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Principle 2: Fantasy and Imagination

Well I never expected it to take this long to get to the second principle of from David Sobel’s book, Childhood and Nature.  (For more on where this started, visit here and here).  But, life gets crazy and, interestingly enough, it seems that I am revisiting the second principle of this investigation just when it seems to be reaching a heightened relevance to our own lives, so this will provide the opportunity to write a bit about how we are doing this kindergarten at home thing, for those of you that are curious.

So what do Fantasy and Imagination have to do with fostering a love of nature and earnest desire to care for the earth?  Everything!  Sobel opens a discussion of the second principle with a tale of his own family’s voyage to a castle laden land.  He recounts how an agenda of tours and history lessons snuffed the flame of his childrens’ interest, which, fortunately, was re-lit by a magical storyteller and the opportunity for the children to freely explore and create their own magical world amongst the castle walls, independent of historical accuracy .  I bet this scenario is familiar to us all, where interest wanes when teaching begins.  It is perhaps our agenda to teach about the earth and our failure to prioritize fantastic and  imagined interpretations of our surroundings that defeats our most valiant efforts to foster an appreciation of nature.

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The power of imagination is central to our  family’s exploration of nature.  Sobel’s ideas resonate strongly with our approach, which derives from intuition and our chosen homeschool philosophy, Enki.  Enki rightly views the world as being unimaginably vast and larger than what can be conceived of through the senses, and while the senses of observation are regarded as invaluable, they are not regarded as the only tools for understanding what is around us.  Enki includes imagination, intuition and insight as other vital senses that help us understand the world.  This may be a tough leap for us traditionally educated adults to make–we learn about the world through science, and science is about observation!  But if we stretch a bit we can see how  these vital senses are the foundation of most spiritual, artistic and scientific advances.  Indeed the sun would likely still be revolving around the earth if Galileo had not employed his senses of imagination, intuition and insight.  It is easy to see how these senses were essential to all great discoveries.*

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Now back to our world of little people.  If we can accept imagination as a sense used to understand  what we experience, it is easy to  see how  central it is to the understanding of the natural world, for, hopefully, all of us have experienced the magic of a walk in the woods.  To appreciate the natural world, children must feel an emotional connection to the complex phenomena that define the workings of the natural world.  Children can “see” these phenomena as  the work of living forces.  While King Summer ushers in summer with his demanding presence, calling out for his symphony of bird song,  Duchess Autumn, with a quiet but powerful magic, tosses out gentle breezes turning corn golden,  setting the forests ablaze, and calling the sun down to an early night’s rest. *

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As we walk through the forest this fall, we look for the work of Duchess Autumn.  The hunt for her comes alive.  We can feel her in the chilly air, we see where she has painted the forest.  We also notice where King Summer is lingering  longer, where the leaves are still green, where the birds still sing, where the sun still beats strong.  These characters create a far greater presence of nature to our wee folk than a discussion of the ins and outs of why the seasons change .  The time will come to understand how it all works, but the seeds of appreciation must be laid in the fertile bed of imagination.

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Sobel succinctly states “our role as storytellers and world creators precedes our role as imparters of knowledge and cultural heritage.” May we all tell many stories and create worlds anew every day.

for the grands

A conversation with a dear friend about her love of collages

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A request for a photo of E-man with short hair

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Another summer of big transitions

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A long awaited return to smooth days and smiling faces after some weeks of rough waters

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A picture post for the grandparents and other folks curious about the growing and stretching of the wee folk in our tribesummer 2009.

our own best secret place

We’ve relocated.  In our new surroundings we are living on top of our neighbors, surrounded by wilderness. This arrangement requires a new approach to how and where we play outdoors while at home, which has sent us searching for our own best secret place–a little hideaway to walk to that we can call our  “backyard”.

secret place

We found it.  Complete with rocks to climb, sweet aspen groves, and enclaves of pines to protect us in the winter.  But the best part is the little creek, possibly spring fed (we have more investigating to do), that gurgles as it creeps down the the valley.  It is more that we could have every hoped for.  So just as E-man requested, we’ll be going back every day. And maybe, this special place will be just what we need to get inspired to share, once again, the treasures of our days here at connected at the  roots.

the truth

I like this take on the year in review:

re-purposing

I’m changing things up here at connected at the roots. Collecting my thoughts. Redefining my intentions. Re-purposing this space.

The change is fueled by a passion for an intentional and thoughtful examination of our journey to educate and nurture our youth. Like many, I am troubled by the path we are on. I dream of a new journey. A journey that takes us deeper, to a place where learners of all ages are freed to explore themselves whilst discovering their role in their family, their community, society, the environment and the universe. And also a journey that widens our notions of education beyond the cognitive being to the being in us that is connected to everything: friend, foe, animal, plant, sky, water, sun, cosmos. This will be a hopeful place with a focus on a spiritual direction for education in our home and musings on those pursuits elsewhere, both in intimate contexts and larger societal frameworks.

Now rest assured, dear grandparents, there will still be images and tales of the little folk we all love. For after all, this journey in learning starts right here with us. There is nothing more relevant than the moments that make up our days. Our musings may just take on a slightly different context, to be enjoyed and shared most definitely, but also to encourage us to ponder, question and dream

Let us all remember that we are all connected at the roots.

mockingbird

Last year I was obsessed was the Scaled Quail.  This year, it’s the Northern Mockingbird. I am in love with this bird.  As I sit here writing, he sits atop our trees serenading us with the songs of his comrades.  I don’t have an ear for birdsongs, but I am confident I have heard the abrasive call of the Magpie, the sweet melody of the Meadowlark, and at least four other songs, surely some his, others borrowed.  The radio is off, the windows are open and we are spending our morning listening to this new favorite feathered friend of ours.  I am sure all Mockingbirds are impressive, but I just can’t believe that every Mockingbird has mastered song as well as our neighbor.  I wish I could record it to share.

It’s been a while.  There have been lots of little gem-like moments that I would love to share.  So like the Mockingbird I am going to sing a few different songs.  Let the theme be theme-less-ness.

THE SONG OF RAIN

After a month or more of dry winds, the kind of winds that dry your laundry before you get the clothespins on, rain graced the mesa.  The wind left everyone disheveled on the outside and inside.  Our belongings, the neighbor’s trash, and our sense of focus were scattered all about the land.  Spring on the mesa is not a time for getting things done.  It’s a time for starting twenty things and finishing none of them, for feeling busy, and pondering too many ideas to keep even the most grounded person sane.  It’s not all bad, but after several weeks you just want to feel your roots again.  And then came the rain.  Twenty hours  of gentle rain. The air smelled sweet and pungent, of sage and soil.  The sky and sage each looked  a shade greener than their true colors.  Everyone’s spirits lifted.  And me, I felt like I could find a focus to my days and leave the frenetic pondering to my dreams.  Oh it was good.  So sweet and so good.

THE SONG OF OLD FRIENDS

After the rains came visits from friends from the north.  Good friends that filled us up with memories, shared presence, and dreams for the future.  And then they left us…longing for more.  

THE SONG OF SPRING’S END

And peppered in amongst the windy days, the rainy days and the busy weeks were the times that we got to sit and soak up the feeling of the changing landscape around us.  Fluorescent green leaves, bubbling creeks, brave little flowers and noisy nesting birds notified us that spring is about to give way to summer.

THE SONG OF OLD SHOES

After a year of wondering and asking questions of the locals, we greet summer with the comfort of familiarity.  We arrived on this little corner of the earth almost a year ago.  Now we know that the afternoons will be hot, but they will give way to awe-inspiring storms and cool evenings.  We know that caterpillars will hatch in June and the coyotes will prowl in the early morning hours.  We know to expect a dry June followed by a wetter July, leaving August as the greenest month.  New is nice, but familiarity feels really, really good.  When it all comes down to it, I think I am more of an old shoe kind-of gal. 

 

do you

knit?

crochet?

know about ravelry?

yum.

be forwarned, this is dangerous.

(thanks to Lucy for the hook up.)

held accountable

Dave is away for the weekend.  With him, left my desire to cook.  A new cookbook, however, led me and the wee men to take out the mixer, heat up the oven and try out a few gluten-free, dairy-free (ugh, we are so high-maintenance!) baked goods. The muffins were ready right about dinner time, so we each ate a couple while jumping on the bed.  The sun was sinking and I proclaimed it to be pajama time.  ”But what about dinner?”  E-man asked.   I fumbled a bit. (Oh yeah, dinner.  But who does dinner when Daddy is away?)  ”We had muffins for dinner!”  I exclaimed, hoping my enthusiasm would be convincing.  ”But we need something healthy, like vegetables.  Maybe some celery or broccoli,” E-man insisted.  

What’s up with that?  I suggest we can have peach muffins for dinner and my four-year-old insists we need vegetables.  Who taught him such nonsense?

naturescapes

The new banner is a shot of our nature table, which began quite some time ago as a static tribute to the changing seasons. You know, little things collected while outdoors, colors that set the mood, keys and wallets. Combine 3 parts inspiration from E-man, 1 part rummaging through firewood and 2 parts mama wielding hacksaw and the nature table has evolved into a nature play scape, one of E-man’s favorite places. You can barely see a couple of his wax nests perched atop the tall pillars.  E-man loves nests.  I love to see how it evolves, and evolve it will. We’ve got plans for bendy creatures of the woods, stairways, furniture and countless additions that are yet to be found out doors.  I’ve got plans to learn how to use some wood working tools.

a nod to our european ancestors

We tried out a new game today: Bocce Ball. Dave has insisted that we stay off our little patch of green to give the grass a chance to recover from living in our arid climate. I am begrudgingly accommodating the request. Tending to green grass makes me feel like a middle aged man, not to mention that grass likes water, of which there is very little out here. Bocce, as it turns out, is perfect for our long dirt driveway, drawing us far away from the little lawn we love and loathe. It brings back memories of playing petanque with old men drinking pastis and eating peanuts in rural France. A great way to pass an afternoon. No pastis here, but we’re having just as much fun.

We aren’t all on board with the game. Guthrie likes to chase and run with the pallino, the little ball that serves as the focal point of the game. When it moves very fast while held in little hands…well, the game just can’t proceed under those conditions. This irks E-man to no end. It makes me laugh.

E-man understands the object of the game, and as you can see, he takes it quite seriously. I hope he doesn’t like Bocce more than mopping!

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words to think on

Whobody? -G-man

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