a day on the water

 * Thank goodness for friends who go to school and who don't mind taking a day off now and again to live a little ;)

* Thank goodness said friends have raft + gear + a papa who has raft guided more recently than 23 years ago. That is how long it has been for me : \ .

* Thank goodness for a warm, still, overcast day. Perfect rafting weather.

* Thank goodness I squeezed into my wetsuit, there certainly was quite a bit of doubt.

* Thank goodness for our family decision to say "yes" to interesting offers and/or new experiences no matter what else was planned or how long the "to do" list.

In my early adult years I spent a lot of time on the water, mostly in a kayak, sometimes in rafts.
These were very happy years, full of nature and friends and adventure on many levels.
I loved being back on the water today.
The splash of cool, freshwater on my face, the pull of the current, the slap of the waves.
The squeals and smiles on the girls faces were the bonuses.

We have arrived home and the girls have crashed.

I am about to join them.

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"

A.

Yesterday I wrote about the first part of our Autumn holiday. 

Today is about the more significant body of our time away - time that we spent with friends.

Friends at times seem to come unexpectedly into our lives. Like the best unexpected gift arriving in the mail - as you take off the wrapping you capture glimpses of colour or shape but what is found inside is utterly surprising and perfectly suited to what is exciting you right now.  

My dear friend A. is one of those gifts.

We met three years back at a camp held for families interested in natural learning. I drove a long way, not really knowing what I would find. I was a little nervous. I don't always know how to make connections with new people. My personality is generally warm and friendly and I am mostly brave when it comes to being in circumstances outside my comfort zone - I feel ok with being alone in a group - but sometimes I just don't really know what to say to people. 

I think this is a common feeling.

I remember A. as busy with three young children and friends she already knew. 

I also remember her directness and her inquisitive questions and immediately feeling at ease with her.  I relax with people who are warm but also direct - I open up and trust what I see. 

She spoke with the same warmth and clarity with her children, and mine.

She wasn't put off by the rain when we went for a walk with the children.

Her girls loved the dress ups we had brought and played with Ruby and Sky for hours.

Now she is a close friend.
We boated and swam and picked blueberries and cleared gorse and crafted dolls for the girls.
She fed us wonderful food.
The girls played.
With her I get to deeply share the joys and challenges of living fully right now with our children.
We can dream big, love deep and laugh out loud.
Doesn't friendship just fill you up and feel so good ..... and then have you missing them when it is time to return home.

while we were gone.

We have been away:

• celebrating turning 8.
• enjoying a touch of quiet to sew up a few treats for the birthday girl; a toilet bag for nights away and bonnets to continue on "The Little House" theme.
• sharing photos with grandma about "the olden days" when she was a girl.
• taking in a few museums having been starved of our locals in Christchurch since the quake in February.
• Running crying from the "Earthquake House" at Te Papa after deciding they would like feeling a pretend quake.
• Playing in snow and debating if snow had been seen there in the last 50 years.
• celebrating common ground with friends not seen in many years.
• Ruby taking in what she can of the TV world and declaring her new love is Masterchef!
• celebrating family with cousins, aunties and uncles and lots of time with grandma and grandad.

knowing my place.

For a while now I have been following a group in India who are working to shift people's thinking around learning, self-transformation and cultural change.

I get excited and am encouraged when I remember the bigger picture of what we do in our daily lives; cultural transformation happens one person, one family at a time.

Read and be inspired by some of the writing here.

This video about "transitioning from schooling societies to learning societies" was taken at the "2011 Learning Societies Conference" in Himachal Pradesh in India.

Wisdom and Salt Water from Priya Ravi on Vimeo.

At times it can feel quite lonely with the life choices we make; sometimes it feels like the rest of the world is pulling in the opposite direction.
And then I watch a video like this and remember that these conversations are happening all over the world and I remember immediately and know all over again that this is my place.
I couldn't be anywhere else.

simply together.

We are blessed to have friends who share their hut in the mountains with us.

We get away there when we can and with one thing and another we haven't been up nearly as much this year; we were well overdue.

We were rewarded with a good layer of snow on the ground and a decent slope with good run out just outside the front door.

Mostly we fill the small living space with boardgames, jigsaw puzzles, art materials and books and it has been known for the mama to hardly leave her sleeping bag on the shared bed.

This time around there was alot of general mooching as Sky got hit by our first cold this year and lay low most of the time - that is except when she ducked outside to make snow maidens and floral installations.

At the hut our choices are greatly limited.

We all love the simplicity.

Food is basic, clothes are practical, washing is in the river or in the water you have collected and our days are filled with relishing what is right in front of us; Rummikub, a cup of tea, another trip through "The Art Book for Children," a walk while the sun appears, hand grinding another coffee.

There is such freedom in limitation.

transitioning.

On holiday

Let's say it was a bit of a beachy holiday.

Searching for kaimoana.

Playing in the surf for hours.

Collecting treasures.

Dawn baths at hot water beach.

Back home.

Spot the difference?

Let's say, I'm taking a few days to get used to the temperature change.

Home Again

A trip to the farm in Spring always seems to be good medicine for the soul.

An abundant supply of good milk to drink only 10 metres from it's source.
The morning rhythm of walking up the cows, feeding the calf, milking the cow.

Walking the land and watching the sky.
And a perfect Spring afternoon at the beach with friends and the horses.

Other aspects of the trip were a bit of a strain but the land and the animals were where we started every morning.

Now

It's school holidays around here which means life runs pretty much as usual for us except that Papa and school kids are around to play with.
I've been running a Drama class for youngsters for the last 3 mornings. Fun, a bit of magic and loads of silliness.
Gunter has hardly been out of the garden and hasn't left the section. He's a natural potterer.

The girls and I are heading South early in the morning with another family.
We will be staying at a friend's farm for a few days.
We also want to check out some different breeds of chickens while down there. We have plans of getting our hands on some fertilised eggs, get a clutch of them under a local clucky hen and hatch some chicks this year.
We can't wait to have our own chooks again.

Emerging

It's been two weeks now that the girls and Gunter have been away from me and away from home.
Of course, the news is that the girls are having a ball, hardly stopping to eat, playing long and hard with their cousins and their adorable big brother. Gunter is deeply happy with seeing his three children together.
As for me, well, there are no two ways about it, the first week was hard. As though I was still physically present in my life but emotionally dislocated from it. Like I imagine a scaled down outer body experience is. But as it is with these things time passed and I am out the other side.

The decision to stay here was a difficult one to make but I knew deeply that it was the best choice for right now, not only financially but because of the opportunities that come from claiming some solitutde in the midst of full-time family life. We've had quite a few changes in recent years and here was a chance to take a long, deep breath. A chance for other threads in the weave to be picked up.
In the rush that is our world, there are few corners for this stillness to settle.
It feels deeply rejuvenating.
It allows a newness to emerge.

Flown the coop

They flew the coop early this morning.
I am off for a quiet weekend with friends who will help soothe my bewildered soul.
Food, wool, pencil, paper and walking shoes shared with laughter, lots of chatting and the vastness of the open sea.
I'm hoping this love of friends will remind me what a wonderful opportunity I have ahead of me and help me to feel connected once more, now that my anchors have departed.