Article referenced in video,How I Learned my 1st Chess Openings
We just completed our 4th year in Classical Conversations, now at our third campus. There is a great amount of variety in atmosphere and “personality” between the different campuses we’ve attended. I feel very fortunate to have had the chance to observe so many wonderful tutors teaching the same material, each with their own tricks for making it fun and clear for the students. While I don’t agree with 100% of the material chosen (like, why don’t the maps have BLUE water?) or even 100% of the philosophy behind the development, it has been a very good fit, and I can adapt things for my own children where I see fit.
In the years since attending with my children, I have learned more about the process of learning itself than I learned in high school, college, and then graduate school. I have learned how to break things down and teach the grammar of subjects. I have learned how to teach, and how to learn. Being a co-student with my children has helped me become a better teacher. This was my first year tutoring Foundations, and I learned as much if not more than my students.
In addition we’ve made some wonderful friends, both my children and I. The ladies (and a couple of gentlemen) that homeschool with us are interesting, intelligent, thoughtful people. They care about their children and mine. I’ve needed help the past few weeks, dealing with a shoulder injury, and other moms have watched my kids, washed my dishes, and brought me dinner. The outpouring of support and love has been very encouraging. Fellow tutors have written my boards for me, students have carried my heavy bins, and in general, I need only to ask to receive help from friends.
We will continue with Classical Conversations next year. My eldest has moved into the Essentials program, which I will be tutoring. I’m looking forward to continuing to grow as an educator, student, and person.
I’ve had the quote, “Forever is composed of nows” on my fridge for a while, and look at it several times a day, wondering what on earth it means. It resonated with me and was beautiful, so I wrote it down and have been mediating on it during short periods in my day. I finally looked up the full poem by Emily Dickinson, and here it is:
Forever – is composed of Nows – (690)
Forever – is composed of Nows –‘Tis not a different time –Except for Infiniteness –And Latitude of Home –From this – experienced Here –Remove the Dates – to These –Let Months dissolve in further Months –And Years – exhale in Years –Without Debate – or Pause –Or Celebrated Days –No different Our Years would beFrom Anno Dominies –
As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.
As a mom and a homeschooler, it is practically impossible not to fantasize about the future, when I imagine life will be easier. First, I looked eagerly forward to potty training being complete. Now, I look forward to Teddy Bear learning how to read, so that he can be more independent in his learning. It is very hard for me not to look forward.
I’ve recently been reading about a fascinating philosophy called “wabi-sabi.” I love it’s idea of embracing imperfection. You can read more about it here. Although I’m sure I’m bastardizing it, I have read it and interpret it to mean a kind of humble respect for those things that are imperfect and worn though a natural aging. The asymetrical flower bed, the rough hewn table, the thread-bare sweater that you love…those are wabi-sabi.
However, as I run and walk and meditate my way around my very precious time alone…I begin to think about the things that wabi-sabi is not…those things which are very real and very important to me. Those broken, imperfect, and not artistically interesting things.
Most people have broken places, parts of their soul and mind that are not whole. How do we mend these parts, and prepare them for public showing?
In Kintsugi, another philosophy, breakage and repair are viewed as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise. Broken pottery may be mended with gold, to indicate that the broken-ness makes the item more valuable…the break itself the most interesting part of the piece.
This is the very perfection of a man, to find out his own imperfections.Saint Augustine
If you want new… go to Target. If you want an interesting, complex, real person….with layers and a lifetime full of stories and experience, find a person with gold in the place of their broken places. Maybe they won’t be stronger…because they haven’t been mended with steel. But more precious, more fragile, more worthy of your time and interest and effort.
It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.
I used to be inspired by humanity’s pursuit of perfection. Transcendentalism, minimalism, clean eating, paleo, local, hand-made…etc.
Now I am continually horrified at the pressure we put on ourselves and others to be perfect. Heres a funny video about this issue in parenting:
Major takeaway- someday you too will dump a salad in your purse!
Maybe not- but I would like to share my experience with battling perfectionism in homeschooling, mothering, and living. Before Princess Sophia, our first, was born, we swore to never let her near screens of any sort. We swore she’d never use a pacifier. We thought that we were better parents than that…We thought….well….we were wrong.
One day soon after becoming parents, we realized our may failings with a heavy burden of shame. Sophia loved her pacifier. We were too exhausted to do anything in the evenings other than watch televisions, and our lives revolved around our children. It was very unglamorous. It was not what we had aspired too. Imagine attending an artist reception for your best friend after having traveled for hours only to excuse yourself to breast pump. Parenting was not meeting my expectations.
And for that matter, I was not meeting my exception.
I didn’t make all the baby food. We didn’t sit down at the table for dinner and practice our use of specialised silverware and napkins. They weren’t learning ettiquette from our dinners. We weren’t modeling police discussions. Instead, we disagreed about grocery lists and other minutiae. I had failed to be perfect and it weighted heavily on me.
So I quit.
I embraced imperfection.
I let the kids eat instant macaroni and cheese while watching television. Not educational, enriching programs…total junk
And I felt…relieved. Safe. Okay. I had given up the idea that I could eve be perfect. No one can ever be perfect. My body is not perfect. My home is not perfect. My marriage is not perfect. My children are not perfect. And this is all okay. Liberating, in fact. I am allowed to be me. Beautifully, authentically, imperfectly, me. And so are you. Give yourself permission to live, love, make mistakes, be human, be lazy, and be real. You may actually do your children good by demonstrating that no one is perfect. Your children may learn that perfection is not necessary to deserve love. You are gauranteed to do good for your children by doing these things for yourself.
When I need a break, I let the kids watch TV. I let them make messes. If they bother me, I order them away or task them. It works with husbands, too. I hide in the kitchen with an iPad or computer and pretend to be busy wiping the counters when interrupted…(shhh! Don’t ruin my cover!)
I’d like to extend this forgiveness of imperfection to other things. Nail biting, an affinity for candy, celebrity gossip, and other mostly harmless but very real imperfections. What would happen if we accepted these flaws? Who would suffer? Could anyone ever suffer as much as we do, trying to make ourselves perfect for our families? So much of our perfectionist tendencies are in our minds. I see pictures of myself from years where I thought I was too fat, too thin, too…whatever. I see now that I was just right.
My daughter overheard me complaining about my body, although I try not to spread my body disapproval around. She told me that “for my job, my body was just right.” I asked her to clarify, and she explained that if I “was a supermodel” I would need to be more thin. But “for a mommy, you are just right.” She expressed concern that I would become too thin to cuddle! Because, “mommies should be soft.” Now, in my case, mommies are also ill-informed on world events, and often clumsy…maybe those are in the job description as well.
For today, I’ve decided to think that I’m good enough. For today, you are good enough, too.
(This post isn’t everything I want it to be. I’ll share it, anyways.)
Anyone with young children right now will have seen, or heard, or have sang numerous times the song “Let it Go” from Frozen. Essentially, the Princess finally stops holding her emotions in and is free. I have been using the song in a different way, to diffuse my negative reactions to the every day frustrations that I encounter. It’s probably more similar to the Seinfeld character that screams “Serentity NOW!” when aggravated.
I had a rough week. Hormones and general anxiety conspired to make me a rabid bitch, and life provided me with plenty of opportunities to exercise my bitchiness. During all this, I discovered something very valuable. When, I get angry at a customer service person, contractor, insurance company, my adrenaline and blood pressure stay up for hours, sometimes days. I don’t sleep well. My mental health basically suffers much more than any possible gain from the confrontation. I become the picture of a miserable person, wallowing in my anger and resentment, unable to move on. Yes, there are frustrations in modern life. The barber who butchers my son’s hair cut, the doctors office that bills incorrectly, the person who parks at the very bottom of your drive way….
But in the end, I didn’t have to wake up this morning and walk 8 miles to carry clean drinking water home on my head. I don’t have to put my children to bed hungry. Losing my cool over minor frustrations is not only bad for me physically and mentally, but fails to help me grow spiritually. The inability to forgive, exercise my patience and tolerance, and recognize the humanity in those who annoy me connotes a sort of spiritual poverty that many in the otherwise wealthy, industrialized world suffer from.
Possession of material riches, without inner peace, is like dying of thirst while bathing in a lake.
If material poverty is to be avoided, spiritual poverty is to be abhorred. For it is spiritual poverty, not material lack, that lies at the core of all human suffering.
~ Paramahansa Yogananda
When I have these frustrating interactions with people, it is helpful to imagine myself in their shoes. Failing that, I try to imagine a situation where I would feel compassion for them instead of anger. Now, these situations might be merely fantasy, but they are helpful to me. For example, the aggressive driver who cuts me off in traffic may be on the way to the hospital for an emergency. The child who is mean to my child at the playground may have a developmental delay, the lady cutting my son’s hair is learning a new professional after leaving an abusive relationship. Now, these things are probably not what is really going on, but certainly every person has trials and crosses to bear. I can’t possibly know what those are, but these imaginary scenarios help me feel compassionate. It backs me away from my anger.
In the end, if I can be a better version of myself, that might be the best thing I can do for the world. Yes, digging wells and working for peace and donating to good causes is all important, but if we can’t love one another, we’re all in for a much rougher ride than necessary. I can go to church every week, and still be an asshole to the waitress that serves me after Mass. Does that make me a good person? Don’t love humanity in general and be awful to individual people.
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.
I think we can all use a little reminder of this every so often. I don’t need to fight every war that invites me. I don’t have to engage every person or issue that I come across. I know that some people will feel strongly about engaging those who make offensive remarks in person or on social media. For me, I need to stay out of the skirmishes in the comments sections. I honestly don’t think it does any good and certainly isn’t going to change anyone’s mind about another persons’ position. The only thing that will change someone’s mind is a relationship…but that’s another post for another day.
“I don’t know.” Three little words that the majority of the world seems unwilling to utter. I have been trapped in a quagmire of indecision. This is indecision about big, life-altering things. I’ve been thinking about re-entering the work world and putting my kids in a local private school, instead of homeschooling. Don’t get me wrong, I still LOVE LOVE homeschool. I think it can be done really well. I know my kids are thriving. However, sometimes I don’t feel like I am doing very well. As the kids get older, and easier, I find myself getting bored more frequently. However, there’s still the constant sludge through daily work. Sometimes I fantasize about someone else taking care of my kids while I get to wear dressy clothes in an office full of adults. I’m not saying working moms have it easier, and I really don’t want to launch one of those wars. I just wonder if it wouldn’t be better for my mental health to get out of the house and into the wider world of adults.
Almost on a whim, I applied to a couple of jobs at my alma mater, which happens to be a 10 minute walk away. I haven’t heard anything yet, and wonder how I will respond if offered a job. It would mean putting my kids into (very good) private school down the road. It would mean big changes. I’m worried about how the new work schedule and school schedule would affect our families travels and adventures. Freedom in our schedule for travel has always been one of our reasons for homeschooling. Also, the classical model of education, the inclusion of Latin (which the school down the street does not have) and plenty of free time for nature and play for my little guy, who needs the outlet for his enthusiasm.
The additional income would take a burden off my husbands shoulder’s. He is a full time PhD student and money is tight and will get tighter before he finishes. My daughter is worried about being able to attend her many activities. Not the least of which is her lovely Girl Scout troop composed entirely of homeschoolers. They meet during school hours and she would not be able to continue.
Soooooo…..as I talk to people about this, it becomes murkier and muddier. I honestly don’t know which path is right, or even which one I prefer. Right now, I’m trying to keep my foot in both doors to keep them open while I wait, and think, and breathe.
In some ways I am very privileged to be able to make choices in my life. So many people have to take whatever work is available. Others don’t have the choice to stay home. Both of my options look appealing to me, for different reasons, and I’m sure that whatever decision I make, there will be days where I wish I had made the opposite choice.
Mistakes are the portals of discovery.James Joyce
But I’m not afraid of failure. I’m not afraid of being wrong. I’m not afraid of rethinking things and making changes when something doesn’t work. I’m not afraid to admit mistakes. Those qualities have led me to some of my most proud accomplishments. A wonderful friend once told me I was allowed to change my mind. Whatever happens, I’m sure I’ll be revisiting my choice in another 6 months, wondering if I should continue on my current path. I choose to believe that this make me brave, not indecisive.
Being at ease with not knowing is crucial for answers to come to you.Eckhart Tolle