Surrender

"A certain darkness is needed to see the stars."

Phew! This past month has been a doozy. Between the emotional warring, the physical barrage of exhaustion and coldness (inside and outside), the suffering of deep sadness, and the inability to understand "why?" I am more than ready to show February the door. 

I spent a bit of time this morning looking into what I believed had to be the reason for all the turmoil around me. I have a tendency to think that when everything goes awry it must be because something is happening on a cosmic level. Ironically, I'm usually correct, in particular, this moment, this past month, and even the next month ahead. I'm not adept in astrology by any means but I do appreciate those who are, especially when I see what they are suggesting at work in my own life and those around me. 

Since the beginning of February we have been in the throes of an infamous Mercury Retrograde; a slowing down and a seemingly backward trajectory of the planet Mercury. Most people put blame on this celestial experience when their life goes topsy-turvy with communication break downs, cars breaking down, friends or family becoming ill, etc. The caveat being these things usually all happen at once, within days of each other. And they do. All of them. It's quite astounding, really. For example, in my world for the past month the following happened:: a dear friend of mine lost one of her closest, most dearest friend unexpectedly, another dear friend's young son was diagnosed with cancer, I lost a friend from lifetimes ago through tragic circumstances, a woman in my life that I love so dearly has been battling her third go 'round with cancer, my mother's illness has begun to spread again within her body, we've experienced disappointing communication break downs within our community leaving us with no choice but to rehome our Shetlands, my anxiety, which was relieved and seemingly healed after the birth of our baby, has resurfaced its fiery and toxic self leaving me paralyzed in fear and despair and unable to sleep at all soundly when I'm afforded the chance. It's brutal. It's dark. It's lonely. This, my friends, is Mercury in Retrograde.

Before I'd realized that a cosmic event was truly at work, I had been afforded the gift of "surrender" (so I thought). I had been feeling overwhelmed with grief and sadness for so many, for myself, for the world at large, that I finally had to surrender to it and actually feel it. This, of course, was when my anxiety persisted. Those gnawing, stabbing headaches started first, then the achy and twitchy muscles, followed by the horrific sense that "the other boot" was about to drop. Top that off with a pounding heart and racing thoughts and you've got a pretty clear image of me over the last few weeks. I surrendered to the sadness, to the reality that I couldn't fix or fade the sadness that those around me were feeling. But I didn't really surrender......I distracted. I did. I baked my ass off. I jumped in headfirst to find ways to push away the sadness and do something for those around me. This was my idea of surrender. This is not what real surrender looks like. I was on the right path when I realized that feeling the sadness that swelled within me was a way to surrender to it. Then, something in me wasn't up to the task so I (truly unknowingly) switched from feeling to doing, allowing me then to stop feeling. Make sense? Over the last week I was sure I was going to implode. If my heart beat any faster, if my mind raced any faster, they each would run right out of my body. Last night, my dear sweet husband came to my rescue. He helped me to surrender. I lay crying in bed, he came to our room knowing that I was neck deep in the trenches (he knew it before he even reached our room. Divine intervention?) He sat with my as I cried and cried. Deeply and thoroughly cried. He said the words out loud that I was too afraid to say to anyone. He heard me, even though I hardly said anything, he heard me. My love gently reminded me that it was OK to feel what I was feeling, to feel them, let those feelings swim around and take up residence, surrender to them. He reminded me that these feelings are a process to release; the pathway to reaching the other side of it all.

 His words reminded me of the spiritual warrior that I am and the gift we all possess to change our consciousness at will. 

I went to bed meditating on the ideas that all that I have felt these past few weeks have brought me deeper to understanding the fragility of life, the preciousness of it all. I'm turning my sadness in to awe by seeing these moments and measuring their worth and  that idea led me to this passage by Ralph Waldo Emerson.....

"Write it on your heart that everyday is the best day in the year. He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. 

Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt have crept in. Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense.

This new day is too dear with it's hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays."

.....and this song that I love so much::

I guess what I'm coming away with from this particular Mercury Retrograde is to surrender to love. Even when those around me are suffering, even when I am suffering, if I can truly surrender and just let it all wash over me, I'll be better off in the long run. My anxiety will have no place to hide because I can only believe that anxiety, fear, and sadness can not sustain itself in love. 

With a little help from my friends (literally and figuratively) I now have a plan that will support my emotional and physical body to overcome this exit out of the current cosmic pull into the next. This is all just one big mountain that needs climbing, and I can sense the summit is near. I am honored to climb this mountain with all its sharp and jagged edges because that means I am alive. I am alive to see and hold those that I love so well, to feel the world spin around me, to one day walk outside and feel the warm sunshine and grass under my toes (dreams of summer commence). In the meantime, I'll just keep working on my courage.

"Don't wait for something big to occur. Start where you are, with what you have, and that will always lead you into something greater. Love takes courage. Be Courageous." ~ Mary Manin Morrissey

The Edge

By February, I'm just about hollowed out: wool and bones.  I can be by turns randomly aggressive and spontaneously weepy (Marcy finds this somewhat amusing by this point in our life together). I've worked outside for the majority of my adult life, and I wouldn't dream that away for a moment.  A known facet of this choice, however, is the Claustrophobia of Cold that encroaches every year around this time. The Devil I know.  I'm necessarily in it every day, all the time, with no escape hatch.  (We all live in a winter submarine...c'mon, sing with me!)  Last year I had steady work on a larger job and I whisked us all away to a hotel with a pool, hot tub, and television for the weekend; that kind of escape is just not in the cards to be dealt this winter, and it basically bums me out (for lack of a more apt descriptor...).  And so I keep working, keep moving sheep and feeding chickens at dawn and dusk, keep building things and moving materials, keep putting on that forty pounds of clothing.  Again, this is by no means a complaint so much as a premise.  And, okay, maybe whining a little, but I digress.  Just a premise. 

We live, as it was put recently, 'on the edge'.  To say we're paycheck-to-paycheck is somehow remarkably romantic an expression: it's scary as hell sometimes.  It's a choice of lifestyle more than anything (one cannot serve two gods, after all), and maybe someday all the cylinders will fire in cosmic synchronicity (whoa..!) and the money will be more abundant.  For now, I serve my God in my works, by which I mean I need desperately to create, to be creative, with my mind and my hands, and to put me inside behind a desk (I've tried.  God knows I've tried a few times.) is to cage an animal and watch it pace at the door.  I also thrive on care: the rhythm the sheep provide for me is invaluable; the chickens bring me so much joy; and without my family I'm pretty sure I'd dessicate and scatter in the wind (did I mention my tendency for hyperbole?).  I could, and in the past have, sacrifice the creation and care aspects for money, but what that means for me is to not serve something higher, something more true and authentic about myself.  (I don't mention the impact on the family, and it has proven severe, because I feel it's likely superfluous in this milieu.)  So I serve my God in care and creation as I'm able and trust is true. 

We have burned four and a half cord of wood this year.  A lot for our little home.  I only bucked up three cord in the off-season in preparation, as we've not used much more in the past couple of years.  And so with humility, a heavy heart and hat in hand, I asked our dearest friends (and by great Grace, neighbors) for some firewood to get us through.  We dug through a pile in the yard and loaded my truck last weekend, for which I was very grateful.  When I returned home, I backed the truck up to the bare woodshed and dropped the tailgate, and this event transpired.  
 I stood staring at this load of icy, snowy wood I was now going to need to unload and felt this incredible, forceful wave of gratitude.  The wood, of course: it provides us with heat.  The kindness and generosity of our friends?  Without question.  But coupled with these was this sense that I was being presented, on a grand scale, a blessing, a lesson, a....I still don't really know how to describe it other than to say at that moment I felt close to my God.  This pulse that reverberated through me was the koan,
"Magical power,
marvelous action!
Chopping wood,
carrying water..."
As I ruminated on this (which I liken to a deep, far-off-feeling meditation) while stacking wood, the blessing, the nearness I felt washed over me.  There are workshops, corporate retreats, entire businesses created to provide us with lessons on this, but it's simulacrum: it cannot be authentically grasped without living it.  The blessing is the edge!  If we don't have this wood, we have no heat.  If I don't carry the water to the animals, they don't survive.  And much of this is metaphorical, but some of it not.  The gravity of chopping wood and carrying water is equal to the importance of living and dying on a terrifically (sometimes terrifyingly) tangible level.  Perspectives are vastly different from here.  Here's how my thoughts run (just to clarify, because this seems important to me, not because of my typical ebullience.  Probably...) :
If I have not known the edge, maybe I never really gave too much thought to my actions.  That blanched, plump, plastic-wrapped chicken I picked up from the supermarket is pretty far removed from hatching, raising, and processing these roosters we've been eating.  If I can afford the relative ease of oil, why on Earth would I want the headache of a woodstove?  If I can avoid lifting and moving and walking miles over hill and dale, in all kinds of weather, wouldn't I?
Years ago these things were coming up for me.  I remember thinking about the health benefits of being in motion, of being outdoors, of sourcing my own food. More recently I recall talking to the children about animals, vegetables, growing and harvesting, questions of dominion and the paths-to-spiritual-paths this carries with it.  Questions, and ones that ring of higher Truths to me, if only in the seeking.
 
For me, the trade-off thus far has been financial, and, by degrees, comfort.  But I've been spartan, often monastic in my efforts to find a better understanding of my God for some time.  And I guess maybe that's the gambit for me: I define myself as a father and husband actively and perpetually seeking a dearer relationship to my God.  There exists no conflict for me in serving my family, our animals, and my God: they are each an expression of the other.  Needs are met and love is in abundance in these relationships, and thanks to the edge, I can see that very, very clearly.

It's not for everybody, nor should it be, but I needed desperately for you to know so you can see where I live, in my mind and my soul, and that I'm not just bat-sh*t crazy. 
Not that I've taken that option off the table.

I'm really glad you've allowed me to share this with you.  Thank you. 

Homeschool:: A Day in the Life

"I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning."          ~ J.B. Priestley

A Day in the Life

~ with a newborn (Daphne), 20 month old (Seraphina), 4 year old (Kiki), 6 year old (Charlotte), 12 year old (Bella) and 14 year old (Casen)

Mornings are precious in our home. We are slow and warm and still pretty sleepy because the day begins quite early. Lee is up before dawn to get Casen and Bella off to school and do farm chores, letting me catch up on a little shut eye since I'm up nursing our baby throughout the night. The three younger ones get up with Daddy and have breakfast. By the time I come out, Lee is heading out of the door for work. The girls and I settle in to getting dressed (some days), a movie, listening to some music, drawing, or just quietly (or rambunctiously) playing. Today, we all got dressed and turned up some nice folky tunes and let the morning ease on by.

While we've only been trying to incorporate a bit of formal homeschooling into our rhythm since last year, we've always been a "life's full of lessons" kinda family. At this time in our life we're striving to build a mini homestead on our land, complete with chickens, sheep, pigs we share with our neighbor, and the never-ending task of garden plans and upkeep. We've had many successes and failures but as we look to the Springtime we are hopeful for a more "productive" season; both with our education and farming.

Our little school room

Our school room space is really our old living room turned dining room turned school room. Our home is less than 1000 sq. feet, which for eight human bodies, two cats, and a large breed dog, can feel pretty tight at times. I don't have all the storage space I crave, finding an empty space to gather ones' self is usually not an option, and the noise permeates the entirety of the house. We've all compromised something to live in this small space so we can lead the lifestyle we are choosing. Our homeschool space may just be the most organized space in the house. What you see in the picture is all we need; a table for working and a bookshelf to hold our supplies. < The other pieces of furniture you're seeing are our dish cabinet and my craft supplies dresser which doubles as a place to hold our printer and our cats >

Learning about Abstract Art

Our homeschooling schedule is built around the baby's nursing requests and meal times, diaper changes, naps, and when I can find the energy to wrap my head around a lesson. Seraphina (our 20 month old) has minimal capacity for distraction. She always seems to know when someone is trying to get her involved in something. Most days she won't even fall for it making it really difficult to steal away any moment long enough to complete a lesson.

All that aside, the homeschool rhythms we are creating are very rich, motivated, beautiful, and full of joy and exhilaration as we all learn something new together.  Charlotte and Kiki (our 6 and 4 year olds) are the only ones homeschooling full time right now but we supplement the olders as necessary (they go to our local public school). We are using Waldorf and Charlotte Mason inspired curricula for our homeschooling and use those same principals to help our older children with their lessons from school. 

 On a "typical" day we might have some time in the morning/early afternoon, while Daphne is napping or Seraphina is distracted, to begin our main lessons with Charlotte. Kiki will either work along side of us drawing or "writing" or asking a bazillion questions on whatever topic is at hand. She is only 4 so I try to let her lead me for when she's ready for a learning lesson. Depending on where she's at, you might find Kiki and Seraphina teaming up for a dual distraction like this:

A bit of Curious George for the win!

 While I'm not always pleased with the amount of screen time the younger ones get during the day, sometimes it's the only thing that allows Charlotte and me a bit of time to really dig deep and have a nice, full lesson. The lessons we manage to do everyday consist of spelling, writing, reading, math, and handwork. The lessons we are less consistent with are language arts, science, and social studies.  We do those in blocks and tend to complete them in a good amount of time, but less frequently. I sit and plan out what specific lessons we will do either that morning or the night before. Not having a plan scheduled out a week or more in advance works for me because I am then free to augment our lessons to fit where it is we are at at that moment. Having a plan and then not following it, for whatever reason, brings up feelings of failure and overwhelm for me. So, for now, this works. On a "typical" day we are able to get our lessons done in about 2-3 hours. Other days we will scatter the lessons as we need to throughout the day, usually finishing well before supper.

 

Learning to read has been Charlotte's biggest accomplishment. She's been working so hard, all self motivated, so we spend much time sitting (which happens often while I'm with our nursling) and reading. This is one part of homeschooling that I love so much; seeing and experiencing all the "firsts". 

 

Tandem packing our littlest girls

Seeing as I am only 5 weeks postpartum, I have a lot in the way of muscle building to do to be able to accomplish this feat with any regularity and longevity. Our toddler loves to be in a back pack and packing the newborn is sometimes the only way I find that I can be hands free. This set up may just be the key to the girls and I being freed up to accomplish things like: cleaning our wool fleeces, working in the garden, tending to the chickens, painting and other in-depth crafting projects (which we adore), going for walks, heading to the park and other outings, etc.

 

The weather this winter has been so frigid so the girls and I haven't spent a lot of time out of doors together. That being said, when Daddy is home, the youngest girls have someone to pal around with so I am then able to have more focused time with Charlotte and/or Kiki. Daddy,however, will bundle the girls up and get them outside. This is their "do work" time which usually consists of activities like cleaning the chicken coop, getting hay for the animals, visiting the neighbors, going for walks, building something, playing in the snow and ice skating, running errands etc. Sometimes all of the girls go which means I'm afforded some time to get my household chores done or just spend some quality time with our baby.

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Here is a little snapshot into our homeschool rhythm based on a "typical" day::

Morning:: 6am-10:30am (some things we do during this time)

We wake and have breakfast, get dressed, read, play, listen to music, draw, play with play dough, watch a movie, check the chickens/bring out the compost, have snack, snuggle with the baby, get Seraphina down for a nap, nurse the baby, wash the morning dishes, get the laundry in the wash, phase one of play space clean up (with a small house clean ups need to happen more frequently throughout the day)

Afternoon:: 10:30am-1:00pm Homeschooling hours

Spelling, math, writing, reading, science or social studies, language arts, art, music (alternating days for the last 5 subjects), the littles may have a movie, play, or draw. Between lessons I'll switch the laundry to the dryer, prepare a bit for lunch, and try to finish my first cup of coffee (which is inevitably cold)

Late Afternoon:: 1:00pm-2:00pm

We have lunch and then rest for a bit during this time 

Later Afternoon:: 2:00pm-5:00pm (some things we do during this time)

Have a snack, play, read, handwork, draw, bake, do household chores (clean up school room/play spaces), go outside (the bigger girls do this on their own), prepare for dinner, welcome the big kids home, shuttle big kids to their various after school activities, have afternoon tea with friends

Evening:: 5:00pm-10:00pm (some things we do during this time)

We have dinner, welcome Daddy home (if he's working), chat about our day, clean up dinner, have a crazy dance party to work the wiggles out, help the big kids with their school work, have baths, get into pjs, the littles are in bed by 8pm, and Lee and I hit the hay somewhere around 10pm after we spend some time together catching up and preparing to do it all over again tomorrow!

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I realize this is not a traditional homeschool experience, but like all experiences, they are deeply personal. This routine is what works for us right now in the season of life we are in. I'm sure as we all change and grow, so will our routines. If there's one thing I've learned, it's this: 

"The less of routine, the more of life." ~ Amos Bronson Alcott

~ Thank you for visiting our Homeschool Day in the Life ~

 

Keep Calm Craft On: Valentine's Hearts

    

"A hundred hearts would be too few

To carry all my love for you." 

~ author unknown 

I'm joining Nicole at Frontier Dreams for her Keep Calm Craft On linkup <3

 Getting back into a crafting rhythm has been hard around here lately. Our toddler is still quite young and is only interested in a few crafty type projects and for only minutes at a time (coloring, drawing, playing with play dough). The bigger girls are ready and so eager for bigger projects but between the two dynamics, I'm finding it hard to balance between keeping Seraphina happy and occupied as well as the bigger girls. With Valentine's Day around the corner, the girls were eager to make some heart decorations. We've managed to miss all of the festivals since Christmas so it was nice to sit the girls down for a project that will brighten up our home and get us in the mood for some Valentine's celebrations.

 

We made some crayon shavings with our box grater (Charlotte was able to take this task on)

Kiki spread them all over our waxed paper

Then I gave Charlotte our crafting iron (heated on low) which she then pressed all over the crayon shavings that were sandwiched between two pieces of waxed paper.

 

Charlotte and Kiki squealed with excitement and awe over watching the melted wax dance all over the paper. It was so wonderful to hear.  Their eyes lit up and sparkled as they imagined what the hearts would look like hanging in our windows.

Sometimes it's only the simple things. 

*** Visit our sister blog, A Simple Life, for a more in depth tutorial. 

Yarn Along

 

I'm joining along with Ginny from Small Things for this week's yarn along.

 

I joined my first yarn along a few weeks ago with an attempt at knitting my first cowl in the round (first time for that, too). Sadly, I've had to put it down for a bit. Since I'm such a novice my stitches are way too tight, I'm using wooden needles which I'm finding to be not quite as easy to use, all of this combined has caused the one finger I have arthritis in to flair up which makes knitting not so enjoyable. I have a basket that I've dedicated to my other WIPs (sewing, felting projects, etc) so there it will sit, for now.

 

As a way to rest my finger but keep my hands moving I've decided to pick up crocheting. I haven't spent much time with this modality but I've crocheted a few motifs here and there over the years. I've discovered the Crochet Mood Blanket for 2014 via Instagram and thought that it might be fun (for more information on this project check out their Facebook page. It's a closed group so you will need to ask to join. Over 2200 have joined so far with just as many different styles of granny squares it seems. So cool!).

 

So, with the little stash I have of various yarns I've begun putting together a few granny squares. I'll have to spend a bit of time at the yarn shop this weekend and refill my yarn basket as I've quickly become addicted to remembering how to make granny squares, and now learning new styles, that I'm just about out of yarn!

 

As for our reading, we began James and the Giant Peach this week. It's one of the girls all time favorite stories. I, however, am reading A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson (I forgot to put that in the photograph) and Lee is reading Songlines by Bruce Chatwin (a reread for him and I forgot to photograph that one, as well). Either way, it's a reading frenzy here, a perfect way to spend these cold, snowy days and nights.

 

On the needles in the photo is the beginning of Charlotte's first knitting. She mastered casting on rather quickly and has now taken to the knit stitch. Slowly but surely she will have her first work going well on her own. Wish her luck :)

 

 

 

 

{ Mindful Monday }

 

 

"The secret of happiness is to count your blessings while others are adding up their troubles." ~ William Penn

 

As we begin a new week after a rather difficult and loooong weekend I'm feeling the call to really step it up and be mindful of where I am at right now. A few days ago I wrote about the drive I had to be more mindful, to release the grief, overwhelm, and frustration that had a good hold of me. Wouldn't you know, and it's rather funny in a diabolical kinda way, I was given unique reasons to use my new set of lenses and....well.....I fell flat on my face. Like I do most days. It's hard, it's really, really, hard sometimes. Between the mixes of emotion, lack of sleep, the isolation of the deep, cold winter, and feeling at sea with it all, I just couldn't meet the challenge. I let the weekend go by, largely lost in my own head sussing out feelings of anger and loneliness only to wake up this morning to be greeted with smiling eyes and open hearts. I've let that carry me through my day, snuggled in with my girls as we work on healing from the latest tummy troubles and colds that have set in. I held each one, smelled their hair, felt their warm little bodies against mine and thanked God for my life. All of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I am thankful that while we spend a lot more time doing this than I'd like, at least we're all together.

 

 

I'm thankful for the little changes that help me to feel refreshed, like bangs. I cut my own one night while I was enjoying the first bit of quiet all day (it was at 11:00pm after everyone had gone to bed, mind you). I love them. I have never wanted bangs before, even when I was younger and not in control of my hairstyle, bangs were not for me. Until now :) They are just enough of a change to bring a sense of peace to my pajama days and sleepless nights.

 

 

I am joyously celebrating and in awe that we've come a full month since D's birth. She is such a delightful baby, so content and peaceful. I'm lucky enough to waste away much of my sitting time holding her and soaking her in with wonder and amazement. Her life is such a gift, to all of us.

 

 

 

If it weren't for my amazing husband these girls wouldn't see the outdoors hardly at all. I'm in hibernation mode, folks. There's no reason for me to go outdoors unless I've taken on chores that require me going outside. And it's way cold, too cold for our littlest lady to be traipsing about the countryside. I do, however, very much look forward to Lady Spring's arrival. I miss the fresh air and sunshine. I know she's just around the corner which gives D just enough time to get ready. In the meantime, Daddy-O rocks!

 

 

Our chickens are still laying eggs for us even though temperatures have been ridiculously cold (-25 at times). We've harvested (well Lee has with our homesteading neighbors) a couple of pigs which has stocked our freezer heartily and made for a wonderful amount of rich stews and bacon. If there was anything more refreshing in the depths of winter that is fresh bacon and eggs to warm up the morning.

 

As the blustery winter continually descends upon us, I will eagerly look back and be reminded of this place that I've discovered. I am lovingly embracing the fact that I've reached the doldrums but revel in the fact that I will rise above and can "rest and be thankful".