“It’s on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.” — Claude Monet
Watching my children — really paying attention to them at play — is one of my greatest joys.
I’m listening to May Erlewine’s newly released album “Mother Lion.” It’s amazing. I could listen to it over and over again.
“I want the dawn to break me open.
I want to breathe and be unbroken.
I want it to take a while.
I want to be wild.”
I love how May sings through the contradictions and vulnerabilities that we live with every day. Thank you for putting your music into the world, May.
Main lesson today on Seed Dispersal.
Wallace ate crackers and dried cherries on my lap while we read from a few books.
Wallace threw sticks in the fire pit while we collected seeds.
Wallace stood up at the kitchen sink on a chair, while we made charts in our books, and dumped water all over the carrots, himself, and the floor.
Wallace is throughly enjoying homeschooling so far this year!
I feeling so grateful for “Exploring Nature with Children” this week — a simple curriculum that guided us into learning about seed dispersal and gave purpose to our morning lesson during a time when I’m having a hard time finding the energy I would like to devote to our homeschooling. Taking an overhead photo was a way for me to capture and save a moment of beauty in the midst of a lot of challenge and chaos. I share this because it gives me hope and reminds me how resilient we are when surrounded by support. Seeds of hope.
In early July, after explaining to the girls about how to “properly” seed carrots, I planted the seeds in my own rows way too close together. And now there are more carrots growing in this bed than could ever possibly thrive. I already thinned them once, and this morning I thinned them again. I asked Amabel to come take a photo of me as I was working because I was having deep thoughts in the garden about how I need to practice thinning in more areas of my life — not just in the carrot patch.
Wallace entered in the scene and the resulting photo was much better than the serious one I had in mind.
She took me down the big pine hill to the edge of the woods where she’d found an old gnarled apple tree. The apples were beautiful, delicious, and surprisingly blemish free. We gathered them together and I told her that my favorite apples come from trees that are wild.
This bounty kept us busy all day long!
this afternoon at the table —
the table around which so much centers:
family meals, conversations,
stories, questions, projects, colors, abundance . . .
Our couch may be tattered
and our table may be worn,
but we are here living together
with our hearts open
and our eyes filled with wonder.
He calls this: “King!”
“It is play, not properness, that is the central artery, the core, the brain stem of creative life. The impulse to play is an instinct. No play, no creative life. Be good, no creative life. Sit still, no creative life.”
— “Woman Who Run with the Wolves” by Clarissa Pinkola Estes: Ballantine Books, 1992: p. 234.