As summer teases me with it’s end, I’ve been reminded in more ways than I would have ever asked to be that seasons of change and transition are an ever present part of life. I am reminded that even when I feel my greatest want is for things to be the “same” for awhile, my greatest need could very well be a more courageous face off with yet another set layers I need to shed.

I’m talking about finding stability in the midst of seeming turmoil. Of realizing you have a deep fear that needs to be addressed and purged, a fear you would have not realized was such an underlying driving force in your life had your situation remained honkey dory.

(Did I just say honkey dory? You bet ya )

So I hear Fall is the seasonal representation of letting go, of asking yourself what things you are holding on to. I’ve stumbled upon a blog about transitions and have been getting such nuggets of wisdom:

“From a spiritual perspective, every transition is an opportunity for growth. As we learn how to let go into ‘groundlessness’, we move into a more effortless alignment with life. Life is ever-changing, and when we approach transitions consciously and with the intention of growth, we eventually learn how to accept this truth with grace.

This is not an easy task. Transitions require no less than the willingness to die, to sit in the uncomfortable void, and to be reborn. Who would willingly embrace this task? For some of us, we have no choice. Transitions seem to pull us into the underworld and create such fear, pain, confusion, and disorientation that we must seek help. While in the throes of this challenge, this may seem unfair, and we may be plagued with questions…

Yet when we finally emerge from the pain, we see that the struggle was well worth it. For to enter into the death-void-rebirth cycle is to embark on the heroine’s journey. And when the heroine returns from her voyage, she carries the boons—or jewels—of her travels. One of the great boons is that she knows, at a deeper layer of consciousness, that there can be no light without entering the darkness, and that with each descent into her darkness, the light shines ever more brightly. She knows that next time she is pulled into the darkness—which most likely will occur in the midst of her next major transition—she will be able to navigate the journey with grace. She trusts that, even as she cries and rages, she is exactly where she needs to be. She realizes that she is developing a capacity to die and be reborn and she recognizes that there is no greater spiritual task on earth.” – beautifully written by Sheryl at Conscious Transitions

I cling to such a deeper hope these days that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, in the midst of a stormy sea of fear and confusion and pain. Weaker moments come and go, moments of despair that will surely continue to show themselves for the rest of my life. But I’m learning a lot and part of my dread is turning into excitement about the challenge of removing unnecessary things I’ve held on to, of finding a deeper freedom and faith. Of learning about truly unselfish love, hope, mercy, and about my true self that I keep reading about from Thomas Merton (and bare with me as I share ):

“If we love one another truly, our love will be graced with a clear-sighted prudence which sees and respects the designs of God upon each separate soul. Our love for one another must be rooted in a deep devotion to Divine Providence, a devotion that abandons our own limited plans into the hands of God…

a selfish love seldom respects the rights of the beloved to be an autonomous person. Far from respecting the true being of another and granting his personality room to grow and expand in its own original way, this love seeks to keep him in subjection to ourselves… Such love fears nothing more than the escape of the beloved… A love, therefore, that is selfless, that honestly seeks the truth, does not make unlimited concessions to the beloved…

Hope deprives us of everything that is not God, in order that all things may serve their true purpose as means to bring us to God. Hope is proportionate to detachment. It brings our souls into the state of the most perfect detachment. In doing so, it restores all values by setting them in their right order. Hope empties our hands in order that we may work with them. It shows us that we have something to work for, and teaches us how to work for it.

…All desires but one can fail. The only desire that is infallibly fulfilled is the desire to be loved by God.

…Only the man who has had to face despair is really convinced that he needs mercy. Those who do not want mercy never seek it. It is better to find God on the threshold of despair than to risk our lives in a complacency that has never felt the need of forgiveness. A life without problems may literally be more hopeless than one that always verges on despair.

So thank You for despair, transition and letting go. May they be gentle teachers – I have much to learn.

“”No matter how together we may appear, even to ourselves, buried deep within our heart is the vague sense that something is wrong, dreadfully wrong…

We live in an unnatural environment, a world in which we were not designed to live. We were meant to enjoy a garden without weeds, relationships without friction, fellowship without distance. But something is wrong, and we know it, both within our world and within ourselves. Deep inside we sense we’re out of the nest, always ending the day in a motel room, never home. When we’re honest, we can see we handle our discomfort by keeping our distance from people, responding more to our fears than to another’s desire for love.

We wish we were better than we are, but we’re not.
…

Perhaps the majority of people who report pleasant feelings with only occasional struggles are … rearranging furniture in the motel room, hoping it will feel like home. When we succeed at arranging our life so that “all is well,” we keep ourselves from facing all that’s going on inside. And when we ignore what’s going on inside, we lose all power to change what we do on the outside in any meaningful way.

…

Dogmatism, a demand that we indoctrinate others with our understanding of what is moral, replaces an openness to investigating what God might really want from us.

…

Comforting thoughts about God’s faithfulness can keep us living on the surface of life, safely removed from a level of pain and confusion that seems overwhelming. But God is most fully known in the midst of confusing reality. To avoid asking the tough questions and facing the hard issues is to miss a transforming encounter with God.

…

Life is just too confusing, relationships too difficult, experiences too disappointing, and responsibilities too burdensome for people to easily pretend that the keys to effect living are just doing their duty and denying all that troubles them.

Parents are finding little help in all the popular formulas and principles as they try to deal with their daughter… They no longer feel confident as they do all they know to do.

Men sense their weakness and wish with all their hearts that they knew how to be meaningfully involved with their families. But their efforts to lovingly lead end up in failure. They then retreat to whatever sphere of life offers them a sense of competence, and live without the rich joy of being involved husbands and fathers.

…

We want more, and are therefore vulnerable to following anyone who convincingly holds out the promise of more. We try the latest spiritual fad… and we always come up short. Nothing satisfies, nothing works. In our heart, we know that our latest effort to follow Christ has left issues in our soul unaddressed.

…

Observing habits of self-discipline, orderliness, and general cordiality [bring to mind words like] effective, respectable, and nice. When I look at his life I think, “I should be more disciplined.” I feel a bit pressured, somewhat guilty, and occasionally motivated. The effect of my [struggling friend who responds to terribly disappointing struggle in his life by loving others more deeply], on the other hand, is not to make me say, “I should be more disciplined” but ” I want to be more loving”.

The difference is enormous. Some people push me to DO better by trying harder. Others draw me to BE better by enticing me with an indefinable quality about their lives that seems to grow out of an unusual relationship with Christ, one that really means something, one that goes beyond correct doctrine and appropriate dedication to personally felt reality. The few who report occasional glimpses of Christ that touch their souls more deeply than any other experience of life are the ones who entice me with the possibility of change.

…

An inside look [at our heart] must anticipate uncovering deep, unsatisfied longings that bear testimony to our dignity, as well as foolish and ineffective strategies for keeping ourselves out of pain that reflect our depravity. Each of us is a glorious ruin. And the further we look into our heart, the more clearly we can see the wonder of our ability to enjoy relationship alongside the tragedy of our determination to arrange for our own protection from hurt.”

- (from Inside Out, Dr. Larry Crabb)

After thinking about doing so for a few weeks now, I’ve decided this evening to take some time away from social networks and blogs for awhile, perhaps the month of August, maybe longer. I need to focus on my work, my writing, and Ethan’s kindergarten home school curriculum. I feel the “bustle” of the WWW is zapping too much of my precious mental and emotional resources for these things.

I also hope to do some soul-searching this month, learn a few new skills, gain some peaceful center and find the wisdom to deal with difficult situations I find myself in. That and just kinda… be present.

From a heart overflowing,

“mama”

We all have one of those days. Probably often.

It’s not that something tragic happens or anything actually “bad”, really. It’s just that, even when you are feeling groovy, things around you just are sorta … not flowing?

Maybe I am posting this because it is August. August is, I admit, my least favorite month of the year. I love love love the Fall, Winter and Spring, but Summer has a few highlights and then by August I just want to fast forward to late September, Harvest Festivals and cool nights…

There is truly so much beauty and inspiration in life, but there are times that you have to look a lot harder than normal to see it. I can show you pictures of the kids and the garden, of tea cups and candles and butterflies — but what is beyond the frame of the camera lens? Do I have bad days? A messy house? Longings unfulfilled? Bugs in my garden?

Well, folks, I DO! And despite that I do deem my life magical and charming (thanks mainly to my sweet children, with little help from me!) – there ARE things outside the frame.

So today, instead of the usual Friday “This Moment” of cherished memories, I will let you see beyond the frame into the everyday not-so-quaint parts of my life.

I have dishes that pile up in just 6 hours:

and clothes that have been sitting in the washing machine for several days because I haven’t had time to hang them on the line:

kids who strew their clothes all over their room after you just put them away:

These bugs:

Who do this to all my beautiful corn:

A whole jar full of these bugs:

Who do this to my pumpkin patch:

Flowers that fade much too soon:

And kids who pick their nose:

Not to mention, of course, the AWESOME fact that I hear a litter of raccoons in my attic at midnight:

So, dears, take heart — and I will try too. Maybe if we can embrace life’s messiness and disappointments we can be truly grateful for all we have.

so much to say after this two week hiatus – not sure where to begin.

There’s pics to display, stories of success and failure to share, news to report.

These weeks have included:

- lots of wrestling with the same ol’ life lessons we are too hard headed to “get”

- Ethan turned 5 years old.

- I realized he is a “spirited extrovert” as described in the book “Raising a Spirited Child”. With a sigh of relief I felt more equipped to handle our differences and celebrate who is he is.

- A sweet visit from my sister and her fam

- A heat wave

- Lots of bugs on my vegetable beds that have brought me much frustration. Gardening is supposed to be fun, isn’t it??? I have a nice huge bowl of cayenne/garlic tea I plan to spray all over them tomorrow, so we’ll see if that helps.

- The decision that we want to leave AR when we “get our ducks in a row” to do so. Either back to OR, our “soul home”, and then eventually a village in Burgundy France

- A new show we enjoy together in the after hours of parenting : DEXTER!

- A wee-hours-of-the-morning, spontaneous prayer combustion, awesome girls night with the “Radical Homemaking” group

- Three days of fatigue to recover from the wee-hours-of-the-morning girl night.

- Two of my chickens were killed, leaving a lone Daffodil.

- We trapped the likely culprit, a raccoon, only to accidentally kill it by leaving the cage in the sun during a heat wave for a few hours. Also, it left behind some family members in the attic, which has Ethan terrified and a very light sleeper – a bummer.

- Laughter, tears, prayers, meals, talks, books… life.

I guess that about wraps it up. Until next time…

Last week we had a few days of cookie making, movies, and mud pies that come along with rain. The kids and I LOVE the rain…

There is something very crucial about experiencing rain – up close and personal, not always tucked away inside cars and houses. Like knowing the warmth on your face from a live fire, or sticking your toes deep down in the wet sand at the water’s edge and “sinking”; your body touching the elements, making you more real, more alive…

it’s invigorating. We soaked it up, as did the gardens, knowing July and August will likely not bless us with so much wet abundance from here on out!

And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than down. Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.
Gilbert K. Chesterton

Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity.–Charles Mingus

“I’m homeschooling because I know in my heart it is RIGHT.”

This type of statement can be heard/seen pretty frequently in the homeschooling community, I’ve probably said it myself, almost unconsciously, as a reason for what we’re doing (as if you really owe some one an explanation, lol).

I think there is some error in that. The first is in assuming that hefty word: RIGHT.

It’s not that I don’t believe some things are inherently right and wrong. But many things wrong are done with good intentions, and I think that is often the result of a duality viewpoint. For example, “if sending kids to traditional “school” is wrong, then I am “right”". Some think time outs are “wrong” (”love withdrawel” we like to rename it – the Alfie Kohn er’s perhaps?) and others don’t (Nanny 911 crowd, cheer!); scheduled meals/bedtimes is wrong and others right (unschoolers vs Waldorfers, anyone???); circumcision wrong and others right (attachment parenters vs. Babywisers, holler!); you get the idea. (ohhhh, I just thought about some even more challenging ones for me: SUGAR, CONSUMPTION, and BREASTFEEDING! Aghst!)

Speaking internally, as well; inside myself, I wrestle daily with “that is the wrong thought. That is the wrong emotion” – assigning virtues to emotions that are so much more simple than all that I give them credit for. Thich Nhat Hanh, in his book Anger, says it well:

The foundation of our practice is the insight of non-duality, the insight of non-violence. This insight teaches us how to treat our body with tenderness. We must treat our anger and our despair with tenderness. Anger has roots in non-anger elements. It has roots in the way we live our daily life. If we take good care of everything in us, without discrimination, we prevent our negative energies from dominating. We reduce the strength of our negative seeds so that they don’t overwhelm us.

As I said, I do believe some things are truly right and wrong, in a universal kind of way. But there are very, very few things I think probably fit that bill. The rest is sooooo subjective. And certainly no parenting or schooling technique is so “right” that it ensures happy, well-adjusted, peaceful kids who excel at whatever they put their hands on and grow up to live a life of the utmost value (college, jobs, artistic or altruistic endeavors- whatever it is YOU the parent think is the utmost value, lol!).

I’m learning this, ever so slowly. The more life broadens the range of my community, I find folks and families who simply defy my stereotypes, who teach me something from a new perspective, and the more I recognize the importance of non-duality. All these opinions and choices exist in the same spirit of parents trying to do the best for their children, (often royally screwing much of it up – whether they know it or not, ha!) and by all different means and methods.

Practically speaking, I was just at my Radical Homemakers group on Tuesday and the subject of homeschooling came up. In the book, the author challenges some typical American assumptions, and one of them is this statement: “Education is not a fixed-cost”, i.e. deep, good learning can happen anywhere, in many ways, at all times, and does not have to be purchased (eg private schools, college, etc).

The group was about evenly divided on the public schooling moms and homeschooling moms, and of course I shared why even on the worst days when I feel like a total failure, and the best public elementary school (maybe in the whole state?) is a stone throw away from my house, I still talk myself down from enrolling Ethan in kindergarten.

And when you share such strong choices rooted in strong values with the world, it is so very important to love – always always love. And with that love for the people around you, you speak with respect for their different viewpoints and try your best to think through what your going to say before using words like “because I know what I’m doing is RIGHT”. Sometimes I do a good job with that, other times I totally fail and come off like the self-righteous hippie (you didn’t think I was aware of that, did ya?). But the truth is that I don’t think WHAT I AM DOING is RIGHT. I don’t. At all.

(I also don’t happen to think it’s wrong, of course. )

It, my friends, is JUST A DECISION. We humans make decisions based on many insights, influences, and factors, and then we do our best. And sometimes we change our mind. Move. Quit a job. Leave a relationship. Just choices. Period. End of story. (No arguing necessary.) Some seem right or wrong, only in hindsight we may appreciate the experience for all it was worth and have grace on ourselves and others who brought turmoil to life because of their choices. In the end, I believe God is the Author of our story and the Forgiver of our mistakes. Mistakes that might cause problems but often get us right where we need to be anyway. (amen and amen?!)

How I feel about homeschooling is deeply rooted in my experiences and knowledge and desires, and while I don’t mean it is “just a decision” to say that I take the choice of my child’s learning lightly (because believe you me, I don’t!). I know that successes and failures (poster children for every argument!) come out BOTH sides of the coin, so the less I concern myself with what every one else is doing, wants to do, or has done, and just focus on my home, MY space, those in MY family, the more I feel ready to make a choice, even when there are tensions (embrace them — they are all part of it, this little time here).

And when you make a choice, OWN IT. And when it seems obvious that you need to make a new choice, ADMIT IT. Be flexible, be tender with yourself and those around you, and be very careful to assume what you are doing is “RIGHT”. (hmmm, am I speaking to YOU or myself?!)

Until next time…

Got the funk these days, primarily with homeschooling and parenting. Such a whirlwind we have been through this last month or so and all that rhythm we were starting to create got sideswiped, yet again.

I’m out searching for some new (and/or old) info and thoughts and inspirations so I can get motivated towards SOMETHING besides grumpiness and fatigue and that familiar listless feeling that comes during times of recovery from life’s major upheavals.

It is really, really, really hard to be a full-time parent. I am missing the fun parts that seemed to come easier when Ethan was 0-3 years old. I capture the few seconds in a picture here and there, but they are way too few and far between lately and I feel abnormally guilty about that. So if you are the praying kind, I sure could use some. I’m seeking out support and encouragement as well. My motherhood journey feels overwhelming and my confidence dwindling.

I’ll close with this inspirational quote from the unschooling site:

“If you think you can’t provide a rich, stimulating environment for your kids, maybe they *are* better off in school. Send them.

But if you know that the whole wide world is rich and stimulating, then GET OUT THERE! DO things, BE with your kids. Find cool places to go. Bring new things home. Quit bitchin’!

If you knew you only had a year more with that child, what would you expose him to? Where would you go? What would you eat? What would you watch? What would you do?

If you had only ONE year—and then it was all over, what would you do? Four seasons. Twelve months. 365 days.

Do that THIS year. And the next.”

For the last month I have had my doubts about staying in the Ozarks. With the change of seasons, I’ve felt driven in my search for a “next place” that would have less Summer heat, humidity, and mosquitoes, (and with better soil). You know where all my research landed me? Right back where I started.

All the places I thought I might like better, upon further inspection, turned up similar or worse heats, humidities, and mosquito counts in the summer. And those that didn’t, well then your facing deep, long winters or some other trade-off – at the very least, land that is not in our price range (at. all.)

So many things to think about when your dream is to operate a sustainable mini-farm for the rest of your life

The Ozarks feature, among other things, beautiful rolling hills– very green this time of year. Driving out to Cave Springs to get my mother-in-law from the airport reminded me of that. There are many, many natural spaces we have yet to find time to go explore – so many rocks unturned. It would be silly of me to think we’ve been there, done that, with regard to NWA only 4 months in! Surely I have more sticktoitness than that?

I do miss the city life of Portland sometimes – the tea houses, yoga studios, parks, libraries, biking over the Broadway Bridge (PURE BLISS), or catching the MAX (though I always forget to think about the times I sat at a bus stop in tears of frustration and shivering from the cold because I missed the bus! lol) I also, of course, miss some dear friends I made there and the general vibe of the peer group and inner neighborhoods one could find community in.

Adjusting to a new place is hard, as we anticipated. Things don’t always go as smoothly as we hoped (like opening the waldorf-inspired playschool and having a less than idyllic relationship with my landlord as a result). But there’s a lot to be said for sticking things out, for staying put, and for making the best of where you are.

Sometimes the very things I am moaning about are the things bringing another person joy. The Ozark Homesteader was just writing about gardening in this heat, seeing it as a sort of detoxing season for sweating out impurities. I often come across, in my research for a “better place”, folks dreaming of a place with rolling hills, lakes and fireflies, and I’m reminded that indeed where I am can be any one’s “little slice of heaven” given a positive perspective (maybe even Pollyanna attitude) towards it (just as I did so love the misty rain of Portland that others not from there thought would be a major bummer). That’s why some love Maine, others Montana, others Georgia, others Alaska – I think you gotta soak up the good from where you are and find sustainable workarounds for the rest!

I think the bottom line, or a few of them, is that the region we are in offers the community of family and friends we were hoping for when sitting at our lonely Thanksgiving table in Portland, as well as the affordable land and scenic views we’ve dreamed about. The rest is just not that important.

Our mini-farm (my retirement plan, to be implemented within the next 9 years) is something I continue to learn more about and adjust to my particular area more and more as we recognize the need to stay put to realize our goals.

And many of you are like me – dreaming of the Someday House in the Someday Place living the Someday Life. And that’s all well and good, but know that so much can be done right where you are. From backyard gardens, chickens and beehives; to spending more time with family, writing, drawing, or singing; or learning to knit, make bread, or ferment Mead: many a learning experiences can be had before you are ever on that Someday Land.

Here’s to dreams and good ol’ fashioned contentment!