Trusting Our Inner-Wisdom

Amelie's Sunset Heart

Stepping outside of the mainstream takes courage.  Once you're there, staying there takes both a commitment to your own ideals and trust. But how do we learn to trust our inner-wisdom?  The first step is by paying attention with moment-to moment awareness.

Our decision to homeschool didn't come easy.  We had all of the same questions and doubts that everyone else has.  Can we really do this on our own?  Will she really get the best education we can provide?  How will we create positive socialization?  What about college?

Now that we're doing it, I find that those same questions still arise... but so do their answers.  We began our homeschooling journey in preschool.  A combination of disappointment with the available choices and love for learning together with our little one brought us here.  Now it's four years later and we're two and half months into first grade.  What's keeping us here?  A commitment to paying attention and trusting in the process.

I recently attended a debate for County Superintendent of Schools.  While neither candidate seemed to have the same vision for our schools that I would like to see, one of them possessed a perspective that stood in stark contrast to my own.  In support of standardized testing and basing teacher's wages on their student's performance, she said in a slick voice, "Data makes the invisible visible."  I wholeheartedly disagree. 

What makes the invisible visible is not data but relationships.  No multiple choice examinations or collection of processed figures can replace what the human heart is capable of perceiving.  We don't need more "measurable" results.  We just need to listen more closely to our children. 

If you think back to when your kids were very small, you'll probably remember all of those early milestones -- stacking blocks, sorting objects, gripping crayons, drawing circles, naming shapes and colors... first steps, first words, hopping, skipping, and jumping.  As parents, we're naturally tuned into our children and we see each of these little miracles as they unfold.  Then something happens.  They turn five and we stop trusting ourselves.  We send them off to school and forget that we - more than anyone else - are equipped to understand them. 

Our cat has a debaucherous habit of waking us up in the middle of the night by knocking over anything and everything in his reach.  Last week, he jumped up on Am's dresser and startled her awake.  I actually didn't hear a thing until she came in to tell me about it.   

"I was scared and my heart was beating really fast, mama," she said.  "So I sat up and listened to my breath... and my heart slowed down again!"

If you've been following our blog, you know that mindfulness and breath awareness are essential elements in our core curriculum.  Hearing her say those words was the sweetest little gift -- more measurable than any test result or report card.

Whether you're educating at home or just committed to engaging in your child's education, paying attention moment to moment can help you stay connected to their inner-world.  When we when bring this level of awareness to our parenting, we see the little miracles as they unfold.  Often, the little things we notice are the greatest gifts of all.  They enrich our lives with joy and help us build a strong foundation for trusting our inner-wisdom, trusting the process of parenting, and trusting that life is the best teacher.

This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. Inspired by Amanda Soule at SouleMama.  A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. Inspired by Amanda Soule at SouleMama.  A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

A New Beginning

We've been on a pretty long hiatus, haven't we?  But Om School is not closing its doors.  We're making room for a new student, actually.  

I've been absent from the blogosphere because we've been sitting on some exciting news for about a month now.  I wasn't ready to share with the entire universe until after that first sonogram... and having a little life growing inside me has been just about the only thing I can think of -- so the blogging had to take a back seat.  Until now.

We're due in late May and happy to report that Baby Om is growing strong and healthy right on schedule.  I'm focusing more on the magical, natural, and spiritual aspects of childbearing this time around.  I put down "What to Expect" after the first few pages and instead read Deepak's, Magical Beginnings, Enchanted Lives from cover to cover in just a few days.  Instead of buying into the medicalization of childbearing, I'm emptying my mind and embracing my inner-wisdom.  Our bodies know how to do this.  Like with so many other things in life, often all we really need is to get out of our own way.

Our schooling has already taken on a new shape... with first trimester challenges like morning sickness and pregnancy fatigue cutting into our usual program, we're learning to be more flexible with our schedule -- a skill we'll certainly need to have mastered by the baby's arrival.  We've been embracing our creative energies and looking at impermanence for our October mindfulness unit.  Am's added the soprano recorder to her musical repertoire, continues to enjoy piano, and has advanced a belt in karate.  We've been painting, counting by 2s, 3s, 5s, and 10s, and invented a new character, the Can Can Fairy, to help us with the four functions (of math).  We've read some amazing books lately -- our favorite being, Old Turtle and the Broken Truth which I hope to give a full review to here soon.   

I had all but forgotten what a magical time pregnancy is -- it's a time when our connection to Mama Universe is even more evident... a wondrous time when we're smack dab in the middle of the universe creating itself.  In Magical Beginnings, Chopra writes, "With the birth of every child, the universe chooses to look at itself with fresh eyes."  I hope you'll enjoy sharing this new beginning with us.  Many blessings to all.

Making the Darkness Conscious

On our Nature Table: balancing stones, Wild Child by Lynn Plourde, felted acorns, red manzanita bark, and seeds of awareness

When we see inner and outer realities as a single continuum, the universe becomes a mirror.  This makes life the best teacher.  As such, our eyes have been turned towards nature all month.   

Autumn is the season of restoring balance.  It is a time for letting go and emptying our minds so that we can see with clear eyes.  It's the bittersweet end of the abundance season and the beginning of earth’s decline into the resting season.

The Autumnal Equinox takes place each year about September twenty-third. The name "equinox" is derived from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night), because around the equinox, the night and day are approximately equally long.[i] 

This week, as we enter the time of introspection, we can also begin cultivating equanimity.  As Swiss psychologist Carl Jung explained, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”  To honor the Autumnal Equinox, we'll have a candlelight letting-go ritual this week.  Here's how: 

When unpleasant events arise, write them down.  Become aware of the sensations in your body and the feelings that accompany these situations. Do you raise your shoulders when you feel stress?  Does your stomach tighten when you are angry?  What happens to your breath when you are anxious?  Include these bodily sensations and feelings in your notes.  

Consider drawing pictures of the things in your life you would like to transform.  Examples might be impatience, judgment, negative thinking, or self-doubt.  Encourage younger children to remember a time when they felt upset, frustrated, or saddened.  Then help them identify the cause of their being upset and express it through artwork.  Very young children might express their feelings by experimenting with a variety of colored crayons or by drawing different shapes.

On the evening before the Autumnal Equinox, gather your family together around a candle that you have placed on a large plate.  Ask everyone to bring his or her drawings and words.  Explain the Equinox to your children:

"Twice per year, around March 20 or 21 and September 22 or 23, the sun shines directly on the equator and the length of day and night are nearly equal in all parts of the world.  We call these two days the March Equinox and the September Equinox. They are the two days of the year when the light is equal to the dark.  We have light and dark within us too.  The light in us is the part that brings joy to the whole world.  The dark is the part of us that experiences sorrow.  Equinox is a perfect time for balancing the light and dark within us."

Take turns sharing what you wrote or drew.  Next, consider turning off the lights and saying a verse like, “Tonight we create a balance of darkness and light.  Tonight we make the darkness conscious.”  Then light your candle.  Take turns placing your drawings and words on the plate by the candle, symbolically bringing light to them and releasing them into the fire.  When we use rituals such as this one at home, I say something like, “let us enjoy breathing together.” Then we sit together and cherish the moment.  Before blowing out the candle, consider saying, “Now we go forward with balance.”

Remember that this exercise is also about cultivating wisdom.  Developing awareness of when equanimity is absent helps us learn how to reclaim our balance.  We cannot expect to eliminate the darkness; however, we can bring light to it with our awareness.

This (2010) equinox is also a full moon, so we've been planting intentions all week.  Try sprinkling bird seed in your garden or even on a candle plate like the one shown above.  As you release the seeds, state your intentions with a strong, clear voice. "My intention is to listen deeply and use loving speech," or "My intention is to bring balance into my home." As the moon becomes full, her energy helps bring our intentions forth from the depths of our consciousness into the tangible world of our everyday lives.

[i] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Equinox

Equanimity for Equinox

We've been counting down the days until autumn, enjoying some cool weather, and watching the moon as she grows more and more full each night.  This morning we had some fun with a leaf printing project and now we're making a double batch of Roasted Red Pepper Potato Soup with goodies from our CSA and potatoes from a friend's garden.  The windows are open, the breeze is cool, and the the smell of onions, garlic, and peppers roasting in the oven has filled every corner of the house.  

With equinox approaching, we've been discussing how, like us, the earth must rest -- and that autumn is the beginning of her resting time.  We made a big, red, autumn tree and hung it in the classroom with the title, "Equanimity Equinox."  On one side of the tree we've written, "give, rest, dark, serious, sad, night, quiet."  On the other we've written, "receive, play, light, silly, happy, day, loud."  We can't have one without the other.

I've also been reading up on Michaelmas lately.  Michael is the "greatest of all the archangels and is honored for his defeat of Lucifer in the battle for the heavens in the Bible." (from Wiki).  Waldorf schools also use Michaelmas to teach students the importance of using courage to prepare for the colder, darker, winter months.  I'd like to give this a sacred feminine twist.  Maybe we'll tweak it into a goddess subduing a dragon.  Maybe we'll just forgo this festival altogether and have our own celebration to honor Persephone's return to the underworld.

"Greek mythology tells us that, each year as Persephone left to join her husband in the underworld, the goddess Demeter would begin to grieve, bringing on the cold, barren winters.  But a few months later Persephone, the goddess associated with awakening, would return to bring spring and its verdant growth in her wake . . . thus were the seasons established."  (read more here.)

This is the beauty of archetypal stories.  The names and places change, but the message is the same.  Each of us must, for a time, plummet into darkness and face our demons.  In the darkness, we find the light.  No life can be without a measure of darkness and without it, the light would lose meaning.  In autumn we begin our descent into the dark half of the year.  We can't stop it.  All we can do is make it conscious and trust that spring will come again.  This is the how balance is created.

Still, I think it's important for our daughters to hear stories that speak directly to their experiences.  Hero stories greet us at every turn... but what of the heroine?  Persephone's story seems more fitting for us, I think.  

I guess I'm still undecided about Michaelmas.  For now we're just experiencing the change of seasons, watching the moon grow, and seeing ourselves reflected in each autumn leaf.

Finding Center

When my little one started talking at eight months, I was mesmerized and quickly got on the "more-better-faster" cultural bandwagon of early childhood education. 

By the time she was one, I'd filled the bath tub with foam letters and began forming three letter words during bath-time.   At bed-time I'd read slowly while pointing to the words on the chunky cardboard pages -- emphasizing the sounds of the letters and their place on the page.  I made everything I could into a learning game, "one ladybug plus two ladybugs equals three ladybugs!"

Before she was two, I'd bought mountains of books and and turned "playing school" into a game.  I prefaced everything with it's color, "hand mommy the green ball," "I like Daddy's red shirt," "that's such a pretty brown dog."  I mentioned numbers everywhere I saw them, "look at the five-petaled flower," "see the four birds on the fence." I counted the beans on her high chair tray as she ate them, "seven beans minus one bean is six beans!"

When she learned her shapes and colors before her second birthday, I was thrilled by her capacity for learning.  By the time she was three, she was reading and our homeschool was taking form as more than a game we played.  Learning together had become our way of life.  Each new day was an adventure in learning. 

We went on like this for some time.  The more she learned, the  more work I gave her.  (In hindsight, I think this is where we went wrong.)  I bought all of the workbooks I could find and sat her down at her desk each morning with phonics and math worksheets while I made breakfast or did dishes.  Before she was five, she'd completed all the workbooks for Kindergarten and First Grade phonics and math.  Before Kindergarten was through, she'd mastered the entire Fry's 300 sight word list and was, according to an assesment tool at Hoagies, reading at a fourth grade level.

But at the same time, I couldn't help but think that this wasn't the the best path.  As Kindergarten pressed on, I began to slow down... I began to ask myself, "where does this path lead?"  What was I really trying to accomplish here?  Isn't there more to nurture in a child than their intellect?  How much stress is this causing her?  And do I really want my girl sitting at a desk filling out worksheets all of the time?  I thought back to the fun we had when she was a toddler -- learning as we went about our day... rather than sitting at a desk with her tiny fingers cramped around a pencil.  It was about this time that I really got down to reading about different methods of education and discovered the wonderful world of Waldorf.

Waldorf's hands on learning approach seemed similar to what we'd been doing in the early years.  I liked the "how" -- the method of learning -- but I wasn't sold on the "when."  (Waldorf asks us to hold off on the academics until the child is six or seven years old.)  I was certainly ready to give up the worksheets -- but I wasn't completely ready to give up on the standards.  Waldorf asks us to do just that -- to let go of our pre-formed ideas of how, what, and when our children should be learning and, at least in the early years, embrace a softer, slower pace.  In this fast paced world, how does one let their child "fall behind" their peers in school?  To answer that question, I had to take a long, hard look at the system and the standards.  I had to question why traditional schools were teaching what they were teaching and how they were teaching it.  What I found was a strange history and a barrage of voices crying out for an education revolution...

Voices like John Holt, an early proponent of homeschool who argued that children do not learn in school because they are afraid of failing... voices like John Taylor Gatto who writes, "school often acts as an obstacle to success. To go from the confinement of early childhood to the confinement of the classroom to the confinement of homework, working to amass a record entitling you to a “good” college, where the radical reduction of your spirit will continue, isn’t likely to build character or prepare you for a good life..." 

... voices like Sir Ken Robinson who argues that the absence of music, art, and dance in our institutionalized schools is educating the creativity right out of our kids... and voices like Lawrence Williams who writes, "We continue this sad charade generation after generation, crushing the boundless potential of billions of children, yet we never consider trying another approach, an approach which would permit those infinite resources to flow abundantly into the world for the healing of us all."

When I look back at these six years, I regret pushing the worksheets and putting so much emphasis on keeping ahead of the standards (without first questioning the origin of those standards).  Those were the things that caused tears, worries, and took the fun out of learning.  Those were the things that I think disrupt a child's balanced growth by forcing the intellect too soon -- and this quickly became apparent to me.  But the other things we've done (looking for organic learning opportunities in everything we do together, immersion in archetypes, mindfulness, yoga, etc.) worked.  I think it's time for all of us to re-evaluate the "more-better-faster" model of education.  We should take care not to push too hard or neglect the arts in favor of strict academic achievements.  Our pendulum needs to swing back to the middle.  

For First Grade we've gone beyond the standards, beyond the books, slowed down, and embraced childhood more fully.  We're using the Oak Meadow curriculum, keeping it fun, looking at the big picture, and giving A. every chance to express herself artistically in an environment that nurtures more than her mind.  Our first nine days have included finger-knitting a dress-up scarf and headband, wet-on-wet watercolor painting, learning Mary Had a Little Lamb on the soprano recorder, beeswax crayon drawing, an array of archetypal stories, a review of the four processes of math with a story about The Four Gnomes (named Plus, Minus, Times, and Divide), nature walks and setting up a nature table, pressing flowers, watching the moon and learning about its phases, making a September calendar for our classroom, playing memory games with the contents of our CSA Veggie Box (while learning about eating locally, organically, & seasonally), and making time for plenty of imaginative play with natural toys and playsilks.

With the Autumn Equinox taking place this year on September 23rd, our mindfulness unit this month is Equanimity (or upekkha in the Indic language of Pali).  Equanimity is the capacity for experiencing whatever is happening with composure of mind and heart.  It is the ability to resist extremes and balance gracefully in the middle-ness.  As the days become equal to the night, we are practicing becoming aware of our own dark and light moments and learning how we can experience both with equanimity.  

I hope to make time for writing more about our Equanimity Unit  soon.  In the meantime, I'm continuing to find my own center and come back to it again and again.