returning

This February my two youngest children, boys in grades 11 and 12, entered brick and mortar high school and I am no longer a homeschooling mom. My life as I have lived it for the past 16 years has come to its natural end. We have lived fully and deeply; the transition to this phase of our lives has been ...lurchy. But we are finding our footing. 

If I liken our schooling years to a race, I am the marathon runner who stumbled across the line completely spent and needed help to get up. I have since moved from the critical first aid station to the convalescence home. I am encouraged by the days when I have the energy to look around and visit with those who come across my path, but I rarely go looking and when I do it's mostly just to the path outside the home. Crossing the street is still too much. I'll wave at you but will turn back to my bench in the sun or couch looking out at the rain.

So for now, my life is being lived closer to home. Instead of the focus being on what is best for my children's education, I am able to consider my own health and well being. The difficult days are less frequent. I can usually "do something" two days in a row now, although the third is often a flat, slow day and I plan those days of activity carefully. More than that scares me because I know what the next days will be like. (And by "doing" I mean one activity: one yoga class, one grocery shop, one visit with a friend.) I still prefer days at home. I am learning some amazing things about myself, the world around me, and am finding joy and passions that are deeply satisfying. 

I am in no hurry to leave this bench. I have completed and succeeded in my marathon. My recovery time will be a while yet, my next races nothing more than vague thoughts, except that I will plan and run them differently. If you see me, know that I'd love some company. I can encourage you in your race. I can sit quietly and let you catch your breath. I can listen to your dreams. But it's up to you to stop. I can't, and won't, make you notice me.

a time to reflect

I have spent the last 14 years teaching my children in the Charlotte Mason style. I have read and read and read: to myself, to them, for us and for others. I have guided, taught, learned alongside them and been deeply moved through it all. I see the results in them and in myself in subtle, deep ways that have become the fabric of our lives rather than a noticeable wardrobe. Still, as I learn from the lives of those parents around me I can be overwhelmed with a sense that I have come away with nothing. This is not true of course. But it is important for me to examine the question.

I have not always delved as thoroughly as I have wished into the subjects I have taught and Mason's exact words are not always on the tip of my tongue. I have floated these past few years deeply in debt to my community who have taught my children while I have struggled to keep from slipping under the waters of health problems. As we approach the end of our home years I would now give back to the CM community, to homeschooling parents who are starting out and are trying to make sense of the words of wisdom that Mason has left us. I cannot offer enthusiasm, programs, and energy. But I can listen, advise, nudge and guide. I can pray. I can be a voice of objective reassurance when it all becomes overwhelming and you, dear parent, think you are failing.

I have a daughter who weaves. As she has learned the process and I have watched her grow in this skill, I have been impressed with the amount of work that goes into preparing to weave. At least half of the work takes place before any actual weaving happens. It is careful, delicate work and some of it is tedious. The weaver has full control over what kind of fabric will be created and it takes much time.

In this I see a Beauty that can apply to our lives. Perhaps the fabric that others weave will become something flamboyant that they throw over their shoulder and wear as a flowing robe or cloak. Perhaps it will be an undergarment that shapes everything they wear on top but is itself unobtrusive.

If I have a gift to give it is that I can point out this truth to encourage: Each person weaving will create a unique and personal design, each student will come to understand the style of clothing that fits best, and it will be beautiful.

A borrowed post

There are lines in writing that resonate. Sometimes it can be the whole tone of a book or blog or website. Sometimes a sentiment behind a word or two. I have spent months on one verse in the Bible, coming back to it again and again, fully intending to get on to verse 4 but never getting past verse 3. "Grace and peace to you from our Lord Jesus Christ." So good.

A while back I stumbled across Tonia's blog. I've never met her. Emailed once. Who is this woman? Remarkable for sure. In any case I read this blog post today. Look for the phrase about not knowing how to answer the questions that seek to measure. Then look for the act of defiance. If only I'd thought to think that in the days before I became aware of my own confidence in this need to be at rest.

And then explore her blog. There are many places to settle for a while.

It's March.

Made it.

I've only worn out two sweaters this year and purchased two new ones to replace them. One new scarf, one shawl, new socks. The wood stove has made an enormous difference.

And apparently I've been vitamin D deficient and that is really, really important for me. Who knew? I am more thankful than you can know for those little, round, squishy pills.

CTM told me I'm doing better this year at not hibernating. "You don't just move from the stove to the chair in front of the fire to the furnace room to get more wood for the fire."

Thanks.

.