning to feel to feel love from the natural world might just ensure that that deep peace.  It's there, always loving us, always providing for us... no matter what -- every day the sun shines down on us and the earth beams back.  We stand in the middle often too asleep to know that we are being held in that embrace.

When we awaken to this love, to our hidden connections with all things, we realize that it is up to us to care for the earth as we care for our children, our closest friends, and our families.  The earth truly is our mother and we should cherish her -- not just so we can use up her resources at some later date in time -- but because she is sacred.  

With Earth Day coming up on April 22nd (and turning forty this year) it's a perfect time to turn our attention to the environment.  I'm working to develop a thematic unit on ecology and will post resources here as I find them.  A great starter reading list can be found here: Children's Nature & Ecology Books and Elementary Education Resources: Kindergarten is a great site for developing your own lesson plans, games, and activities to get your kids involved and caring about the environment.  

Still, I think stories and picture books speak to a young child's heart more than scientific information... and I've been meaning to get this book for months now:  The Last Wild Witch by Starhawk.  You can support an independent book store by purchasing it at 100Fires.com: Extraordinary Books (and More!) for a Healthy Planet.  

This PDF, "The Last Wild Witch Teaching and Discussion Guide", is a fantastic guide -- full with discussion questions, language skill-builders, art projects, music circles, and science projects.   

The following video, a promo for the book, is a treasure by itself and a lesson in global responsibility.  Listen for the last lines, as the children realize, "Maybe we're supposed to do something... Maybe we're supposed to save the forest..."

Deep peace to all.

Shapes & Forms

My mind has been turned to shapes lately.  My kinder is almost six, so, naturally, she's known the basics for a while now.  Still, knowing the answers and understanding the essence are two different things.

Shapes conjure up feelings and inform both abstract and specific states of consciousness.  For example, circles appear in many cultures with an archetypal symbolism of oneness.  They are round and endless, seamless, infinite, and whole... an expression of perfection, of equality in all directions.  For subtle reasons, circles represent the feminine... they also represent unity and eternity.  

The Ouroboros, a snake or dragon forming a circle with its tail in its mouth continually devouring itself and being reborn from itself, is a symbol of eternity and of the cyclic nature of the universe.  It expresses the unity of all things, which never disappear but change form in a cycle of destruction and re-creation. 

In Zen Buddhism, the circle represents the entire universe in a single, perfect stroke.

The Wheel of the Year is a Neopagan and Wiccan symbol for the Earth's cyclical seasons.  Buddhism's eight spoked wheel, the Dharmachakra, represents the teachings of the Buddha and the cycle of birth and rebirth.  

The square is a symbol of mathematical perfection... it depicts the four earthly elements, the four cardinal directions of physical space and time.  It represents concrete reality, stability, and logic.  Squares are sound, sturdy, pragmatic, and full of right angles.  They represent building blocks, integrity, and dependability.

Triangles represent balance, equanimity, harmony, enlightenment, Ascension, the Holy Trinity, the Triple Goddess, and the three realms of sleeping, dreaming, and dying... of underworld, this world, and the heavens... past, present, future... mother, father, child... love, truth, wisdom... maiden, mother, crone... creator, destroyer, sustainer.

Hearts are love...

Stars are the goddess... but it's not just geometric shapes that conjure up archetypes.  The word, "swastika" comes from the Sanskrit, svástika, and and dates from the Neolithic period as a religious symbol.  "Once commonly used all over much of the world without stigma, because of its iconic usage in Nazi Germany the symbol has become stigmatized in the Western world, notably even outlawed in Germany."(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swastika).

One might argue that this tells us symbols hold inherent meaning AND can evolve to take on drastically different socio-political meanings.  

Think about this...

 The Goddess of Willendorf...

With an estimated origin at 30,000 - 25,000 BCE, she's quite possibly the earliest depiction of the human form and "the first known religious image of the Mother Goddess in all her raw and fertile splendor." (http://www.goddessgift.com/colin-heaney-art-glass/goddess-willendorf-1.htm)   She's probably not the image of yourself you've been taught to honor.  At the same time, she's an exquisite image of the roaring, whole, round, mama, goddess most of us are...  not a stick figurine resembling an augmented, emaciated, pre-pubescent girl.  Our conditioned response to the female form has certainly evolved.

Both our nature, what is born in us, and our nurture, how we are conditioned, define who we are and what we believe.  What we allow into our consciousness, therefore, weighs heavily on what we will become.


Today for Om School we're getting outside and looking for shapes in nature.  Instead of telling A. what I think the shapes we discover mean, I'll ask her to express what they mean to her.  Maybe Jung and Campbell were right... maybe universal archetypes exist in the depths of our consciousness.  Maybe the Buddha was right... maybe all things are empty of inherent meaning and definitions only arise in relation to everything else.  Then again, maybe the only meaning things have is what we give them.  Whatever the case may be, I'm hoping that discovering hidden shapes in nature proves to be an awe inspiring adventure.

More than a Mind

Today was one more day in what feels like an endless stream of unschooling days.  We've been off of our regular schedule due to seasonal flu but, despite a little sleep deprivation, we're in good spirits and enjoyed the relaxing feel of this day.

Being off of our schedule is usually hard on us.  By the end of winter break I was itching to get back to school but this week has been different.  It's given me a chance to observe how much learning takes place even when we're really not planning for it.  It's also helped me connect more deeply with each moment.

This slowing down and connecting moment-to-moment is called mindfulness and it's a practice that has greatly benefited our family.  If you're not familiar with it, mindfulness is the practice of paying attention to both your inner and outer world without judgment.  It's being fully present in the moment instead of lost in plans, worries, or other distracting thoughts.  When we come to the moment with all of our awareness, we give our children the thing they want most from us -- us.  But the benefits don't stop there.

With mindfulness, we learn to see ourselves and those around us with more clarity.  We begin to recognize our habits, good and bad, and create an opportunity for growth and transformation.  When mindfulness is practiced as a family, we learn how to create joy and manifest a deep, loving bond with our kids.  We see them for who they really are and this allows us to engage more effectively in their lives.  We can't be there for them if we don't know them.  What's more, our ability to model and teach mindfulness can only come from the depths of our own practice.

Practicing mindfulness is teaching me to have patience and compassion for myself -- something that I didn't even know I was missing. This practice is certainly on the rise in the West and there are some great online places to learn more. 

For more information, check out mindfulness together, a social network created by Susan Kaiser Greenland, and mindfulkids, a site operated by students of social activist and Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh. But don't think that this is something complicated.  Mindfulness just means paying attention without judgment. 

Today's mindfulness activities consisted of watercolor painting, a game of chess, piano, and a little dance/movement.  Most importantly, today we engaged in nurturing, constructive activities together and gave each our full attention. 

Both dance and painting demand mindful attention.  In dance, our awareness drops down into our body.  We get out of our busy thoughts and focus on our movements.  The same thing happens when we express ourselves through music or visual arts.  Just engaging in these activities with your child is the beginning of developing mindful awareness.  When we dance or play music our inner light turns on; we connect with that part of ourselves that is more than our mind.

Playing chess is a little different.  It may sound challenging to play with a young child, but as a beginner myself, it's really fun.  I think the trick is seeing through your child's eyes.  We turn our game into imaginative play and make funny voices while trying to capture pieces.  Remembering the direction of each playing piece is an excellent memory building tool and taking the time to consider the consequences of your move before making it is a wonderful life lesson.  

In chess, as in life, there are always consequences for unconscious actions.  Learning to pause long enough to consider the effect of your actions is an essential part of our at-home curriculum.  Bringing your attention to the game and keeping it there gives your child the attention they crave and gives you an exercise in patience.


The last mindfulness practice for this day is one that we have planned for bedtime.  Connecting with our kids and engaging in their education means honoring their inner world and not just their mind.  Today begins Winter Feast for the Soul, a 40 day spiritual practice commitment.  This forty day event was was inspired by a quote from Rumi: "What nine months does for the embryo forty early mornings will do for your growing awareness."  My family is committing to eight minutes of stillness each day -- four minutes in the morning and four at bedtime.  We're starting and finishing each day breathing together, bringing our attention to our breath, and just... being... still.  

I'm still looking forward to getting back on our regular schedule on Monday but until then, I'm remembering that a child is more than a mind and enjoying things just how they are... right now... in this moment.