Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘growth’

And so here you are led.  Serendipity.  If you are reading this I have a message for you.  The message was for myself as well, and so I share it with you.

 

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”

Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

 

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Time passes as it does and the Wolfpack has come to develop a new rhythm together.  Little Bear has added a joy to our lives that we never knew existed.  My big boys, Eagle Boy and Little Fox are so smitten with him.  They take him in under their growing wings and tails and nurture him, hug and love him.  They feed him, play with him, and carry him.  Our hearts are wide open to him.

It makes me think of the Amish saying that to love is to know suffering, but it’s worth it.  Someone I knew closely for a little while dropped their physical robe this week.  My higher self understands that death is normal and natural and that we are eternal.  My lower self is quite selfish and sad that we have to let those people go.  So, I sit in the middle with both feelings.  It has been a while since I have had to let someone close to me go.  I think of the ones around me that I have great attachments to, like my family.  Also, I am reminded of my own mortality and aging.  I don’t mind aging.  There is so much to learn.  But one day my parents will pass.  My grandparents already have lifted the veil themselves and are free in the spirit world.  They have been released.  But one day it will be me.  To ponder over that is very hard and a little uncomfortable.  I believe life is very holy, because we have breath. I believe we are holy people and have the opportunity to have the holy spirit infuse us daily.  To understand the many languages and cultures of the world, especially with the world wide web connecting us across time and space.

So in the spirit of slow-living and being intentional I give thanks to Creator.  I give thanks that I had no idea what I was doing but Creator led me.  In fact, I had enough trust and faith to listen, to walk the path.  I allowed my Self to walk backwards across time and space and heal, so that I could move forward.  And I speak in a deeper way, a way that leads one across many realms and lives.  A Way where karma is lifted, and new intentions are born.  My ancestors, or as Eagle Boy says Grancesters led the way for me, and my family served as an anchor.

I know I am hard on myself at times and have had to learn a lot about self-love.  But I will say that despite any negative self-talk I have been good about following my intution this past decade or so.  I followed my intuition when I saw my husband Strong Heart.  I knew Creator was speaking to me above the loud noises of this realm.  He is the One for me, and I am the One for him.  And then over the years I listened and heard the Song of my first son, Eagle Boy.  He sang to me and I sang to him, and then he came to be with us. Little Fox, quiet and sweet, slipped here to this earth to a family he knew he loved.  He could see us from the spiritual realm and knew we all belonged.  Then, came several years of release and growth.  I was not ready to welcome another spirit earthside until I released and purified my spirit.  But, those days of inner work came and went, and Little Bear sang his song to my heart.

So, I know all of this is worth it, even though we suffer as well when we lose someone we love.  I just hope there are many many moons filled with as much joy as the joy we know now.  I do not want to suffer, but sorrow comes anyway, because it is part of the human journey.  Until then, I will be intentional to the best of my imperfect ability to love with a heart wide open, and to be teachable. I am learning that stories are eternal.  They connect us and are even more powerful than we understand.  Stories seek me out.  I seek out stories.  We are finding each other.

Please say a prayer of celebration for the one who I knew.  She has passed, no longer suffering, but her loved ones remain with their sorrow.  We celebrate her, and we each do that in our own way.

Read Full Post »

2014!  With plenty of preparation work for two years, life has been like a spool of neat thread unwinding itself and revealing what is being made. Cedar blessed us with his arrival last October 2013, and we settled deeply into dreaming and planning, as we do in winter.  Slow.  Winter.  Good.  We had enough inner light to burn our way through the darkness of the cold season until Spring.  For most homeschooling families February is a transition month.  Cabin fever.  Spring wants so badly to arrive, but Jack Frost sometimes lingers and the roots are reluctant to send the energy upward.  The Light is yearning to unite fires within us again encouraging springs in our step, curls at our mouth and early spring morns on the porch with breakfast.

Preparing for Third and First Grade has been a lot of fun.  I have enjoyed deeper spiritual learning with our main lesson of the Old Testament and Grimm’s Fairy Tales, with the archetypes.  I keep in mind specific goals set for each child.  Movement is always at the top of the list, rhythm and anchor times equally important.  I feel blessed to observe, pray and listen for each child.  Listening to Creator brought me insight to adding more music this year assisting the nine year change and seven year change as well as transitioning our little nursling with us through the day.

For our Native American block the boys have deep roots and some live education with Elders from the Hopi and Choctaw people.  As their parents we have spent time doing our inner work with the encouragement of these Elders, their ceremonies and wisdom.  All of that has carried over into our daily work. We have some unique teachings to bring to them.  We also provide Buddhist, Sufi and Christian teachings.  I think it is important to recognize the Ascended and Holy Peoples and to make available a universal language.  It’s all about communication and connection, whether you prefer psychic or prose.

Music.  Our circle time music has been our own songs that inspire us, and the Summer Songs from Music Together, which is Cedar’s baby music class playlist.  My big boys are helpers in the music class and I see them getting so much out of the experience.  For one week we spent time at the lovely First Christian Church Music Camp, in my hometown.  I adored the music teacher and the kids.  They worked hard with a tight schedule to really learn alot.  I am impressed at the growth and stretching they had to endure.  I felt I could See the transformation of their hearts and throat chakras.  Flowing.  Singing is magical for many reasons.  The breath of Creator is at work.

Movement.  I have been spending time with the boys this year learning about stretching the body and becoming more aware of their spiritual vehicles.  Everything is sensory.  Stress can be useful but also dangerous, so we have spoke some about how important drinking water, taking salt baths, regular bedtimes, clean foods, and movement can help assist our sensory experiences. Creator wants to come through us and touch all the materially dense richness.  The earth.  The wind.  The warmth of a hug.  The cool water that flows down our throats.  Thankfully we have added new elements to our movement apparatus, like a slackline and trampoline.  Existing equipment includes a zip line, 4 acres to run and bike.  Trees to climb.  Porches to swing upon, especially when it rains.  Wood to chop.  Fires to jump.  Critters to feed. Free play.  My boys do not lack for play time and joint compression.  They are very creative and I have always nurtured and assisted that play with props, dolls, action figures, furniture, lighting, wall paint color, board games and card games.  Natural materials are preferred but we possess some vintage classic toys.  I do see the difference in feeling the materials personally.  Plastic is cold.

Handwork.  Handwork is many things.  A nine month old baby is handwork as a nursling.  My handwork.  Handwork to the boys is taking care of their room, arranging a shelf or an altar.  Brushing their teeth.  Learning to knit a row. Taking blocks out and putting blocks away.  Chopping wood.  Whittling a stick. Modeling with mud, clay or dough.  Sanding or polishing.  Sewing.  Picking up baby brother and helping him explore.

Watercolors and Wet-on-wet.  I’m trying.  A couple years ago I presented the color wheel teachings to the boys.  I am revisiting watercolors again, the brushes, the feel.  I have Painting With Children by Brunhild Muller, and the Waldorf Painting Education binder.  IT’S HUGE, and I haven’t made it all the way through.  I struggle with building scenes and I always add too much water!  I am a work in progress.

Drawing.  Chalk drawings and practice drawing have become staples in our process.  We ingest the stories of each grade that are developmentally appropriate, draw and retell the stories.  Some we love and some we take in and think maybe work is being done on us in the night by the angels who know better than we do.

Angels.  Archangels.  Archai.  This is truly a personal relationship.  We each have one for ourselves, as a group, the community, the earth and so on.  Many times I go to the angels when I am struggling.  But I do see them in the everyday, like when Cedar discovers his own voice.  Or when River smiles at me shyly, and how he always nurtures me.  Wolfsion, he champions as a helper to me and the land.  He’s a steward.  A trailblazer.

Waldorf Essentails curriculum, Melisa Neilsen homeschool teacher trainer and consultant, the Thinking, Feeling, Willing group of women on Facebook and my own spiritual path have been critical.  Aside from doing a lot of listening to my Maker I try to keep my influence minimal or I can easily get distracted.  I find that continual purification of the mental, emotional, physical and spiritual intelligences are absolute for the path. Each of us have a process.  Recently, I disconnected from the grid for a couple of months and the time away really energized me, renewed me and helped me ground into my present life.  We discover this as our intuition, the angels, our children and our own paths merge.  It is also when we decide to manifest and come in tune with our soul that our Path becomes clear.

Rhythm.  I need structure, but love the permission to unfold freely within that structure.  Like the earth and the water flowing through and around.  I allow space for the kids to unschool themselves with my guidance also.  There are some days where that is absolutely called for.  At some point I may share a photo of our schedule, it comforts me and transforms through the year, as we school (a)round the wheel.  In and out breaths as the masters speak of in early childhood with anchor times, sleep, play, handwork and meaningful work are so very important.  They are important to me as the teacher and as a human in grounding to this earthly experience.  Life is intensive, but it all depends on how committed one is to the process and the path chosen.  I am working on my Calling and Mission and that changes as the faces and places change, but the sanctuary and the familiarity of home remains.

Farm and home.  For us this block blends nicely with our geographic location of Kentucky.  Bodies of water with as much shoreline as Alaska.  Rolling hills and knobs.  Bluegrass.  Large and small scale agriculture.  Farmer Boy, by Laura Ingalls Wilder is a good Wednesday read, coupled with our nature-farm jounral.  The boys draw pictures, write summaries and include math measurements or calculations to describe their work.  We raise a few chickens, a turkey and a rabbit with a cat and two dogs, along with a children’s garden.  That proves to be plenty of work for us.

Cursive has been pleasant and enjoyable.  I liken it to form drawing, so we do it two times a week.  After bringing forth the letters, we are now practicing cursive words and seasonal verses.

Early childhood is surfacing again with Cedar on the scene.  I am having things click for me that we did not have time for before.  The stories are becoming a part of me.  I have more of my planning together and props available.  I am slower, more mature.  Patient.  I imagine this comes with any teacher or parent.  The settling in.  It is comfortable and exciting.  The journey.  The Great Mystery ahead.  As time goes on I really note that honoring myself and honoring my family and friends is also loving myself.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  Most importantly my lessons have come from making mistakes or as the Elder’s say “learning.”  I realize when I am having a hard time it is due to the level of love I have for myself.  [HUGE!]

Admist the birth of our baby and a new school year we have also birthed our own family business that has grown over the last 12 years of hard work, and we will be celebrating our one year anniversary as Cedar turns one in October.  I am so proud of my husband for his work ethic, his talent and his ability to (at least) appear like he has left his work stress at the door.  When he enters the house, he gives us himself, which is a gift.  Check out http://www.coydogstudios.com or visit us on Facebook at Coydog Studios.  We are also on Instagram Coydog_Studios and Twitter.

Thank you for reading.  There will be more to come, as I find time.  Development, the grades and the spiritual nature of our process is important and it is yearning to find it’s way out of me and into words.  In the meantime visit me over at Pinterest as Nurturing Spirit and on Instagram as Healingoneself

 

xoxo

Read Full Post »

As I sit here, I am breathing deep and looking out my window at the abundance of Queen Anne Lace recapturing my back field.  The humidity has left for the day, although the summer has been quite mild.  My husband is reading a book with two of our three lads.  And I am astounded at all that has transpired.

Growth.

So many changes.  We have placed our attention firmly on certain dreams and visions and here they be.  A summer is usually filled with sweat, either from the sweat of play or the sweat of work.  And so is growth.  To grow there is a combination of struggle and stretch.  Growing pains.  Sometimes they are mild.

Reflection.

It’s not time to reflect on summer yet.  I could say the summer has been mild.  But then Coyote, The Trickster would rear his pretty face and bite me deeply.  Although for some reason I am feeling very introspective.  Reflective.

Weaving.

A story, the days string together to create our lives.  I am learning with all things that if [IT] is important I will get to it.  I tap the web to connect with all that needs connecting.  I bring together and create learning experiences for my littles.

Accept.

The things that I cannot control.  The undoing.  The birth.  The pains no one sees.  The quiet darkness and the soft loneliness.  The One.

Healing.

This is when it comes.  When the moon shines but is not seen.  When the frogs chirrup.  The in between.

The book is done.  The night has come.  And this summer night is put to rest.  Amid the giggles and tiny cries our “little death” will bring a new sunrise.

aho.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: