structure in a child-led learning environment.

After a Summer with a full house (and lawn) of visitors, Gunter at home and a few trips away in the last month, the girls and I are craving for a bit of peace with our weekly rhythm and looking forward to sinking into the steadiness of the framework of our home days.

People often assume that because we cultivate a child-led path of learning that our days are unstructured.

'Structure' can be a bit of a loaded word, especially for those of us who identify themselves as being on the unschooling spectrum. People pull away from using it, assuming that it implies rigidity and is imposed from the top down. But structure in and of itself is not the baddy in the room. . For us who have chosen such a path of freedom, we may be afraid that a schedule may morph into mimicing or imposing on our days that which we have freed ourselves from: the stifling routine of school.
We forget that a structure can be designed, custom-made for us and in this way, serve our needs and desires.
Talk to your children, trust their lead and in doing so prevent rigidity. Watch and listen and then befriend some rhythm to your days if you or your children are craving some.

In a child-led learning environment the issue is not the existence of a structure but rather who designs it. 

Our framework is one we have co-created and flexes easily with the natural ebbs and flows of our full life. As well as it serving our individual needs (and not the other way around) it also serves the needs of the family as a whole: it supports our happiness and contentment and it supports us in our various learning pursuits.
It also punctuates our days with times to come together and times to move out by ourselves: times to rest and times to be busy.

Breath in.
Breath out.

We have always had a rhythm to ours days but over the last couple of years we have moved away from days brimming full of imaginary play, spontaneous art expression and stories, and moved deeper into intentional time to work on other self-chosen "projects." I have written a little about this here. 
This shift has paralleled their transition from young childhood into middle childhood.

For now, Ruby has decided that she wants a firmer schedule for herself. She has been asking for me for a while to wake her at 7am. I have been slow on the buy in as I treasure the early mornings for myself and for my quiet coffee with Gunter before he leaves for work.  
Then she has set herself 9am to get started on some more "formalised" learning that she wants to make progress on so that she then still has enough time in the day for lots of free play, her many other interests, friends and outings.
Progress on some more formalised learning? 
When exactly did Ruby become so goal-orientated?


My role in our partnership will be the same as it always has been: to support her ideas, remind her of what she had wanted to do, offer new directions, find resources, observe and help trouble-shoot. My role also includes being clear about what my needs are and making time to get those needs met. 

You can read about how I help co-create pathways here and here.

And so we will begin tomorrow: we look forward to it.
Our rhythm will keep evolving, a schedule may come and go. Sky will continue much  as she has done, Ruby has a chance to try out some of her new ideas and I will find time to write during the day.

It seems that the dreamy early years are over :) 

working at walking our talk

Teasing out and transforming my own limiting internal dialogue seems to be a fairly constant "friend" on this trip of whole-life learning. 

Choosing to live most of my days with my children since Ruby was born and commiting to a family culture of trust and respect has meant often being confronted by my own limiting beliefs. 

There is nothing like trying your best at raising your family respectfully for having your own limiting views and behaviours reflected straight back at you. 

Staying present and working at designing one's own life leaves little room for distraction from this work it seems.
Thankfully cultivating a culture of trust and respect extends also to the relationship I have with myself. 

 

You see I was socialised very well. 

With a mum raising her five daughters single-handedly, I internalised very quickly to be  a "good girl." I tried my best to please my mum and not add to the already hefty workload.
This skill transferred to bringing me early success at school but being motivated by wanting to be seen as a "good girl" doesn't make for strong foundations. My inner compass was trained outward towards others and this has made for habits that have been ultimately limiting to my own goals and dreams.

Even now in 2012 not many girls get through their childhoods without at least a little of that "good girl" stuff smeared on them.

The girls and I have talked about this "good girl" phenomena and early on I asked them to help me notice if that particular piece of empty praise ever passed my lips. 

It did. They reminded me. We laughed.
It was usually when I was tired.

We include the children in on these conversations all the time. We try to keep a light heart about our limiting beliefs and behaviours. Laughter helps us see them for what they are - old patterns that pop in unexpectedly like old friends now and again and need to be moved on out.
We make it clear we are not interested in them getting comfortable and staying for a while.
Well that's most of them anyway - there are always those persistent ones.

Gunter and I are wrestling with our limiting beliefs around earning money once again. We are committed to supporting other currencies as much as possible - our local timebank, bartering and the gift economy - but making money is still the task that imposes a hefty structure on our life.
I know, welcome to the real world:-)
What we are working at is imagining a more diverse income stream, a stream which is not so location dependent and one that can use some of my strengths as well as Gunter's. Don't get me wrong, I love and value the job I do with the girls but we would all love Gunter to be home more.
This feels like a far off dream (neither of us work in IT for instance ;-) but I've had this seed within me for as long as I can remember, I just need to figure out how to germinate it (and if you want some inspiration, go to this post at outsideways.)
This also goes hand-in-hand with our wish to be mortgage-free because while we deeply appreciate a sense of home, let's face it, mortgages suck whatever way you look at them. And so we wrestle with figuring out how to have a sense of home without a mortgage or paying someone else's mortgage, aka renting.

Each day we support the girls to follow their interests and take the work they choose seriously.

In the long-term we want their childhood to equip them with skills so that they can earn a living from their gifts. 

It is an important part of why we do what we do.
This of course, challenges us, the parents to do the same every day; to find a way to walk our talk and we love that.

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We are off to play for a week with friends. See you when we return.

a collection of thoughts.

Ruby's 9th birthday is a week away and recently I have found myself thinking of her a fair bit. We have spent a lot of time together over the years and have learnt to deeply understand and appreciate each other as people beyond the mama/daughter relationship.  Well, mostly that is :-). Living and learning, day in, day out, with the time, and a belief in the power of clear, compassionate communication, we have continued to grow together in love and respect . 

It may not have turned out so well - it hasn't always been as easy as it is right now. 

This reminds me of a comment I made on Lori's blog a couple of days ago- 

"This reminds me of myself and my daughter a couple of years back and our "first project." Ruby wanted to do fashion and make up. Read UGHH here. I personally rage against both- the whole young girl striving to look older, girls being overly interested in what they look like yada, yada, yada. But I knew I needed to honour her interest. I tell you it was hard but I decided to remain light and playful ("fake it till you make it" I figured.) 
The project didn't last long (phew for me :-), I relaxed when we starting making some lotions, we bumbled around - we were figuring out how to do this whole project thing. What I learnt is to respect her interests, the importance of her playing with her own ideas and me keeping my place as co-creator and not as "the one who knows what she should be learning." I also learnt about how she learns - that the fashion and make-up was deeply entwined with her dressing up and role playing, her exploring characters and story. Now I look back at this first project with fondness - in the end it had so little to do with the content and so much about the dynamics of how we do learning here at our place.

Early on as a Mama I chose to turn towards my children for the answers to my questions rather than trying to fit with others' solutions or standards; about parenting, about learning, about living well together. 

When they were babies the solutions seemed fairly clear most of the time; when they cried we gathered in close and attended to their need, when dealing with sickness, we were guided by observing the child not the thermometer (in fact we have never owned a thermometer).  

We did have a couple of detours when we thought others had the answers that we were looking for but  these soon became dead ends. Apart from just feeling wrong, they didn't deliver the silver bullet they promised. 

We gained confidence in trusting the girls in those early years and this made a life without school an obvious choice for us as a family. Not always easy nor without doubt at times, but still a comfortable fit.

I have needed all the time I have taken to become the mama that I wanted to be; to become the human being I want to be. 
A learning and life style that fits our family just right takes time to sculpt. The wrinkles of habit patterns and the knots of past hurts take time to disentangle and set free. The "shoulds" constantly need to be swept out the door. The hard edges of judgements (of myself and others, my children included) need sanding back at times. 
Compassion and patience need attention to grow and lots of practice. 
With such companions, trust takes hold.

This is all sounding a bit OTT in the psychology department to me right now but really, at 11.30 at night (and with a 5.30am start tomorrow), I just don't have time to go back and delete any of it. 
And really, it is how I feel on the cusp of being a mama to a 9 year old - an ordinary thing for many, an extraordinary thing for me right now.

settling into habit

Gunt and I have begun our morning yoga practice once again. 

Oh yes, hear a long sigh of having arrived. There has been a distinct ebb and flow to our practice over the last eight years. Mostly ebbing (and yes you would be right to calculate Ruby as being 8).

We both know that for us yoga practice is the key to feeling more alive in mind and body and we think it's a fairly necessary maintenance program now that we are comfortably in our forties.
I'm loving the very early morning starts - time to light the fire, take a peak at the stars, wash my face. Setting aside a generous amount of time has moved it from something I squeeze in between other morning tasks to being a valuable and rewarding part of my day deserving of a chunk of time all of it's own.

When I set aside a generous amount of time, I really begin to make progress on where I'm wanting to go.
I know, not rocket science.

So this has all got me thinking about the relationship between freedom and discipline. You could also try out the words freedom and structure or freedom and habit.
Often these ideas seem to be thrown into opposition. In some circles structure and habit may be perceived as suffocating to the creative spirit. Not here.

These qualities give form to the day and supports us to show up to work we want to be doing.
For me that may be getting to the yoga mat or writing a blog post, wrestling with finishing a sewing project (yes, wrestling is the perfect word) or planting seeds for the garden.
I see it the same way with the girls - the time that we gather together in the day means that we have dedicated this time to get to work on things they really want to get their teeth into.

At first we needed to persevere with committing to this time together, but now as we sink into this habit we reap the rewards of simply putting aside the time.

Lori from  Project-Based Homeschooling recently posted a quote about "protected time"(always check her comments for more conversation on the topic).
I really like this concept of protecting time.

Patricia from  Wonderfarm also wrote about "habit" a while back in her post "How we homeschool - good food for thought.

And Miranda from nurturedbylove wrote about unschooling and music practice a few years back which covers similar themes.

Well, yes, that little list is like a inventory of favourites. I acknowledge those writers who have gone before me and who have influenced my own thinking - how I appreciate my on-line community of thinkers.

So, what makes all the difference for us? I mean what makes this any different from the traditional ideas around structure and discipline and children.

The difference is this structure and discipline is not imposed from the outside, rather it is self designed. 

We co-create the structure, we negotiate if it needs changing and the self-discipline grows from reaping the rewards.
None of it is compulsory.
There are no extrinsic rewards or punishments.
There is quite simply learning about self-management and doing the work we love.

Indeed, we are all on this continuum. 

Here it is given time to grow, organically and with subtlety; patience grows with us and experience beds in the habit.

Importantly, alongside this "protected time" are great expanses of free time (a "protected time" also). Time for integrating, dreaming, synthesizing, rehearsing ideas or perhaps to be bored.
Flowing with whatever your heart desires.
Sometimes,  this might just be silence.

new directions

This last week has proved to us all the importance of staying flexible with the plan.
Life happens and when one understands that life is for learning then anything is possible.
The plan can act as a road map, but sometimes you just need to chuck the map aside and go off road.

A couple of weeks back the girls and I discussed a few possible paths forward for their current interests, one being portraiture and painting in general. Studying Georgia O'Keefe seemed a good plan as we have read a bit about her before and looked at her paintings. We also have some interest in studying bones right now and so have some specific subject material for her New Mexico phase.

So all was set......and then we visited a friend last weekend. In her lounge, a large painting of a female nude hangs on the wall - voluptuous and goddess-like. The painting immediately captured the girls' attention, drawn in by the subject, the colour, the lines, curves and shadows. They wanted to know how the painter had made her so life-like. 

They wanted to paint a body too.

Now I don't know anything much about the nude in art history nor do I know very much about techniques for drawing the figure (any tips in the comments greatly appreciated).

What I have learnt is to recognise when curiosity is sparked and interest is engaged and really listening to and tending this glowing tinder is the only way to truly respect our children as constant knowledge seekers* and competent learners.

This image of the child is a vital starting position without which we cannot fully take seriously their lead. We hold this image and are excited to follow their lead.

And so we are figure drawing and where best to start but with your own mama.
I realise this isn't for every mama. I'm ok with it.

In fact, the unexpected route bears surprising gifts - a chance to really study a real body, the challenge of translating the complexity of the human body onto paper, conversations on anatomy and more.
As we are all in new territory here, I emphasised staying playful and light as they began drawing.
So far they are excited by the process and ok with the results too. There is talk of sculpting a figure from clay further down the track and I'll suggest trying one with wire too. They are also keen to model themselves and so they will draw each other sometime.

With the girls directing their own learning at times it just feels like I fling a few books around, suggest possibilities, help set up and clear away and otherwise just keep up with the enthusiasm.
I'm ok with that too.

*This term I took from the Reggio approach.

to emerge

Last weekend while I was home alone, I also spent some time getting my head in order.  Often I see how we do child-led learning and daily life here as a dance which mirrors each of us as we organically evolve; spirally outwards and back in, collecting new knowledge and skills, integrating that with what is already known and making new connections on the way.

As mama and co-creator of our days, every now and again I need a stretch of time to gather my thoughts. Taking a seat on the sidelines, I reflect on where we have been and look ahead to where we might be going.

So last weekend I spent my mornings brainstorming possible pathways which the girls' interests might follow, noted questions still unanswered and tagged resources we might need to gather. I took most of the information from the two spiral bound notebooks in which I note down interests, questions and observations on a near daily basis ( I have written a little about these before here.) These notebooks (which, by the way, sometimes resemble an accumulation of scribbles on scraps of paper) hold the  reminders and inspiration from what has gone before. Trying to hold it all in my head just doesn't work for me :-)
These mindmaps I create I share with the girls. They make adjustments; add current ideas and cross-out pathways that no longer are interesting to them. I'm ok with that. Mostly they just get excited and want to get started.
The pathways that are left are a combination of new ideas and old ones that they want to dig deeper into. These pathways may last a day, a week, six months and possibly years.

Mushrooms continue to be a fascination for Sky. This began with a poster we were given by a friend and doing a little local foraging last autumn. She now has an ongoing collection of fungi she finds in our garden and on walks. We were given a glass terrarium that she now keeps these in and monitors their growth and health. She loves to draw and write and so,  as you can imagine documentation is everywhere.  This has also led to us researching growing mushrooms (intentionally) in the coming growing season.
I won't decide when Sky is done with this project, Sky will decide that for herself.

Portrait painting also became an interest for both girls over the last couple of months after being given a few prints by Frida Kahlo.  Sticking them on the wall above the dinner table we found ourselves talking a lot about what we saw, about Frida's life and about portraiture in general. We got some books out of the library and got to work on some portrait painting. They loved it and so we talked about studying other artists' work and techniques. Georgia O'Keefe will be first up since we already have a book with large prints of her work here. What I have discovered over the years is that I begin with what is easy so as to catch the enthusiasm and get things started. When we can we will also head to the library and find places to look at others' art for more inspiration(still no chch art gallery open yet due to the earthquakes).
And so, in this way, new pathways emerge.

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I have reactivated the "Good Connections" list over on the sidebar. Now and again I'll add some links that I think you might like too. Hopefully this will also lead to tidying up the sidebar in general. Cross fingers.

seeking solitude

I decided to come home a couple of days early on our recent trip away. In this season of my life, two days alone with long stretches of quiet is what I yearn for now and again. 

It doesn't happen often. I cherish it when it does. 

I walked through my daily tasks; simple meals, mostly salads (appreciating the lack of dishes salads produce), washing, stretching, tidying after myself - the pace of my days was deeply nourishing.

The mornings were frosty but by midday the sun was high enough to reach the garden and I was ready to venture outside.
I spent drifts of sweet uninterrupted time in the garden - such rewarding and deeply satisfying work.
Spreading compost and weeding, clearing ground and shifting dirt, all the time happily surprised at the abundance of life in the garden in the midst of winter. This discovery of life led to creating the terrerium a few days later with the girls.
Later in the day I let the chickens out of their run for an hour or two - an experiment I wanted to try considering the barren state of their run at this time of year. They enjoyed the freedom, the foraging and the dry dusty earth under the pittosporums.
I enjoyed their companionship.

In those couple of days I also did some geeking out on mathematics. That's the truth of it - this is how I chose to spend my time. I have been seeking a deeper understanding of the language of maths for a while now and exploring new ways to engage with it. I have written about this before here. I'm enjoying my discoveries and realise it is another one of those topics that is a post in itself.  For now though, let me just point you to the inspiring TED talk below to whet your appetite. Who would have thought crocheting held part of the solution to a deep mathematical mystery - not me nor my grandma that's for sure.

winter

A study into life in the depth of winter.
A study in death.
A study in bones.

A study in friendship and firelighting sans matches.

Furthering our study into crystals, and beauty and turangawaewae.

A study in the importance of ritual (and in courage!)

Where have we been for the last couple of weeks?

Studying how to live well in the midst of Winter.

Share, if you wish, what you have been studying. Of course, "studying" in the broadest sense of the word. We'd love to hear.

structure and freedom

We haven't been getting out much this last month. Winter has arrived, the section is soggy, the wood pile is quickly disappearing and I have been draining off the water tanks which obviously have far too little capacity.

The pull to stay inside next to the fire is winning over the pull to head out right now and yet the days are full, with projects and play, stories and investigation.

We usually have several lists on the go at any one time which help keep track of the current questions and plans and projects on the girls' minds.

I keep a spiral bound notebook for both the girls close by so I can jot down questions,  passions and some possible directions. These books are invariably jammed with scraps of paper that I have scribbled on during the day.

Now and again I also do a bit of a mind map of all the current interests whirring around our home; these are great to get things out of one's head and down on paper. These are all attempts at keeping in step with the dance of respectful, child-led learning.

Being intentional about supporting the girls to follow up on interests and plans is part of what I see as my job description; gently reminding them of yesterday's ideas, pulling relevant books from the shelf, making sure we are stocked with necessary materials. Not in a hovering-over-their-every-whim kind of way but supportive and useful.

This dance continues to evolve with the children. 

Mostly my intention has been to be present. Presence increases mindfulness and my ability to flex with my own wants and needs and those of the the children. And as they grow, these  change. 

When the girls were younger their days were anchored around the predictable rhythm of our days (early morning and bedtime rituals, mealtimes, naps etc). They spent their days playing by themselves, each other and alongside me. I'm not a sit-down-and-play-baby-activities-with-my-baby kind of mama - I'm not an entertainer (only sometimes when I have my clown suit on :-)). Rather I set up our home environment so opportunities were accessible and mostly got on with my day with them alongside me.

This shifted gradually but significantly around the time that Ruby turned seven. 

Her imaginary friends no longer were visiting daily and she had more definite plans of things she wanted to make and learn about. We kept track of these ideas and plans then too but didn't get far with making them happen. Ruby wanted to make and do some more challenging projects but was resistant to putting aside the time to make them happen. She seemed to be stepping outside her comfort zone and we needed to change something in our days to support this new direction. We took a while to find what would fit and then took the time to lay down the pattern of this new habit.

Now, on the mornings we are at home, we gather after breakfast to see where we are at with projects, check in with where help might be needed to figure out the next step or just get on with creating and/or investigating.
Yesterday this looked like:
> doing a few rows of weaving.
> pulling out the buttons and the cuisenaire rods to play with grouping numbers in different ways (out of the blue, Ruby decided she wants to make a start on multiplication)
> both working on a profile portrait (born out of  having had a couple of Fridas above our dining room table.
> checking out measuring angles on a protractor. Ruby was creating a periscope kitset of sorts for her cousin's birthday present and needed to clarify details.

We all like this new structure to our home days.
I like how the clear intention creates the space for us all to fully engage with paths we want to make progress on.  It reminds me (as I kickstart my yoga practice once again) that the structure/discipline/habit creates the path to where I'm wanting to go
I think Ruby likes being in charge and feels supported by the structure.
And Sky seems happy and engaged, full stop.
Rather than the structure running roughshod over the girls creativity, it reminds us to consciously engage with some of the projects we  have on the go and to take the next step, whatever that is.

bringing it inside

 We didn't manage to get far on our walk yesterday morning. By the time we had reached the saddle the cloud had engulfed us and the temperature had dropped significantly. We aren't interested in epics just yet; at this stage we are interested in building up a culture not testing the limits. So we headed out into the landscape without expectations of how far we would get, but rather taking cues from the girls and their comfort levels.

Sky and I did manage to find some treasures while out there, as we stopped for muffins and a warm drink. 

Today we got to bring them inside and let the microscope do it's magic. 

There were oohs and aahhs and WOW and even a pushy cue with just the 3 of us( 4 including Charlotte.)

Invoking wonder at the world right beneath our feet has just got to be foundational to appreciating the Earth we belong to and more specifically, the place where we live. 

Seems to me it just might be a beautiful way of growing caring and engaged young people.

We played with the focus and talked and imagined and drew in our journals.
We pondered the nature of the universe and the building blocks of life.

Under the microscope lichen transforms into a futuristic city, a radical skate park, a prehistoric forest and a poem. 

Stepping away from the microscope the humble lichen lays on the stage.

Green and coarse.

Silently holding a universe.

Endnote: To those who are feeling a little flat or despondent about life or if you are just in need of a small but significant lift in general:  borrow a microscope, scrape some lichen from where ever you can find some and prepare to be transformed.

some slippers

A few nights ago I contributed to an information evening about unschooling.
One of the participants talked about her struggle with the thought of letting go the reins of control over the direction of her children's learning. Her honest contribution to the conversation was invaluable - letting go is a fundamental place to begin in the process of trusting our children.
She wondered what she could do to prevent her from constantly stepping into the lead.
I suggested she take up a hobby.
I was serious.

I'm a very slow knitter but I do enjoy the meditation it brings me - I like the busyness of my hands and the quiet of my mind.
Knitting allows me to sit alongside Ruby and/or Sky with ease and quiet when they are working on something that may be challenging them. It supports me to be available to them and at the same time prevents me from becoming too focussed on what they are doing. It keeps me slightly detached so as I avoid jumping in with my own agenda and becoming frustrated and impatient. It is simple to lay down my needles to give them or the problem my complete attention and then to pick up the needles again when I am no longer needed.

I don't do much knitting but I enjoy it when I do.
Above are my indoor slippers I finished last night.
Wool from an old jersey which we unravelled and washed.
Leather from a skirt I bought at the local $2 second-hand clothing shop.
A simple flower from some scraps of felt.
I like how light they are and the fact that when I wear them I can still feel the floor under my feet.

Local friends

We have always been passionate about living locally: living our lives in the community in which we live (try saying that 5 times quickly:-)).  This has meant hanging out a lot right at our place and in the neighbourhood, getting involved with the local action, saying no to all sorts of "interesting opportunities" that would have us buzzing about in the car more and making friendships with children in the neighbourhood.

Local friends, what a blessing and an ever-increasingly rare treat in this very mobile, busy world.

Having local friends means freedom: freedom from cars, from organising in advance, from the hunger that comes from living in empty, lifeless communities and the freedom to roam the neighbourhood.

We also recognise our need to forge strong connnections with other children that are not defined by school. There is an ease and shared understanding in this special common ground.

The mix provides rich ground in which to grow.

A couple of nights ago, out of the blue 6 year old Sky looked up from her bed at the end of our night time story and asked when she was going to school. I was surprised and unsure of what she meant. Living her life free from institutions is how it has always been for her. She often exclaims out loud, "I love my life. I love homeschooling." I wondered where this question had come from.

She explained.

A very dear friend of hers who also goes to the local school had told her with great concern that she needed to go to school or else she would never learn anything. Nothing at all. I laughed out loud, relieved and amused. What ensued was rich conversation about what learning looks like and the fact that just because we don't catergorise and name all of our learning that certainly doesn't mean we aren't learning. 

Ruby was a step ahead and enjoyed deconstructing and playing with the myth that learning only happens in a classroom. She was having fun.

Sky looked excited and exclaimed, "Oh, yeah, kind of what we do every day. I can tell C. that," keen to reassure her friend.

Exactly. 

Thank goodness for friends.

a bit of this and that

Today it is storming. After such a settled and warm Autumn, it feels like one of those days where the season really turns the corner.

We have been slowing down and turning more inward as Autumn has progressed, gently our own rhythms reflecting the season. I am reading and crafting more now that the nights are longer and there is just less to do in the garden.

Can I share some words from others I have been reading recently to help me re-engage here in this space?

I'm on my third reading I think of  Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto and as always have been appreciating his clarity and vision of the bigger picture.

These are an example of the words that I drink in and feel nourished by:

" ..if we regained a hold on a philosophy that locates meaning where meaning is genuinely to be found - in families, in friends, in the passage of seasons, in nature, in simple ceremonies and rituals, in curiosity, generosity, compassion and service to others, in a decent independence and privacy, in all the free and inexpensive things out of which reall friends, and real communities are built - then we would be so self-sufficient we would not even need the material self-sufficiency which our global experts are so insistent we be concerned about."

It seems I just never tire of his words.

our community garden lunch 

Earlier this week I  also read this article, "We have Everything We Need Already: Community Control of Education" by Shilpa Jain, a learning activist with Shikshantar in India, an organisation  I have followed over the past few years. 

I want to share her words with you here simply because they resonate. 

If you have read here for a while you will know we are passionate about our local Timebank. Timebanks are perfect examples of how communities can access a deep well of skills and knowledge right in their own community; they are excellent examples of "having everything we need right now."

Just this week Ruby has been tutored in German by a neighbour, we have stacked firewood for another neighbour and we are about to contact an elderly gentleman this afternoon keen to share his love of classical music with the girls. Learning and sharing freely, multi-generational connections and a wealth of undiscovered gems right in your own neighbourhood. 

 On stage recently (nothing to do with barefoot running).

And then last night Gunter and I watched The Garbage Warrior again for I think the fourth time. 

Watch it if you haven't.  Mike Reynolds uplifts us. 

What has remained with me from this viewing is Mike criticising a culture in which "we have lost our freedom to fail" and about the necessity of both experimentation and failure to get us (as in individuals aswell as in humanity) to new places.  This was on my mind today.  

Gunter and I have been experimenting with barefoot running inspired by others in my community of bloggers. I might write about it sometime but anyway it is new and experimental and bringing unexpected discoveries. We went out in the rain today, slowly running in our barefeet. I thought about my freedom to experiment and fail as a woman passed us on the street. I felt my embarrassment as I imagined what she might be thinking and thought about how often it is that people don't try new things because of exactly this reason? As I let go and continued running in the rain along the muddy path in my barefeet, I embraced Mike's enthusiasm for experimentation, whatever the outcome. There is a feeling of freedom about it.

Thanks for allowing me to empty a bit of my brain out onto this page today. The house is finally warm and the girls have friends over - such a small house fills up fast. Gunter has begun preparing dinner and I'm off into the whirl of the pre-dinner clean up.

writing the story

Oh, the weekend.

These wild places are the places we want to be with the girls. 

We want these places to part of our family story; walking the vast landscapes and breathing in the big sky.  

We also want to learn what we can about the places that we go.

This weekend away for us was sandwiched between a trip to friends and a trip to family but sometimes you need to just say yes to opportunities and carve out the time that will help write that story.

Among other things (like the landscape and of the beauty and of the new species we met, all of which I find impossible to write about without a slightly ranting tone.) I'm excited all over again about The Kiwi Conservation Club (KCC) and the superb community resource for hands-on learning it provides to our families.

People sharing their knowledge and skills, organising activities, trips and speakers, chances to meet new families and everything with the barest cost attached.

Without this KCC trip, we might never have gone to these places nor have learnt all that we did about the place and those that live there in the streams, under rocks and in the air.

Building active learning communities depend on this culture of sharing and volunteering for the common good.

It feels good to be part of it.

Sunday morning Sky walked with me along the upper reaches of the Rangitata river. She was barefoot, her arms held out, palms upward. She looked at around and said;
"Now we are here we don't have to do anything. I just love being here and walking on the dirt and seeing everything. It's beautiful. Just reeeeeally beautiful"