notes from a *mostly* media-free life :: simple celebrations

Media disclosure, first.  For his 8th birthday, he wanted Chima Legos: little monkey warriors he knows about because he subscribes to the Lego (marketing) Club magazine  - which he did completely on his own.  He has some Chimas, from extended family and purchased from money that he saved up.  We once unsubscribed to the Lego magazines, and put them all away in the garage.  The boys took it upon themselves the re-subscribe, so now that's where it's been for two years.  As he's learning to read, the fact that I'm not going to read them to him has become a motivating factor and he's pretty much on his way.  

Having grown up in comics myself (my parents were artists and comics art brokers), I'm very aware of how awesome they are for reading.  As a peace and environmental activist, I really can't stand that Lego storylines are pretty much war + competition, out of context, set in every fantastical era, molded in plastic.  (And don't get me started about heads coming off.)   But he comes from warriors, many generations of martial artists down, so I not only get the appeal, I also see fit to honor it some.  When he first picked up a bamboo stake, at three, he went into a full-on complex Filipino stick-fighting form. It was beautiful.  Ancestral.  Psycho-genetic. Bigger than me, for sure.  So when he goes out of his way to seek out such things, he gets to keep a few.   

Unless he gets over-competitive, aggressive, or acts it out.  Then they all get put away again, to honor the household peace.  Same is true for his brothers.   

He also wanted golf balls and pins.  He has a set of clubs, and I very much wanted to oblige him, but was reminded of the broken windows factor.  And of our friend John, who has three scars on his face from playing golf with his brothers.  David asked me if I was actually planning on golfing with him, with a new baby strapped on.  Nope.

Secondly, a bad parenting choice:  We have a set of clear glass plates for parties that our boys love.  One of them is a deep, cobalt blue.  At some point, maybe five years ago, I began saying, "And the winner... of the blue plate... iiiiiisssss...." while setting the table.  It was a funny, silly thing, that turned into a competitive, sibling-rivalry thing,  three times a day.  If "bad parenting choice," means creating situations that make parenting harder, then this is an example of that.  While David grew up in competition, I am fundamentally non-competitive.  Sibling rivalry is a hard one for me.  

And it's hard on our sanguine-phlegmatic boy.  He just wants to play, climb things, sing, cook and eat.  He wants to use his body, to explore the world physically and to move slowly when he's found something interesting.  Our happiest moments are when he's working with the animals, playing full-on outside with his dad and brothers, or prepping some kind of exciting food moment.

 So...celebrating his life, his passion, gesture, grown-upness and brotherhood...we picked him a setting of hand-thrown blue pottery.  A plate, a bowl, and large mug.  Two sets of small, but nice silverware.  Eight tiny glasses that each held a single dollar, in the tradition of his great-grandmother, who always sent a check in the amount of our age.  Three cloth napkins.  And a selection of tiny condiment trays.  

His brothers wrapped it all in newsprint (we get ours at the local paper, at $7 for a huge roll of recycled, unused newspaper ends)  + wool snippets.  He was eager, he loved it, and he especially loved watching his brothers set his place like five-star waiters.   All three napkins were used as placement, napkin and mug decor.  The condiment trays were filled with olives, capers, parmesan and sea salt.  He never missed the toys, or the golf balls.  And we have a new tradition on our hands.  

I figure by the time they run off to seek their fortunes (a la'   the three little pigs), they'll each have a full set of eclectic, mismatched plates that speak to who they were each year.

In the classroom, they enjoyed a similar simplicity.  A candle, a verse, a beautiful watercolored card with words from each child.  They enjoyed tea while we passed pictures and told a couple of stories.   The children were invited to share stories about him, and we were struck with how extremely young and sweet eight is.  They aren't restricted by doing it right, "looking good" or even making sense.  Their stories were like haikus, or poetry of moments.  Observations they had made from a place of very little separation.  Their teacher, who's strong and wise and lovely, asked each family to forego treats so no child is left out, and to forego small gifts for the classmates, because "we're focusing on spiritual gifts this year."  

I'm hoping we can just focus on that every year.   

If I go by the reaction from the kids, it fits.  

Celebrating my active boy,  who loves condiments, belonging, family + his wee sacred community.  And the gifts of resonance.   

xx, Maya

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More Notes from a *mostly* media-free life :: Field Guides

Because, we're Sanguine, that's why... *shop update*

Stitching sashiko + rasping the sword...slow steps amongst many, many steps.

san·guine

[sang-gwin]  adjective

1. cheerfully optimistic, hopeful, or confident: a sanguine disposition; sanguine expectations.

Adding these to the shop, I noticed a little voice questioning why I would create projects in the Zakka tradition for the Waldorf teaching community.  Zakka is a modern Japanese handicraft, inspired by Scandinavian design, global materials, and Western homewares from the 50's, 60's and 70's.  It's designed to infuse life with cozy love, humor and beauty.  Think...sanguine handwork.

If every stitch reflects one's consciousness, well, then that's our consciousness up there.   We are hopeful and delighted and even jubilant about the opportunity of Waldorf education.  We savor the sacred community that gathers around our incarnating little souls, and we honor the badass, er, noble and grounded character of our young adults.

Of course, I just came from our Michaelmas Festival, so it's present for me.  There's something about watching each class very closely that really brings home the development of each age, while seeing them in collective costumes some how highlights the individuality of each child.  It's so beautiful how they're held, with the 1st-8th graders all performing together, each 8th grader accountable for a 1st grade "Buddy," and each 1st grader anchored by their corresponding elder.  There's so many little, created dynamics like that, each one perfect for the developmental needs of each child, class, and temperament.

Which brings me back to, umm, us.  We're sanguine, across the board, Robyn, Brian, David, and I, with a bit of choleric, melancholic and phlegmatic thrown in.  (Try and guess.  Just kidding.)  Community-oriented, we are very interested in bringing the world to those under our care.  

I come from civil rights activists, so often hear complaints that Waldorf education doesn't do enough to bring diversity to it's teachings.  Of course it doesn't - yet.  Though downloaded from the heavenly realms, it's come thru a turn-of-the-century European male, and though deeply established in research, results, and student excellence, it's a fairly new global movement.  Steiner, however, seemed confident that we would be able to grow into the foundational ideals of accessibility, explored, living expressions and diversity of thought, within both the individual and the collective community.  All that to say - We have to Bring It.

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Waldorf: accessibility, living expressions, diversity of thought, within the individual & collective community...We have to Bring It

And that's my invitation to you.  To help, I've put detailed instructions for 

NOREN, JAPANESE PRINTED SPLIT CURTAINS 

in the shop.  And it comes with two bonuses,  Patchwork Bibs with Little Tails (Oh, yes), and Papa's Throw.  These projects are my version of love, made visible, and I hope you enjoy them.  Our young people enjoy making them, then seeing them up, worn and sat upon, very much.

Wishing us all the realization of your *hope* and *optimism,*   

Maya

ps - Is there some traditional project you're interested in learning?  Or a particular culture you're interested in sharing?  Please let us know on our FB page!  I will try to find you resources from the source and if I can't find them, and it's appropriate, I'll see what we can pull together.   And maybe there's a handicraft from your culture that you'd like to see here?  I know I would.  Please let me know!

Mary, Mary, quite contrary.....

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My apprentice :)

I've alluded to our front yard garden before. *Front* yard only because the chickens dwell in the *back* yard, and honestly, it got tiresome devising ways to keep them from eating everything. Moving our food production to the front yard made better use of part of the lawn and kept me from threatening to bbq the hens on a regular basis.

We live on a quiet street with a lot of bicycle traffic....I never tire of hearing "ooooh! Look at that garden!" through our open windows as the cyclists ride past. I have had extensive conversations with complete strangers from the other side of the fence about our garden. My early childhood years included a family garden as well. Those experiences sank deep into my core. As a young adult in college, I always avoided living in apartments because I NEEDED to have space to grow things. 

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We harvested from our echinacea for the first time this year! 3 years of waiting for the roots to be developed enough.

Our two children eat (mostly) eagerly from what we grow. But it's really only our daughter who seems to share my passion for planting, tending, growing, harvesting.  I've been tempted to push the issue a bit with my son. I have to remind myself that the core values of tending the earth, being self-sufficient where we can, and the benefits of homegrown organic food are oozing into him on some level. Even if he's not out there with me marveling at every earthworm, by virtue of being surrounded by my passion for all of his 9 years, he's absorbing what's important.

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Straining homegrown calendula leaves out of an oil infusion. We grow the lavender I infuse into alchemy*oil as well.

...how does your garden grow? 

October's Party

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It's almost Fall ... my favorite season! I'm ready to be done with the heat here in California. In preparation for Fall, here is a chalk drawing and a fantastic poem about October. This poem stirs up such beautiful imagery...perfect for  learning in the middle grades (4-6ish) and equally appropriate for writing out and displaying on your home chalkboard. I can also see this poem becoming the starting point for an upper grades drawing. Enjoy!

- Brian

October's Party

by George Cooper

October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came.
The Chestnuts, Oaks and Maples,
And leaves of every name.

The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.

The Chestnuts came in yellow,
The Oaks in crimson dressed;
The lovely Misses maple
In scarlet looked their best.

All balanced to their partners,
And gaily fluttered by;
The sight was like a rainbow
New fallen from the sky.

Then in the rustic hollow
At hide-and-seek they played;
The party closed at sundown
And everybody stayed.

Professor Wind played louder;

They flew along the ground;

And then the party ended

In jolly "hands around."