Symbols of Spring

Springtime has our focus on the feminine... on new life, crafting, creating, and rejuvenating. We've enjoyed making garlands with hand painted blown eggs and learning about eggs as a symbol of fertility...  We made a pretty little star with sticks and the lavender growing rampant in our yard and hung it over the seedlings in our kitchen for blessings from Mother Earth... 

We learned about the origins of spring holidays and honored the goddess Ostara with offerings of rice, flowers, stone eggs in a raffia nest, feathers, and stone towers representing the vernal equinox and return of balanced days and nights.... 

We planted seeds in egg crates and enjoyed combining two powerful images of new life.  Most of all, we've been honoring the earth's rebirth by simply spending family time together.

Our academic adventures are turned to the letter T with sixteen new words: take, that, the, their, them, they, this, three, tree, to, two, tell, than, these, thing, and tiger.  

We're spelling in song:
t-h-r-e-e, t-h-r-e-e, t-h-r-e-e, that's how we spell three! 


We're writing new sentences:
Three tall trees sway.
Two tigers tapdance.
Tell them they're late!


We're working on sister sums for math... matching doubles with equations of the same sum (4+4 with 5+3 and 6+2, etc.)


We've fallen in love with a wonderful book about loving-kindness, Tenzin's Deer: A Tibetan Tale by Barbara Soros,"a tale of compassion, healing, and the guiding power of dreams..." that "urges us to listen to our intuition and be courageous in the face of loss."

We're continuing our dharma unit on the three facets of right intention and have re-named last year's stuffed Easter Peeps.  Meet Mother Intention, Pinky Renunciation, Bluey Good Will, and Purpley Harmlessness.  We're working on a story that illustrates the intention of renunciation as resistance to the pull of desire, the intention of good will as resistance to feelings of anger and aversion, and the intention of harmlessness as not thinking or acting cruelly, violently, or aggressively, and to develop compassion.

Last but not least, we're working on a new yoga sequence and accompanying verse.  The first two lines came from our Oak Meadow Kindergarten syllabus.  I've expanded it and added asanas intended to help develop a strong, feminine sense of self.  The sequence is illustrated by my little yogini below.


I can be as small
as a small, small seed
I can be as tall
as a tall, tall tree
As strong as a mountain
As brave as can be
Because I'm a goddess
can't you see!

 

Our new sequence, from left to right: Seed Pose, Tree Pose (Vrksasana), Mountain Pose (Tadasana), Warrior I (Virabhadrasana I), Goddess Pose (Utkata Konasana), Prayer Pose (Pranamasana).

Spring is a time of balance and renewal but it also feels like a feminine season to me.  It's a time for planting, growing, and bringing forth new life from the earth and from within.  In a world that seems to have forgotten it's feminine history, this feels like the perfect season for remembering.

Sacred Refuge

After taking note of Shannon Hayes' book in the New York Times article, The Femivore's Dilemma, this morning I read a fabulous review of Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity from a Consumer Culture.  I've been feeling empowered all day.  Surely, having my existence validated feels good, but that's only a tiny piece of it.  It's more that I've been reminded that I'm not alone in my endeavors to make my home a sacred refuge from economic materialism.  

Throughout the day my thoughts returned to the women I'm honored to know... supra-ordinary mamas who are redefining feminism by simplifying their lives and setting their heart's compass to ecological sustainability, social justice, and family well-being.  In some ways, it feels like the mamas of today have given birth to a new paradigm for femininity.  We've discovered that life outside the office doesn't mean a four walled torture chamber of bon bons and casseroles.  We know what road blind servitude and mindless consumerism takes us down and we're choosing a new path.

I don't think radical homemaking would be possible without the blood and sweat of our feminist sisters who paved the way... and I wouldn't want to stay home if our culture was as patriarchally backwards as it was 50 years ago.  Does this suggest a return of the Sacred Feminine?  Maybe our world is finally beginning to realize that internalizing our female half practically tipped the earth off of her axis. 

With my inner-goddess invoked, our school day felt like a downhill slalom.  I woke up before dawn and sat in meditation for an hour, then spent the sunrise in Surya Namaskara with the Gāyatrī Mantra.  Full of sunbeams and universe juice, it was time for tending to seedlings, plants, and compost, then a slow-paced, mindful breakfast, lesson planning, and organizing artwork into portfolios. 

The highlights of our day included:

a little Greek Mythology...
with the story of Persephone, Goddess of Spring and Queen of the Underworld, from The Lady of Ten Thousand Names: Goddess Stories from Many Cultures retold by Burleigh Muten.  

a silly tongue twister...

Swan swam over the sea

Swim swan! Swim!

Swan swam back again

Well swum swan!

... writing some sentences:

Six swans swim swiftly.

Seven sisters sleep soundly.

Silver stars shine in the sheltering sky.

... spelling our S words in song:

s-e-v-e-n, s-e-v-e-n, s-e-v-e-n, that's how we spell seven!

... an introduction to the second spoke of the dharma wheel, right intention - in Pali samma sankappa:

The Buddha explained right intention as threefold: the intention of renunciation, the intention of good will, and the intention of harmlessness.

... a little piano practice perfecting

a Samba!

Then it was time for a piano lesson, a ballet class, and the park with daddy.  Still, the best part of the day was our continued seeking of spring.  We're blessed to live in a warm little corner of the universe and everywhere we turned, Persephone's work abounded.  Too beautiful for words, I'll close here with some pictures.

cherry blossoms aflame

almost like a lotus unfurling

rosemary gone wild

seedlings sprouting...

 and shining in the sun

baby leaves being born on our favorite oak

welcome little leaves!

spring heralds popping up in the fairy garden

snow peas smiling

and the sweet taste of dew drops!


(support the author and buy Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity from a Consumer Culture direct!)

S is for Spring

With one week to go, signs of spring abound and, by yet another sweet synchronicity, we began our letter S unit this week.  

We use Fry's 300 Instant Sight Words for our weekly words.  With a total of 30 S Words on the list, we decided to split it in half and give the letter S two weeks instead of one.  This week's words were: spring, said, see, she, so, stand, such, some, saw, say, school, seem, shall, should, soon, and sure.  Instead of a written spelling test this week, we elected for something more fun.  After singing all of the words all week, we had a family Spelling Bee on Saturday.  I'm proud to report that A. is becoming quite a fantastic little speller. 

Some of other S things we enjoyed this week were Spring's Sprung by Lynn Plourde, beautifully illustrated by Greg Couch, learning to play a Samba on piano, Book 10 in Scholastic's Planet Earth Phonics Reading Program - Snakes, and committing to memory eight math facts we called "sister sums" where we matched doubles (like 4+4 and 6+6) with other math facts (like 5+3 and 7+5).

Still, the highlights of our week were welcoming spring in our outdoor classroom.  We've been closely watching the trees in our area give birth to blossoms and baby leaves.  Our neighbor's Flowering Cherry is aflame with pink blossoms, our winter daphne is full and sweet smelling, the manzanita are covered in tiny white flowers, our snow peas are thriving, and our tomato and jalapeno seedlings are now three inches tall with water droplets always glistening on their primary leaves.

With the sun's return, and our studies turned to the letter S, it seemed like a perfect time for sun salutations... a moving prayer of gratitude to the life-giving energy of the sun.  Sun salutation, Surya Namaskar, links together twelve asanas in a dynamic flow.  Beginning the day with a set in each of the four cardinal directions wakes up our bodies, gets out the wiggles, and as Christopher Key Chapple, a professor of Indic and comparative theology at Loyola Marymout University says in this month's Yoga Journal, "calls us to stretch our minds and spirits to the corners of the universe, allowing us to feel the vast expanse of the cosmos within the movement of our bodies."

The ability to sense the cosmos within our body is something I hope my munchkin is cultivating through our at-home studies.  It comes when we slow down, when we put some space between our habitual responses and our actions, and when we take care to spend time with the natural world.  

Watching tiny blossoms sprout from barren winter branches reminds me that spring is a promise the earth keeps each year.  Sensing the birth of that promise within myself gives me a deep peace -- a trusting feeling in my heart.  There is a surrender, a certain acceptance, in this trusting... a calmness of spirit that informs each day with joy.


Tomorrow we'll begin eight more sister sums, fourteen new S words, sing a silly swan tongue twister, and continue seeking spring.  Tonight, I'm settling down with my family for a Sunday night in stillness.

Fairy Eyes, Beginner's Mind

It started on Sunday with a dear friend and an afternoon walk.  The girls wanted to wear fairy wings, so with their wands in the air, we set out in search of bits, bobs, and lost things to use for building a fairy garden.

The lot next door to our house is empty but for trees, rocks, and wild grasses.  To one set of eyes, a vacant lot is just empty space.  To another, it's a wonderland of secret treasures.  Having kids helps us keep our fairy eyes open... it's that ability to see things with a beginner's mind, with "an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconception," that creates opportunities for learning, growth, and self-awareness.  This is one of the guiding principals of our at-home education:  beginner's mind.

Shunryu Suzuki's book Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, reflects a saying of his regarding the way to approach Zen practice: "In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the expert's mind there are few."  I think this is the best way to approach just about everything.  When our ideas are already formed, there's no room for anything new... no room for anything magical or full of wonder.

In a wonderful lecture, Beginner's Mind, Abbess Zenkei Blanche Hartman defines beginner's mind as, "...the mind that is innocent of preconceptions and expectations, judgments and prejudices. Beginner's mind is just present to explore and observe and see "things as-it-is." I think of beginner's mind as the mind that faces life like a small child, full of curiosity and wonder and amazement. "I wonder what this is? I wonder what that is? I wonder what this means?" Without approaching things with a fixed point of view or a prior judgment, just asking "what is it?"  

Our world is one where knowing things is held in the highest regard.  Our schools function to test and measure minds and our children are pushed to memorize and repeat facts.  But what about preserving their ability to see things as they are?  What about nurturing their ability to build on ideas of their own?  Isn't this just as valuable (or maybe even more valuable) than the ability to remember things?

I think a child's mind is more than a bowl to fill... more than a receptacle for the things our society deems important.  If we spend all of our days filling up their heads with ideas, then what happens to the ideas of their own?  Equally important to learning about the world from a teacher's or an adult's perspective is seeing the world from a child's eyes.  

We filled a basket with treasures and have been working on our fairy garden all week.  We're practicing wearing our fairy eyes and seeing things just as they are, without prior judgment.  

With practice, we begin to see other aspects of our lives with this mind.  We lose our prejudices and notice that the world is full of wonder and magic.  It's here, in this spacious awareness, that we become free.

A Quiet Garden

With my dad's passing two weeks ago, time slowed down.  Each day feels languid and somewhat surreal yet sweet and new all at the same time.  We've been spending a lot of time planting and enjoying some bright pre-spring weather while taking care to experience all of our feelings and honor the stillness within.

Part of our daily Circle Time consists of a little ritual we call Creative Infinity.  Our Creative Infinity is that place inside where the whole Universe lives.  We imagine our heart beating and then see inside to the molecules, atoms, and quarks of which we're comprised. 

"What's a quark made of, mama?"

"Energy.  Everything is energy."

Maybe inside the tiniest particles are secret gateways into infinity.  Maybe this is from where our ideas come.  Maybe this is heaven.

When we're still, we can send our awareness down into our heart, into our Creative Infinity, and unite our intellect with our love.  This is one of the guiding principles of our home education -- developing a wise heart.

My Creative Infinity has been very quiet lately.  I suspect this is because, when my dad passed, my heart broke open so he could come in.  I feel him there now and before we get back to the busyness of our regular lives, I wish to stay with the stillness a little longer. 

Meanwhile, we are enjoying pre-spring sunshine and getting a head start on our garden. We've planted the snapdragons from my dad's service and we're working on a healing garden with Ayurvedic and other medicinal and culinary herbs. We've started a fairy garden with butterfly attracting blooms, planted peas in pots (and in an old tupperwear container that was collecting dust in the garage), we planted a few marigolds with hopes that we won't have any more frost -- but put them in pots just in case; and we're planning a salsa garden with tomatoes and peppers in a big wine barrel.  I think we'll also do carrots and strawberries in a big wine barrel too.

Getting our hands in the soil reminds us of where we come from and to where we are going. Spending this quiet time together in the garden feels so right.  Our innermost self is stillness, is pure awareness.  When we rest in this stillness, we return home.  It is here, in this sanctuary of our own hearts, that the world is restored and begins to bloom again.

Farewell Big Grandpa

My dad passed away on Wednesday.  While he will be missed, we are feeling a deep peace at his release from suffering.  Big Grandpa, as Amelie called him, found out his cancer had come back one year ago. Despite the physical limitations cancer created for his body, he spent the last year doing the things he loved... spending time with friends, family, and nature.  Services will be held Monday afternoon.  Until then, we're spending quiet time together just remembering, breathing, and letting our hearts shine light to guide him on is way.  

The preciousness of human life lies in our heart's ability to love.  My dad loved so many of us and was loved in return.  Thank you all for your support during this difficult time.  The gentle touch of friendship is holding us in a warm embrace.

Beneath the Surface

Our February thematic unit, Life Beneath the Surface, is under way. We're honoring the halfway point through winter by remembering that underneath earth's barren surface, life is preparing to be born.  

Yesterday, we created a new yoga flow where we plough the earth preparing the soil, plant ourselves like little seeds, and, with sunshine and rain, grow into tall, tall trees.  The sequence is demonstrated below.

Throughout the month, we'll hear stories about planting our intentions, watering the seeds in our consciousness that help foster compassion, and how our minds are like a garden where every kind of seed is planted (seeds of  happiness, peace, anger, and fear). The quality of life, as Thich Nhat Hanh writes in Understanding our Mind, depends on the quality of the seeds. By learning how to water seeds of joy, understanding, love, and compassion can flower.

 

First, in pough pose, we prepare the soil.  Then, with the ground awakened, the seed is planted (child's pose) and nestled snugly in the soft soil.  With sunshine and rain the seed begins to stir, then sprout up from the seemingly barren surface. The little sprout's roots dig deep into the solid earth (mountain pose).  With blessings (prayer pose) the little sprout grows and grows (tree pose 1) and grows (tree pose 2).

Some highlights from our letter P week:

• Peaceful Piggy Meditation by Kerry Lee MacLean in which two piggies balance stressful, hectic lives with regular meditation
• Poetry Soup -- a night of candlelight and classic children's poetry while making soup with veggies from our certified organic CSA, Riverdog Farm 
• Punxsutawney Phil and a lesson on the origin of Groundhog Day (see: Celebrating Candlemas - School of the Seasons)
  
• Plough Pose and Prayer Pose
  
• Puppet Theatre
• Piano Practice
  
• Playtime with Anchor Stone blocks
• Letter P Scavenger Hunt (we found persimmon, pine and plum trees, puppies, poles, and people).
• Still planned is painting with Pablo Picasso, potting plants, and planting peas.  

Anchor Stones were designed by Friedrich Fröbel, the creator of the kindergarten system. They are made of natural stone so precisely cut and polished that they fit together perfectly.