I tell my children often that we get what we give. Give yourself to something you believe in with sincerity and enthusiasm, and the benefits will come back, often when we least expect it. I have tried to unschool this way. I have given my all to a learning paradigm that encouraged freedom, natural learning, and auto-didacticism. I have worked hard to gently and patiently file down my former assumptions and expectations about education, as well as adopted a parenting pathway that brought us peace, mutual respect, and a deeper sense of love for each other. It has been such a beautiful journey, and I believe so much in what we have experienced--- about living and learning, about following interests, joy and passion, about nonconformity and challenging the norm, about listening to our hearts and intuition, and about respecting and celebrating the individuals that we all are, exactly as we are now. These beliefs have not changed, but as we grew with these beliefs, we have inherently changed. And when we change, it is inevitable that our needs will change. And so it goes...
It's hard for an optimist like me to ever believe that perhaps my best, my all, would eventually not be enough. In the past I have always had success with hard work, though humility was never far away to remind me of my limitations. For me, humility's greatest tool has always been the element of surprise. Thankfully, reality and acceptance do eventually arrive to remind me that opportunities will only open if I find courage to let go, even if with all my heart I don't want to. I have told my children many times that when we open our eyes and open our minds, that our hearts can soon follow.
Open, again and again MJ.
So much has changed, our home and surroundings, new friends and new people, a different energy all together. And now, my unschooled children are back in school. This was not a sudden or quick decision. I knew the possibility existed, especially after
last year. Yet, I was so sure that learning at home with me was where my children belonged, that I just had to work a little harder to meet all their needs. And so I did. I devoted more of my time and energy into helping them find complete satisfaction. I committed myself fully, confident that together we could find a groove that worked for all of us.
There is no doubt the children gained from this. They gained a belief and a confidence in themselves that what is important to them is truly important to their parents. They have gained the courage to pursue those interests wholeheartedly, as well as communicate those interests with peers and adults alike. To see them blossom this way, having the confidence and initiative without needing permission or approval to be who they are, often inspired and encouraged me to continue in my efforts and resist old patterns of thinking----that learning should happen primarily in an institutionalized setting. But, as time passed, I began to feel imbalanced, and the less I did for myself, the more resentful I became. My children, especially my son who will be 10 soon, wanted more social interactions that despite my efforts I could not provide. They wanted more opportunities that allowed them to be independent, without my always having to find it for them. And me, I wanted more time to just relax and be more than just mom and wife. I want to be more creative, be healthier, and be more independent. My husband, seeing all of this unfold, began to encourage me to think outside of my own box of unschooling bliss, to consider that with all that the children have gained from being home with us for three years, a structured learning environment may look different now.
Though there are plenty of portals for guilt to rise in, resounding tapes that playback and claim that I haven't done enough, that I am a failure, that I give up too easily, I can squelch the tendency to berate myself and accept that in the grand scheme of things, everything always works out just fine--that all this energy we put into these types of decisions are greater in our mind than they are in reality. I have found relief in knowing that no matter what my children do, or what choices we make together, that they will always be okay. The trust I have in them is greater than my fear of the unknown, and this I gained from unschooling and will never change. I choose to rely upon their confidence and strength of spirit to find happiness and satisfaction. Our greatest asset is the grounding and open relationship we have with each other and they know that if things don't work out, we can make changes again. We are great creatures of adaptation and evolution and we have a part in creating the environment we need to thrive in, no matter where that is.
Meanwhile, I have also been reminded that if I am giving more than what keeps me whole and balanced, then what I am really giving is nothing. To lose myself in the needs of my children by sacrificing so much energy and eventually my confidence, to rub against the grain of personal fulfillment, does no one any good. It was a good effort to continue believing that I could make everything work, effort that I won't regret as I know I gave it my best. You get what you give, even though what comes back may not be in the package you expected.
To have believed that I had failed was wholly unfair to my children, and self-centered. When I truly *see* my children, I don't see failure, I don't see sadness, I don't see lack, I don't see anything but pure, unfiltered spirit and joy. I see two strong children with a keen sense of self, and a keen insight to what they want and need. These past three years changed our lives and has prepared us for the transitions we are going through now. The move into montessori school has been nearly seamless. When we walked on that campus for the first time together, the feelings were mutual and instant. It felt right. We all knew at the same time that this montessori school was theirs. The honesty of their emotions and their attitude about their new school environment has astounded me so far. E. loves his new school and everyday looks forward to going. M. is having fun, but doesn't like waking up early and feels that some of the rules are ridiculous (Lol, so true)! My priority now is to always be there and help them remember that it isn't about performance, comparing, or meeting anyone else's goals. It is about their love of learning, it is about doing our best, making friendships and enjoying their time there. It is about keeping our head, heart, and arms wide open :).
much love...
xoxo
I have felt this yaw before, arriving with the cool, subdued mornings, and the shifting shadows in the late afternoons. Summer is coming to an end and once again we alter our course for new beginnings. My absence in this space has only meant more presence in my daily life. Family visiting, a birthday for the boy, edible mushroom hunting in the woods, all of these things have begun to form the final bookend to this sanguine summer.
