Limits and Liberty ~ Chapter Three: You Cannot Have It All and Having It All Doesn’t Equal Happiness

Today’s contemplation of libery and limits is a long one. If you haven’t read the previous posts, you may want to start here and then read chapter two.

Quite some time ago, I read The New Midlife Crisis at Oprah.com. It’s long. And relevant.

Let me sum it up for you.

We (women in particular) have been sold a lie:

“You can have it all, and having it all will make you happy.”

At some point after that lie began, the ugly truth hit us.

“You are obligated to have it all, and you will be judged accordingly. You will always fall short.”

You must do it all, be it all, have it all, know it all. Everything is available to you so no excuses.

Options became obligations became oppression, and now we’re coming undone under the weight of it all.

You have 20 local gyms. You have countless excercise programs on countless platforms to stream to your television. Heck, stream them on your i-whatever, so you never have an excuse. Any time. Any place. Any weather. You must always be thin and sculpted.

You have a gazillion anti-aging products and procedures to choose from. You are expected not to age.

You have a gazillion beauty products to choose from, and a salon around every corner. You should look like you just stepped out of one.

Bronzed skin in February? Check. Precisely straight, unnaturally glow-in-the-dark white teeth? Required.

You can have any career you wish. It had better be impressive.

All the stuff? All the activities and vactions? That’s what credit cards, loans, and mortgages are for. No excuses.

Maybe, just maybe, we can shrug off the expectations. We can make a different choice for ourselves, self-limit, despite real or perceived judgment. But add kids to the equation? Mothers, in many cases, take a lion’s share of the child-raising obligations on their shoulders. Can we handle the judgment of others (including our kids) when we don’t provide or facilitate every possible opportunity for our children?

Speaking of children… No one has an excuse not to have children. And no one has an excuse to have more than two. Boy and girl, preferrably. Hair combed. Clothes clean. Top of their class. Leader of the team. All the activities. Best schools.

And, by golly, now that you have everything, you should be happy. Because we all know that independence, money, beauty, things, and success bring happiness, right?

A little over a month ago, I randomly stumbled on this raw-honest article written by Stacy London of What Not To Wear fame.

It’s worth reading, but I’ll sum it up for you.

Independence, money, beauty, things, and success don’t bring happiness.

Days before I read that article, Joshua Gibbs posted the following on Facebook:

"Money cannot buy happiness, but it can buy unhappiness."

One day prior, also on Facebook, a friend posted quotes from Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari.

“In 2012 about 56 million people died throughout the world; 620,000 of them died due to human violence. In contrast, 800,000 committed suicide, and 1.5 million died of diabetes. Sugar is now more dangerous than gunpowder."

"For all humanity’s astounding accomplishments in reducing the worst sufferings, our happiness levels really haven’t changed. Actually suicide is a greater problem, especially in developed countries."

I immediately grabbed Homo Deus at the library, and I’m riveted. For all of human history, we have battled three dominant problems: famine, plague, and war. Harari makes the case that we humans, in just the past few decades and for the first time in history, have transformed these “uncontrollable forces of nature into manageable challenges.” Now that human striving has conquered these dominant problems, we have a new agenda which includes immortality and happiness.

On immortality:

“In truth they will actually be a-mortal, rather than immortal… So as long as no bomb shreds them to pieces or no truck runs them over, they could go on living indefinitely. Which will probably make them the most anxious people in history. We mortals daily take chances with our lives because we know they are going to end anyhow. So we go on treks in the Himalayas, swim in the sea, and do many other dangerous things like crossing the street or eating out. But if you believe you can live forever, you would be crazy to gamble on infinity like that.”

On happiness:

“On the psychological level, happiness depends on expectations rather than objective conditions. We don’t become satisfied by leading a peaceful and prosperous existence. Rather, we become satisfied when reality matches our expectations. The bad news is that as conditions improve, expectations balloon. Dramatic improvements in conditions, as humankind has experienced in recent decades, translate into greater expectations rather than greater contentment. If we don’t do something about this, our future achievements too might leave us as dissatisfied as ever.”

Anxious and dissatisfied. Not progress.

I’m only about 50 pages in, and the book is littered with sticky tabs. I’m curious to read his conclusions. I may have to purchase this one so I can highlight and underline to my heart’s content.

Then another friend (on FB) posted a quote from Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig.

“The world is increasingly designed to depress us. Happiness isn’t very good for the economy. If we were happy with what we had, why would we need more? How do you sell and antiaging moisturizer? You make someone worry about aging. How do you get people to vote for a political party? You make them worry about immigration. How do you get them to buy insurance? By making them worry about everything. How do you get them to have plastic surgery? By highlighting their physical flaws. How do you get them to watch a TV show? By making them worry about missing out. How do you get them to buy a new smartphone? By making them feel like they are being left behind.

“To be calm becomes a kind of revolutionary act. To be happy with your own nonupgraded existence. To be comfortable with our messy, human selves, would not be good for business.”

I immediately purchased (ha!) Matt Haig’s book. It’s an overwhelmingly helpful and, in the end, hopeful book about depression and anxiety from someone experienced with both.

Just today, yet another friend posted this jaw-dropping article: “Torches of Freedom”: The Anti-Literature of Advertising at Front Porch Republic.

“The object is to associate the sandwich with “freedom.” The technique is always the same: associate some salable commodity with some ineffable quality, preferably something deeply felt and visceral: love, peace, attractiveness, status. We cannot purchase freedom by the pound, but we can purchase sandwiches and cigarettes, and if the one can be associated with the other in our minds, it is not necessary to discuss the advantages of the product. After all, you can choose your own vegetables and select one of a dozen pre-packaged dressings. What more could freedom want?”

What more could freedom want? Exactly. All those choices and we think they bring happiness.

“This “new man” created by consumer culture can have anything he wants, except happiness; he must always be wanting and never be content, because contentment would be the death of consumerism. He must always seek his happiness in things rather than in persons, and then seek it again in some other thing; but he must never be allowed to become content; contentment would destroy the consumer culture...”

What’s to be done?

“Teachers of literature must train their students to apply the same techniques of literary criticism they learn in reading literature to their reading of anti-literature… “

[Go read the rest of the article!]

I have a few ideas that I’ll be sharing in later posts, but I’ll share two counter-cultural links.

:: Just as I Am: Accepting Our Limitations by Jennifer Hesse (Jenn is a friend of mine and she posted this as a response to the Oprah article.)

“Whereas human nature constrains our time, energy, and strength, God by his nature is eternal, infinite, and all-powerful.”

:: The Economy of Kindness at Rabbit Room

"The Kingdom of Christ and its economy of grace run deeper. When we offer the token of kindness to others, especially when they expect an exchange of money, we let them know that they have verged upon another land. Here, their money can buy nothing, but if they offer their need, they can dine on the richest of fare."

Limits and Liberty ~ Chapter Two: The Golden Mean (of Virtue)

[Read Chapter One here.]

“It is better to rise from life as from a banquet -
neither thirsty nor drunken.” 

~Aristotle

I’ve started doing yoga. What I’ve learned is what looks so very easy can be so very difficult.

Even when I’m not moving (especially when I’m not supposed to be moving).

It’s the balancing that gets me. It takes so much muscle control to remain still. I have constant checks (small and large) in one direction and then then other. Sometimes I completely lose any semblance of form and have to begin again.

Let’s return to our pendulum from chapter one. It feels great, at first, to swing from a place of oppression to a place of freedom, but some of us may have discovered that the swing away from tyranny brings us to a different form of slavery on the other extreme. Slavery to an over-loaded schedule, closet, or body, for example.

Seneca, the famous Stoic, wrote, “So-called pleasures, when they go beyond a certain limit, are but punishments…”

The solution seems so easy: just shed a few activities, pairs of shoes, or pounds.

But it takes an extraordinary amount of muscle control (and willingness to live in tension) to find that place of equilibrium and remain there. It’s a constant effort of self-imposed limits, and we’re easily tired by constant effort.

We make decisions. We second-guess ourselves. We give in to pleasure or convenience. We punish ourselves.

Aristotle, writing about ethics, examined moral behavior according to the “golden mean of virtue.” He argued that virtuous living is a balance within a sliding scale of deficiency and excess (the extremes). The deficiency and excess are both vices, and the golden mean is virtue.

“For both excessive and insufficient exercise destroy one’s strength, and both eating and drinking too much or too little destroy health, whereas the right quantity produces, increases or preserves it. So it is the same with temperance, courage and the other virtues… This much then, is clear: in all our conduct it is the mean that is to be commended.” [Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics]

True liberty is liberty from excess.

True liberty is liberty to choose virtue.

Not cowardice or recklessness, but courage.
Not stinginess or extravagance, but generosity.
Not sloth or greed, but ambition.
Not bashfulness or flamboyance, but modesty.
Not apathy or aggression, but patience.
Not indecisiveness or impulsiveness, but self-control.
Not starvation or gluttony, but sufficiency.
Not cacophony or monotony, but harmony.
Not tyranny or anarchy, but freedom.
Not laziness or obsessiveness, but perseverance.
Not uniformity or eccentricity, but individuality.
Not false-modesty or boastfulness, but truthfulness.
Not chaos or reginmentation, but order.
Not self-deprecation or vanity, but confidence.
Not quarrelsomeness or flattery, but friendliness.
Not moroseness or absurdity, but good humor.

In our culture’s quest for freedom, we think in terms of “freedom from” rather than “freedom to.” We want freedom from limits (seeking pleasure and happiness) instead of the freedom to do what we ought (seeking virtue and character).

“Freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do what we ought.” - Pope John Paul II

Do I have a handle on this in my own life? Absolutely not. I’m just a shaky tree pose over here. You’ll hear me chanting “I am, I can, I ought, I will,” as I wobble, fall, and start again.

In upcoming posts, I’ll be sharing how the “golden mean” applies to various areas in my life.

:: Charlotte Mason’s Students Motto @ Ambleside Online

“I am, I can, I ought, I will.”

:: Stratford Caldecott, Beauty in the Word

We imagine that the more choices we have, the freer we are. In reality, a multitude of choices makes us no freer than we were before unless we have the freedom (that is, the power, the ability) to choose between the right action and the wrong action... A myriad of evil choices is no choice at all.

:: Letter 39: On Noble Aspirations ~Seneca, Letters from a Stoic

Utility measures our needs; but by what standard can you check the superfluous?

It is for this reason that men sink themselves in pleasures, and they cannot do without them when once they have become accustomed to them, and for this reason they are most wretched, because they have reached such a pass that what was once superfluous to them has become indispensable.

And so they are the slaves of their pleasures instead of enjoying them; they even love their own ills, - and that is the worst ill of all! Then it is that the height of unhappiness is reached, when men are not only attracted, but even pleased, by shameful things, and when there is no longer any room for a cure, now that those things which once were vices have become habits.

:: The Virtuous Life: Moderation @ The Art of Manliness

This is certainly the answer society gives us for our restlessness, our boredom, our anxiousness, and unhappiness. The answer is always MORE. More stimulation. More sex, more movies, more music, more drinking, more money, more freedom, more food. More of anything is sold as the cure for everything. Yet paradoxically, the more stimulation we receive, the less joy and enjoyment we get out of it. The key to experiencing greater fulfillment and pleasure is actually moderation.

:: The Stoic Range of Virtue: In Defense of Moderation @ The Daily Stoic

As a society we pride ourselves on extremes. We flaunt how few hours of sleep we maintain, how insatiable we are in our careers, and how comfortable our lives are thanks to an excess of luxury goods. But the problem is that when we aspire to extremes, we also run the risk of taking our virtues too far, which collapse into their opposite-crippling flaws in character.

Oppression, Freedom, and the Toothpaste Aisle

Eleven years ago I began blogging. Eleven years ago I was in the early stages of parenting (my boys were 5, 2, and 8 months). Eleven years ago we moved into our little “forever home.” Eleven years ago we began our homeschooling adventure.

I had plans. I had big plans.

I had it all figured out.

My dreams, if I admitted them, were ambitious. On paper (and in blog posts), a decade ahead was the decade when it all came together. I would be experienced. I would be successful. My kids, oh, they would be amazing. All my passions would have become honed talents. Photography, interior design, parenting, homeschooling, reading, blogging, writing and speaking—expert level, right?!

Maybe you have noticed how quiet the blog has been for a year, or two or three.

Turns out, I don’t have it all figured out. The further into this life gig I get, the less I know and the less I feel qualified to share what I think I still know. Not only do I know less, but I do less.

I have a gazillion blog posts started. One of three things always happens:

1. I’m too lazy or distracted to finish it.

2. My perfectionist side can’t get it up to snuff.

3. I realize I am in no place to give any sort of advice or encouragement. About anything.

But a web, of sorts, has been forming in my mind and in my heart over the past six months. I’ve resisted writing a blog post because this web is woven of many different topics (the golden mean of virtue, politics, health, freedom vs liberty, minimalism vs hoarding, self-care vs self-limits, slothfulness vs leisure, independence vs community, depression, stoicism, Charlotte Mason). There are few topics the web doesn’t touch, and my thoughts are not linear. My perfectionism wants them organized in three winsome persuasive parallel points. With alliteration.

Of course, I also want these ideas to have transformed my life so I can share my successful experience. And I can be an expert.

Truth is, I’m wrestling with these ideas and preaching to myself. You can join me if you like. Wrestle with me. Discuss with me. Share with me your thoughts and experiences.

I have to take this in bite-sized pieces, so I’ll give you the short version if you’re the type of person who reads the last page of the book before starting the first chapter.

Short Version

Unbridled freedom is not freedom.

Options become obligations become oppression.

We can mitigate the damage in two ways:

• By limiting ourselves.
• By loving our neighbor.

The cruicible in which these actions are practiced is FAMILY.

Chapter One (of the Long Version)

I’ve been thinking about the sliding scale (or pendulum swing) between the oppressive lack of freedom and choices that much of humanity has had in other times or other cultures and the unbridled freedom and abundance of our own age.

For so many people throughout history, the occupation of their hours was fixed, their diet was fixed, their relationships were fixed, their knowledge was fixed, their cultural traditions and village of residence was fixed, their housing, clothing, number of children, personal hygiene, careers, creative outlets were fixed. So little freedom. So few choices.

But in this culture in this age?

We have a rapacious appetite for freedoms and choices. We resist all external limits.

You cannot tell me what I should or should not, may not have. You cannot tell me what I should or should not, may not do.

I have the freedom and ability to purchase 100 different items for personal hygiene. When I run out of one of these, let’s say toothpaste, I am faced with a string of decisions/judgments.

When shall I go to the store to buy more? Is it in the budget, or shall I go into debt? Which of the 20 nearby stores shall I visit? (This in itself requires a long string of judgments including distance, convenience, selection, thriftiness, and business ethics.) On the dental hygiene aisle (loaded with countless types of tools and potions just for teeth), I have 40 different toothpastes to choose from. Which is safest? Which is most effective for the purpose I wish it to fulfill? Which is the most economical? Which is healthy? Which is tastiest? Which packaging is attractive? Which one impacts the environment the least? Which company is most ethical? The list goes on. Do I buy just one, or do I stock up? What fits in my budget? What fits in my space? Will that save me time, energy, or money? Do I buy other items at the store while I’m there? Shall I pay with cash, check, or credit card? Which of the 10 credit cards in my wallet shall I use? Is the transaction safe?

We are so conditioned to face these endless strings of judgments and choices every single moment of every day that we hardly notice them.

But do we know what toll they take on us, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually?

Is it healthy to demand no limits to our choices? Decisions that fatigue or paralyze us. Closets and counters overflowing with stuff that clutters our life. Excess or harmful food that weighs us down and cripples our bodies, minds, and emotions. Relationships that break us. Debt that burdens. Immoral or unethical actions or thoughts that destroy us spiritually.

Or is it possible to self-limit in a healthy way that brings us to the center of the pendulum swing, to a place of equilibrium, a golden mean?

In order not to be damaged by unlimited freedom and choices, I must have the self-discipline to set my own limits.

That is difficult in a culture in which choices are a right, almost an obligation. It is difficult in a culture of excess and permissiveness to find the self-discipline to deny ourselves any pleasure, convenience, desire, privilege, or entitlement. Especially when these limits seem (or are) arbitrary.

What if I choose to reject my 465 health care options? What if I wear the same items of clothing every day? What if I haven’t changed my hair style in 20 years? What if I choose to eliminate electronics from my life? What if I choose not to take a promotion? What if I choose to eat the same meal for dinner every evening?

*

I have been contemplating the idea of freedom and self-limits and finding that it is applicable in myriad arenas of life. I am hoping to share how this concept illuminates specific topics in future blog posts. Let’s see if I can write chapter two…

ISFJ + R x 4 = Burnout

Have you taken the Homeschool Personality Quiz at Simply Convivial?

I’ve been fond of the Myers-Briggs personality types since my oldest was very young and it was obvious that he was processing the world in completely different ways from how I processed the world. With the discovery of MB, I also discovered that my husband is my polar opposite. Okay, that wasn’t exactly a new discovery, but it helped me to understand that he wasn’t picking the opposite answer or approach every single time just to make my life difficult. [wry grin] That’s just how he sees and processes ideas, tasks, and experiences (and I’m sure he constantly questions my processing as well).

I am an ISFJ. I don’t think I have ever scored differently on a MB quiz. How does this personality inform my homeschool style? According to the quiz at Simply Convivial, ISFJs are very supportive and love being useful, but because they also dislike conflict, homeschooling becomes difficult when there is any push-back or frustration by the children.

I could have told you that.

Now, as fond as I am of the MB personality typing, and as little as I like other personality typing (DiSC, Enneagram, whatever), I recently re-took Gretchen Rubin’s Four Tendencies quiz. I didn’t really need to take the quiz to know my type, but I’m a rule- and process-follower.

Obliger. I meet outer expectations and resist (or fail) inner expectations.

I got to wondering what my kids would score. I had a pretty good guess for three of my children and a hunch for the fourth.

The three boys took the online test. All three scored the same.

Rebel. They resist both outer and inner expectations.

If my daughter could take the test? Also Rebel.

This Obliger is attempting to parent and homeschool FOUR Rebels (three of whom are boys in puberty or adolescence), and feeling like a failure. [Three of my children are Rebels from birth—though each is different in his/her own way. One of my children is likely an Obliger who is going through a Rebel phase. Interestingly, my Rebel children’s rooms/spaces are complete chaos and my Obliger/Rebel craves neat and attractive spaces.]

If you haven’t parented (or homeschooled) a Rebel, this is what it feels like: every time you take a step, someone puts something in your way and you trip over it.

Me: Fish can’t walk.
Rebel: Some can.

Me: Don’t touch this.
Rebel: [touches this]

Me: Do not get out of bed for any reason again tonight.
Rebel: Unless the house is on fire or someone is bleeding or _________ or___________.

Me: This is the expectation and this is the consequence.
Rebel: [long list of exceptions and loopholes and/or volatile response to the unfairness of it all (or, alternately) “doesn’t hear a thing”]

Me: You will now have to lose ______ because you did/didn’t do __________.
Rebel: Didn’t want it anyway. (or, alternately) Now I have no reason to do anything, so I will not meet any more expectations or follow any more rules. (or, alternately) Here are all the reasons I think you are wrong, including that I didn’t hear you state the expectation and consequence and you can’t prove that I did, your expectations weren’t clear, your expectations were unreasonable, this is the loophole you didn’t account for, I did *enough* to meet the expectations and your evaluation of my work is arbitrary, someone else stated different expectations, you are a terrible mom for taking this away from me.

Me: You can earn _______ privilege by meeting ________ responsibility.
Rebel: Don’t want it bad enough. (or, alternately) I’ve never before been able to earn that privilege, so I don’t know how great it could be, so no great loss.

Me: I refuse to argue and I’m walking away.
Rebel: Awesome. Now I can keep doing whatever it is I wanted to be doing. (or, alternately) You don’t love me and you don’t value my thoughts and ideas. You just want to control me.

Me: It’s time to ______.
Rebel: Don’t micromanage me.

Me: Why didn’t you do this?
Rebel: You didn’t tell me to. (or, alternately) You didn’t help me with it/do it for me.

Tutor: Class, stand up and recite with me.
Rebel: [flops all over on the floor] My legs are tired.

Tutor: Sit in a circle, class.
Rebel: [stands up and wiggles]

Me: Please don’t talk to every stranger you meet.
Rebel: [talks to every stranger he/she meets]

Tutor: Why don’t we go around in a circle and introduce ourselves.
Rebel: [refuses to speak because she’s “shy”]

How you deal with this depends on your personality type and also whose parenting advice you listen to—which feels mostly like a pendulum swing. Either you state expectations and consequences without any discussion, walk away, and let the consequences speak for themselves without the emotional rollercoaster and without engaging in a power struggle OR you treat your children like human beings and value their thoughts and ideas, giving them input into their own lives so they can learn to process ideas and self-regulate.

Neither of these work for me. Great on paper. Messier in real life.

A few months ago, a lovely homeschool guru posted on her Facebook page: “It’s a GOOD thing to have kids who push back and question everything.”

Well, no. It’s exhausting. Simple things that should take 5 minutes become a 60 minute “discussion” and it ends in either the child being allowed to have their way or a battle because the child doesn’t get their way at the end of it. Natural consequences are often, even usually, felt by someone other than the child. And when you’re doing this x4 all day, every day, there just isn’t time left for anything else—like making dinner or sleeping.

The natural consequences are that the house is trashed, lessons are not being completed, everyone is irritable, no one enjoys each other’s company, and nothing fun is on the calendar.

The natural consequences are that mom is hiding in the bedroom.

Summer School Begins

Monday was our final day of Classical Conversations for the school year.

Luke (7th grade) and Levi (9th grade) had their last classes of Challenge A and Challenge 1, respectively. It was a long haul with few tangible breaks for both of them, Levi in particular, and I wouldn’t say we finished strong, but we finished. Gasping for air and crawling on bloodied knees across the finish line. Okay, it wasn’t that bad… Challenge is a stellar program, but we battle the lazies at our house in a big way. Diligent and focused we are not.

Leif (5th grade) also had his final testing for his first year of Memory Master. The first three tests (or "proofs") involved reciting from memory a 160 point timeline of historical events from ancient to modern (this alone takes a solid 10-15 minutes), 24 history sentences covering people and events from Charlemagne to the end of apartheid, 24 science facts or short lists in ecology and physics, multiplication facts from 1-15 plus squares and cubes, math formulas/conversions/laws, 24 English grammar definitions or lists, 6 Latin verb conjugation endings, plus over 100 geographical locations. Each recitation lasted around 90 minutes, and he had to have it all mastered by the final proof with his tutor. Mondy he had a shorter recitation with the director and passed. He loved every minute of it, and I'm so proud of him!

[Lola learned to read this past year, and that is her own accomplishment (no thanks to her mother). In addition to reading, she also listened to many stories and songs on CD. She did nothing else formal for her kindergarten year other than squirling around on CC community day.]

Tuesday marked our first day of “summer school.” I had planned to stay in my pajamas and watch Netflix all day, but after a morning of complete laziness, the utter disaster that was our house overwhelmed me. It was sunny for once, so we left to explore one of our favorite local spots—a wetland area with trails. I successfully avoided house-cleaning.

Luke and Leif continue piano lessons for a few more weeks. Levi continues an online Tolkien class for a few more weeks. We have a few swim meets coming up for all three boys.

My grand plans for morning Summer Symposium time are not yet solidified, but I do plan to do a great deal of hiking and exploring all spring and summer. Our first official foray happened earlier today despite bad attitudes from one child and his mother. Pictures are forthcoming. 

Sole Hope

I recently joined a large group of women who met to fellowship and cut shoe patterns from discarded pairs of jeans.

Sole Hope offers us a wonderful opportunity to help improve the health and lives of impoverished children in Uganda as well as provide women in Uganda with meaningful work for a decent wage. Learn more at the link or watch the (difficult and somewhat graphic) video below.

The End of Winter

Is it summer yet?

Please?

I’d love a perpetual July. [Clearly I’m an Oregonian.]

Maybe you’ve noticed that the blog has been silent for the longest break ever, almost two months. I completely skipped over my ten-year blogiversary.

TEN YEARS.

That’s something to celebrate, but I’ve been bogged down by the decade-ness of this season. I feel like I’ve said everything that can be said, twice or thrice or ten times too many. My boys aren’t as adorable as they used to be in the early years. My house is showing serious wear and tear and the accumulation of junk. My body is showing the accumulation of years and pounds. Homeschooling is hard. Parenting is hard. Parenting teens is really hard. Instead of getting wiser, I am simply more aware of what I don’t know (which is pretty much everything).

I thought I’d have everything under control by now. I thought I would have accomplished all the things.

Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Nope.

So here we are, imperfect and very human.

Are you still there?

I’ll be back tomorrow, in a more cheerful mood, to talk about boys and books.

Food for Thought ~ The Thoughts We Think

:: How Complaining Rewires Your Brain For Negativity by Dr. Travis Bradberry @ The Huffington Post [There is important information in this post for all of us. After a hilarious conversation on Facebook (and on a less serious note), I’ve started having my kids sing their complaints and arguments to me with jazz hands.]

Repeated complaining rewires your brain to make future complaining more likely. Over time, you find it’s easier to be negative than to be positive, regardless of what’s happening around you. Complaining becomes your default behavior, which changes how people perceive you.

And here’s the kicker: complaining damages other areas of your brain as well. Research from Stanford University has shown that complaining shrinks the hippocampus—an area of the brain that’s critical to problem solving and intelligent thought.

And

When you complain, your body releases the stress hormone cortisol.

:: Here's How Marcus Aurelius Got Himself Out Of Bed Every Morning @ Business Insider [This absolutely tickled my funny bone, but it is so profound. Getting myself out of bed in the morning is a struggle, and I think I need to try some his self-talk. Go read the whole thing.]

At dawn, when you have trouble getting out of bed, tell yourself: 'I have to go to work — as a human being. What do I have to complain of, if I'm going to do what I was born for — the things I was brought into the world to do? Or is this what I was created for? To huddle under the blankets and stay warm?'

— But it's nicer in here ...

So you were born to feel 'nice'? Instead of doing things and experiencing them? Don't you see the plants, the birds, the ants and spiders and bees going about their individual tasks, putting the world in order, as best they can? And you're not willing to do your job as a human being? Why aren't you running to do what your nature demands?

:: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett [Luke and I are working on his persuasive essay for this book, two years after Levi and I discussed it. Chapter 27, In the Garden, is my favorite, and the first few pages concern the power of negative and positive thoughts, for Mary, Colin, and Archibald Craven.]

"In each century since the beginning of the world wonderful things have been discovered. In the last century more amazing things were found out than in any century before. In this new century hundreds of things still more astounding will be brought to light. At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done--then it is done and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago. One of the new things people began to find out in the last century was that thoughts--just mere thoughts--are as powerful as electric batteries--as good for one as sunlight is, or as bad for one as poison. To let a sad thought or a bad one get into your mind is as dangerous as letting as letting a scarlet fever germ get into your body. If you let it stay there after it has got in you may never get over it as long as you live."

“…While the secret garden was coming alive and two children were coming alive with it, there was a man wandering about certain far-away beautiful places in the Norwegian fiords and the valleys and mountains of Switzerland and he was a man who for ten years had kept his mind filled with dark and heart-broken thinking. He had not been courageous; he had never tried to put any other thoughts in the place of the dark ones. He had wandered by blue lakes and thought them; he had lain on maintain-sides with sheets of deep blue gentians blooming all about him and flower breaths filling all the air and he had thought them. A terrible sorrow had fallen upon him when he had been happy and he had let his soul fill itself with blackness and had refused obstinately to allow any rifht of light to pierce through. He had forgotten and deserted his home and his duties.”

Merry Christmas ~ 2016 in Review

Merry Christmas from the Scovel family!

Whether you are friend or family, long-time blog friends (coming up on a decade!), or new blog readers, welcome! Here is a quick 2016 in review. If you want to skip the year in review and read the current family update, scroll to the bottom of the post!

January

We continued with our family homeschooling project. We began when Levi was four, and his 14th New Year’s birthday kicked off our year, so it has been a decade of learning and growing together. We were in the middle of our 6th year with Classical Conversations, a homeschooling group that meets once a week. Sometimes it is fun; sometimes we just survive. [Levi was taking a break for the year and usually spent Mondays with Russ and a to-do list.] I tutored the Monday afternoon grammar, writing, and math games class. I continued my own education, reading Flannery O’Connor with my Scholé Sisters and contemplating Parallelism and Rhetoric. 

Russ continued working for Symantec full time (often at home, sometimes driving to Springfield, and occasionally traveling out of state) as well as working on many computer projects for various people and coaching the Lebanon club swim team every afternoon (and swimming as often as possible). All three boys attended swim practice almost every afternoon.

February

February was full of more homeschooling and self-education, an ambitious reading list for the year, and a vacation to Great Wolf Lodge (I think this will become our February tradition).

March

In March, I had conversations with the teenager and we spent spring break at the coast (pictures here, here, here, and here).

April

We finished up our formal homeschooling (with a school year in review here) and commenced spring/summer break, which we kicked off with a hike at McDowell Creek Falls and a trip to the Oregon beach. I was a guest on Pam Barnhill’s Homeschool Snapshots podcast.

May

We met up with online friends at the Oregon Coast and hiked with a big group of friends at Silver Creek Falls. My niece turned one, and my family gathered for Mother’s Day. Luke turned 12.

June

We visited the secret garden at Belknap Hot Springs and hiked with friends at Tamolitch Blue Pool and Triangulation Peak. We hiked at Drift Creek Falls and played on the beach for Father’s Day. I attended a weekend homeschooling retreat in Seattle. And we helped Ilex and Drake celebrate their college and high school graduations. I attended a CC Practicum in Portland for tutor training.

July

We spent time at the river and hiking and swimming at McDowell Creek Falls. We communed with skunks and snails. I spoke for three full days at our local Classical Conversations Practicum. We ended the month with a glorious camping trip with friends and family.

August

I spoke for a day-long Truth, Goodness, and Beauty seminar in Seattle and attended a workshop another weekend (also in Seattle). We visited a local flour mill and a monastery. We traveled to the southern Oregon coast for a weekend swim meet and spent some time in Winchester Bay, where Russ and I lived when we were first married. Russ competed at the Masters Swimming Summer National Championship. Levi broke his foot. Leif turned 10.

September

We began a full and challenging school year, and our 7th year with Classical Conversations, Luke’s first year in the Challenge program, and Levi’s first year of high school. We particularly enjoyed our morning time together. We attended the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire. Russ began coaching and swimming at the local YMCA with the boys. Lola started a tumbling class at the Y. Leif and Luke began piano lessons.

October

Lola turned 6 on the first day of October and the rest of the month was a blur. We tried to keep our momentum in schooling, but the freshness had worn off and it was just work. Homeschooling and swimming. That’s about it.

November

Levi joined the swim team at the local high school. He was thrilled to ride a school bus for the first time in his life (to and from swim meets). I was tired. We celebrated Thanksgiving with my family and enjoyed our traditional Green Friday.

December

Levi attended a winter formal with a friend. He continued to swim on the high school team (until the end of February). Luke and Leif performed at their first piano recital. We are currently on a much-needed long winter break (from almost everything, including blogging and even reading), and we’ve been exceedingly lazy, though we did enjoy ice skating with our friends at The Oregon Garden and the boys swim daily (Levi has had early morning practices every day through the school’s winter break). We had a wonderful Christmas dinner with Russ’s parents last night and we will spend Christmas Day (tomorrow) with my family.

.

And that sums up our year!

.

Currently:

Russ continues to work full time for Symantec in Springfield, though he usually works from home. Work trips, computer projects, and year-round daily coaching and swimming keep him hopping!

Parenting, homeschooling, and tutoring consumes most of my time. I hope to get back to blogging at the beginning of the new year.

Levi turns 15 in a week. He has an exciting and FULL second semester of 9th grade ahead of him. He’ll continue in the Challenge program with Classical Conversations—studying debate, economics, American literature and composition, music theory, math, science, and Latin. In addition, he will be taking a weekly online literature class (on Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings) and attending a 4 day leadership camp in March. His homeschool year ends with a formal protocol event (which I have photographed before, but he is just now old enough to attend). He will finish out the swim season at the high school and then return to swim daily with the team at the Y. He gets his braces off in a couple weeks and will be studying for his driver’s permit (ack!!). He is also finally old enough to take lifeguard training next month and will probably work as a lifeguard this summer (he has been impatiently waiting for his dream job).

Luke and Leif will continue homeschooling, swimming, and taking piano lessons.

Lola will continue to homeschool and learn to swim.

[Obviously, Levi is the one in our family with an exciting life. Ha!]

.

We hope you all have a lovely Christmas Day and a happy New Year!

The Walk

It was incredibly dark and rainy for our Thanksgiving celebration yesterday, but the weather cleared at just the perfect moment and for just long enough to go on our traditional after-dinner walk. It was still dark and gray and it sprinkled on us a smidge as we were on our way back, but we were thankful to stretch our legs and our lungs in the cool, damp air.

Lola decided to use a Queen Anne’s Lace as an umbrella. I don’t think it worked well. But I am incredibly thankful for this darling love.

Delights, Visions, and Suffering

A decade.

A decade ago I began homeschooling the little boy who is now a hairy six-foot man-child.

A decade ago I had a toddler boy who was a one-man demolition crew with insomnia.

A decade ago I had an infant boy who would not let me set him down—or sleep.

A decade ago we unexpectedly bought our tiny forever house in the country and were getting ready to move and settle in over Christmas.

Almost a decade ago I started a blog in which I shared my delights and visions and suffering.

.

Three weeks since my last post, and only a small smattering of posts in two months.

It seems I needed an unplanned sabbatical.

I have a thousand posts started, either in my files or in my imagination.

But I’m having trouble finishing anything. Posts. Books. School work. House work.

My work space is a disaster. My house is a disaster. I’m having trouble summoning any sort of motivation or enthusiasm because it feels so daunting.

Is it the weather and the lack of light? Is it the pushback from kids? Is it the national atmosphere? Is it my inherent laziness?

Is it the decade-ness?

I’m going with all of the above.

But this decade-ness is weighing on me.

I’m struggling with the “visions” because I lack perseverance. I used to love the visions because I could imagine myself doing them, but now the visions come with a heaping dose of reality and they’ve lost the magic.

.

In October, Russ was gone on multiple out of state and out of town trips.

He began coaching the swim team at our local YMCA at the end of September. All three boys started swimming with the Y team as well (Levi’s broken foot healed well and he was cleared for swimming), and Russ started swimming with the Masters team. It was so nice to have a long break from swimming before the fall season started, but the new swim schedule messed with our evening routine. I’m thankful for the childcare program at the Y, however, and we’ve used it often for Lola. There is also a student meal program and a center for tweens, which we use a few nights a week when Russ stays late to swim.

Levi is now swimming on the local high school swim team for the winter season. That again has messed with our schedule, but I think it’s a good opportunity for him.

I hosted a few IEW DVD watching sessions for my CC Essentials parents and hosted the last of my Scholé Sisters Flannery O’Connor meetings. We’ve started a new literary project for this school year (hosted by another friend, but facilitated by the same fabulous Mindy who led the Hamlet and Flannery O’Connor projects). I’ll be posting about the new project as soon as I can finish writing it up (but no promises).

I slowly finished a handful of books.

I binge-watched Longmire on Netflix.

.

Now I need to go purge a decade-worth of stuff from our house.

Or go on vacation.

World Weary?

I know I am.

Every day, every minute, I have to remind myself that this humble work of loving, nurturing, learning, teaching, home-making, celebrating is my calling.

I am not called to be a majority.

I am not called to win.

I am called to be faithful—faithful to the work set before me.

And God will be there.

In the midst of supper, of walking along a road, of real questions and real life.

In the midst of laundry and “woman’s work.”

As I grow, partake, observe, and worship…
In the garden, at the table, in the museum, and with the church.

.

It was a rough week. And a rough day.

I allowed outside cares to weigh on me. I argued with invisible people. I fought with the children. I forgot the important things.

While writing this post, I started to shoo away a child who was hurting and disappointed. Even while writing this post. How do I forget so quickly?

But I caught myself, and stopped. We snuggled on the couch and talked.

Now we are going to clean the house and make it lovely (because the house right now reflects the ugliness of the day).

We’ll light some candles. We’ll put on some music.

When Dad arrives home from his week-long business trip in an hour, we’ll greet him with hugs and smiles instead of mess and bickering.

We’ll play a family board game and ignore the to-do list.

We’ll feast as an act of war.

Will you join us?

:: Feasting as an Act of War by Andrew Peterson @ The Rabbit Room

"Sit down with your children and listen to them. Eat with them. Hug them. Teach them to tend a garden, placing your hands in the wounded yet life-giving earth. Stop doubting and believe. Look your daughter in the eye and tell her she is more beautiful than she could possibly imagine. Muster the courage to show up at church on Sunday. Make your home lovely. Commit to the slow work of shaping the world around you so that it looks like your best guess at what the Kingdom looks like."

Gather

We gathered those eggs. Next up: making butter.

Liturgy ~ In the Midst

Supper. Walking along a road. In the midst of real life.

“Jesus is apt to come, into the very midst of life at its most real and inescapable. Not in a blaze of unearthly light, not in the midst of a sermon, not in the throes of some kind of religious daydream, but… at supper time, or walking along a road.

This is the element that all the stories about Christ’s return to life have in common:

…Peter taking his boat back after a night at sea, and there on the shore, near a little fire of coals, a familiar figure asking, “Children, have you any fish?”; the two men at Emmaus who know him in the breaking of the bread.

He never approached from on high, but always in the midst, in the midst of people, in the midst of real life and the questions that real life asks.”

~Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life

Autumn Apples

“Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple.”

~J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Collect

Autumn did seem to arrive suddenly this year. It was on the first day of autumn during our brief morning walk that Leif brought the apples to my attention.

We have two ornamental crabapple trees (I think that’s what they are—I’m a poor naturalist), but one decided to grow an apple tree from the graft site at the base. Half of this tree is now crabapple, and half is apple. Surprise! It is a young tree, and this is the first year we’ve received a small crop of apples. The kids were delighted and had apples for morning snack after drawing them in their nature journals.

Connect

Lola immediately searched her books and found How to Make an Apple Pie and See the World. She read through it, stopping to sing her continents song on the map page (naturally integrating her CC Foundations memory work, hurrah!). This book is similar to another favorite, Pancakes, Pancakes! by Eric Carle.

While traveling the world to gather ingredients for apple pie may be a bit unrealistic, I love that she knows where and how we get ingredients. She has picked fruit, ground wheat for flour, and watched a how-to video on milking cows (we’ve had cows grazing in our field before, but it’s more difficult to find someone with milking cows!). Next on our list are gathering eggs (maybe we can bribe Aunt Holly) and churning butter.

Create

We had to make an apple pie, of course, so Lola helped me pick apples this morning and we managed to get a pie made.

[Now, for the realistic version: I did manage to get the pie made, even though I’m sick with a cold and all four children were disobeying and I finally told the two youngest to leave the kitchen because they were driving me crazy. The apples were little and a pain to peel and slice. I also managed to peel the skin off my finger and slice my thumb with a cardboard box. My crust turned out so flaky that it didn’t hold together well. I tried to use a form for cutting out cute little apples on the top crust, but they just looked like holes. After baking, the crust was browned, but the apples weren’t soft, and everything fell apart when I cut into it. The kitchen (and house) looked like a war zone. I ended up going back to bed to avoid it while the kids watched television instead of doing what they were supposed to be doing. The end.]

End of Week 3 ~ Beginning Week 4

I never seem to get a week-in-review post up at the end of the week. We are still finishing up on Saturdays, and Sundays are busy with preparations for the coming week. So y’all get a “this is how last week went, and here’s how this week is going so far” post.

Here we are in the midst of week 4.

I’m still getting up by 6:15ish every morning (which is impressive considering how much I struggle to get out of bed). I make the bed immediately and then shower (and put on earrings and a little makeup) and then have quiet time. I don’t touch my computer (or look at my phone, other than the alarm and the time) until after these things are completed. That has made a world of difference. [But I still get “stuck” on my computer and don’t tackle breakfast and the rest of my morning prep as diligently as I should. I need to set a timer and severely limit my computer time.]

We are still starting symposium by 8 am, sharp.

I need to adjust our Wednesday schedule a bit to accommodate piano lessons and Levi spending time on Latin at a friend’s house.

But attitudes and focus have tanked.

It was bound to happen, and we just have to push through until we figure out how to work diligently, even when we don’t want to work hard. I keep coming back to this article by Angelina Stanford at CiRCE:

But, laziness is not inactivity; it’s doing something other than your duty. Laziness is polishing your shoes when you should be writing your research paper. It’s shooting 100 free throws to get ready for the big game instead of washing the dishes. It’s even offering to help others instead of memorizing those Latin forms. Laziness disguised as helpfulness is particularly deceptive. Laziness is so deceptive that it can even drive you to do something you really don’t like instead of doing your duty.

I’m trying to teach my oldest son that procrastinating may seem easier, but it increases our time spent on tasks as well as allows a black cloud to hang over us for prolonged periods of time. We’re bowed down by the weight of our “to-do” list, when, in reality, it may be a quick and much less painful thing to face the task immediately and get it done. The real weight of our tasks is distorted, and we dread them when we shouldn’t. Of course, I realize that I am still fighting this lesson, almost 30 years later. [Again, Charlotte Mason knew what she was doing when she focused on habit training in the early years.]

Until this new schedule becomes habit, it is going to be hard and painful at times. I may have had a few, um, “heated discussions” with my son in the past week or two. After an impromptu family outing on Saturday, we learned that it may be best to limit weekend activities until we figure out how to get our work done during the week.

I have continued to have as many formal family dinners as possible. Last Wednesday I stopped by the local farm stand on the way home from piano lessons. Between the fresh salmon my husband caught the day before and all the fresh produce, we had a feast. I decided to invite my parents over for dinner, which I hadn’t done in a very long time. I even set a formal family dinner on Monday evening, which is our usual frozen-pizza-made-by-children-while-mom-hides-under-covers-in-her-bedroom night. I stopped at the farm stand again this Wednesday, and I’m looking forward to fresh veggies until they close for the season.

We’re adjusting to a new swim team routine. After several years (five-ish?) at the pool in the town just southeast of us, Russ has accepted a new coaching job at our local YMCA and all three boys are making the switch with him. It is a beautiful new facility, and I think this team change will work well for us. The schedule is certainly preferable. They also have child care for Lola (hallelujah!), a masters swim team for Russ, and a free meal program! I think Tuesday and Thursday evenings we’ll take advantage of the free meal for the kids, since I’m picking them up from practice so that Russ can swim with the masters team. [That leaves Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays for our main family dinners. The weekend is less predictable.] The YMCA is also closer to the high school where Levi may be swimming this winter.

Speaking of Levi and swimming… he has been out of commission with a broken foot for the past six weeks, but he just received a green light from the doctor this week. It’s not healed completely, though, so he still has to go easy on it for the next two weeks.

Lola began a tumbling class at the YMCA this week.

Essentials tutoring is going well. Leif and Lola are settling into the CC community day routine (Monday was the second week for them).

My Scholé Sisters group is meeting at my house this Thursday for our final Flannery O’Connor discussion. We are then moving on to Tolkien for this coming year.

I haven’t been reading as much as I’d like, but I did manage to finish The Call of the Wild and Johnny Tremain. (I may have read them a very long time ago, but I couldn’t remember details.)

The list of things we I still need to work on is long: getting to sleep a little earlier, reading more, creating a chore schedule, helping my Challenge 1 student (a delicate issue, since he doesn’t want help but needs it), exercising (yeah, I haven’t been as consistent this past week), and eating better (food is my joy and I want to eat all day long). I could add about 20 more things to the list, but we’ll leave it there. I can’t fix everything at once.

I’ll end with Luke’s Canada assessment from memory for Challenge A (roughly 7th grade). Drawing is a struggle for him, so I’m proud of him for sticking with this map.

Week Two and Beyond at Mt. Hope Academy

After such a great first week, I knew that we might have a few bumps during week two. I was correct, but it was still better than I expected. I had thought about all the reasons the first week was a success, and that helped me understand what we needed to continue in order to have a strong week two.

Last Week (Week 2):

It was a busy week, which made it more difficult to keep up with formal family dinners, exercising, and reading aloud, but I still managed to get up by 6:15 every morning, have a smidge of quiet time, start symposium by 8 sharp, and stick with our school schedule during the day.

Sunday: Church in the park, Leif baptized in the river, BBQ (no formal dinner)

Monday: Week 2 of Challenge, Foundations orientation, Formal family dinner (even though Mondays are usually casual night)

Tuesday: Dinner with friends

Wednesday: Russ in Portland for meeting, Formal dinner with the kids

Thursday: Cleaned house all day so I could host an IEW DVD viewing party for Essentials parents in the evening, Hair cut, Russ took kids to fun pool at the YMCA and then out to dinner

Friday: Errands, Ivy’s 50s Diner birthday party

Saturday: Early to Renaissance Faire with friends (until the HOT afternoon), then last outdoor movie night of the summer with friends (The Princess Bride)

[It was our 8th or 9th visit to the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire. We started attending when Leif was only a year old, but we’ve missed one or two years.]

[I think I need a pillory at home. Leif had so much fun getting hit with “potatoes” (potato-shaped, water-soaked sponges) because it was a hot afternoon and he was the only one who stayed cool.]

This Week (Week 3):

Sunday: Church, Errands, CC prep (finishing up the last of Levi’s Ch 1 work, planning and prepping for tutoring Essentials)

(No formal dinner)

Monday: Week 3 of Challenge and week 1 of Foundations for Lola and Leif and Essentials for Leif and me (tutoring)

(No formal dinner (because I was in bed between CC and book club, ha!))

Challenge A book club in the evening with Luke and friends

Tuesday: Russ gone fishing with friends

UPCOMING:

Wednesday: Piano lessons for Leif and Luke; Levi at Char and McKinnon’s house for Latin

Thursday: Ortho appointment for Levi

Friday and Saturday: Nothing on the schedule (hallelujah)

Sunday: Work in nursery, Lola tumbling class, Errands, Prep for CC community day

What Worked and Why (and What Didn’t)

A friend asked me why I thought our first week of scholé went so well. Was it something we did or just a serendipitous gift?

I thought about it for quite a while, and I’ve continued to think about it through some to-be-expected bumps this week.

In the end, I think there were so many contributing factors that it’s difficult to pick one or two.

Instead, I’ll list a bunch of reasons, in a general order of importance.

• We had a schedule, which I had shared with the kids ahead of time so they knew what to expect.
• I made everyone get to bed early (or earlier than we’re used to)
• I got up early (on time) and followed the schedule.
• I stayed focused and attentive all day long, even when the kids were “working independently.”
• I made the kids follow the schedule.
• We mostly ate good breakfasts, which gave us energy for our day.
• We started our scholé time with a small amount of fresh air and exercise. This got air into our lungs, and oxygen to our brains. And it was fun.
• After a very short walk outside, we began with enjoyable together time (“symposium”). This warmed up our brains and our attention before heading off to individual work areas to do some heavier focusing and diligent work. By the time symposium hour was up, the kids were ready to get away and do their own work.
• When our time was up for each “subject,” we moved on, even if we weren’t “finished.” The kids had an easier time focusing for shorter periods, they kept a good pace because they knew they only had about 45-60 minutes to work on each subject, the day went quickly and felt fresh because they didn’t labor too long over any one thing. (Also, if they finished early, I didn’t pile more work on them to fill the time.)
• I scaled back on Luke’s Challenge A work so that he would feel confident and successful. I worked with him for most of his subjects instead of leaving him alone to figure it out on his own. When he felt confident and told me he could work independently, I let him.
• Levi has shown a bit of increased maturity and asked to work independently on most of his subjects. I honored this change, and it was harder to argue with him when we weren’t working together. [wry grin] The first few weeks of Challenge I are fairly light in terms of work.
• Lola was able to play with Legos or draw or paint. Something she was not able to do in the past. Thank you, God.
• Inertia. This is a big one. Since I was up and moving, it was easier to stay up and moving and get little things done like thaw meat for dinner or switch the laundry. It was easier to pay attention to what I needed to be doing and what was coming up on our daily schedule.
• Because the kids were busy with school work at their own independent stations, they didn’t have time or opportunity to fight or destroy the house. Keeping them busy is good for them and good for my sanity.
• I’m part of an online exercise accountability group, so this helped me stay on track there.
• Formal dinners were such a success that I wanted to continue the trend.
• All those little things (paying attention to meal “planning,” taking my vitamins, eating regular meals, having quiet time in the morning) are difficult to make happen, but they make things go more smoothly, or make me feel better physically, mentally, and spiritually, so they pay off in results.
• Everything is new and exciting, so attitudes were mostly good (mine included).
• We had a light schedule (no swim practice, piano lessons, extra activities, etc.), so we had some breathing room.

 

What I’ve learned this week (particularly on Sunday when I relaxed and wasn’t vigilant):

• It takes a long time for a child to recover from an overnight party.
• If the kids aren’t busy, the house falls into disarray.
• When the house is in disarray, it’s difficult to recover.
• Bad attitudes snowball.
• Being off schedule snowballs.
• It’s hard to maintain vigilance over long periods of time.
• Things aren’t quite as fun the second week.
• Moving specimens for nature journaling are very distracting.
• Lectures take up a lot of learning time.
• Outside activities are distracting.
• Students can’t control themselves when they are using a computer for school work.

[All that said, we have still had a decent week so far.]

 

What I need to work on:

• Not eating all day long.
• Going to bed earlier.
• Staying vigilant with our schedule.
• Lesson planning/organizing ahead of time.
• Organizing and cleaning around the house (particularly in my office/school room).
• Making a chore chart of some sort for the kids.
• Adding things to our schedule (piano, swim, activities, tutoring…) without coming undone.
• Working more with Lola.
• Not getting burnt out.

Commonplacing The Quotidian Mysteries

The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry, Liturgy and "Women's Work" by Kathleen Norris

Recommended by my friends Danielle and Jessye

Read as the ChocLit Guild book selection for August

A slim book at only 88 pages

4 stars

Collecting Quotes

Menial derives from a Latin word meaning “to remain,” or “to dwell in a household.” It is thus a word about connections, about family and household ties.

God is a begetter, not a maker, and poets are makers, not begetters. Maker is what the word poet means at its Greek root, and I am all too acutely aware that what I make, the poems and the personae that fill them, are not creatures in the fullest sense, having life and breath.

And I see both the miracle of manna and incarnation of Jesus Christ as scandals. They suggest that God is intimately concerned with our very bodies and their needs, and I doubt that this is really what we want to hear. Our bodies fail us, they grow old, flabby and feeble, and eventually they lead us to the cross. How tempting it is to disdain what God has created, and to retreat into a comfortable gnosticism.

The ordinary activities I find most compatible with contemplation are walking, baking bread and doing laundry. My everyday experience of walking confirms the poet Donald Hall’s theory that poetic meter originates in the bodily rhythm of arms and legs in motion.

[W]hat ties these threads of biblical narrative together into a revelation of God’s love is that God has commanded us to refrain from grumbling about the dailiness of life. Instead we are meant to accept it gratefully, as a reality that humbles us even as it gives us cause for praise.

[I]f you’re like me, you take a kind of comfort in being busy. The danger is that we will come to feel too useful, so full of purpose and the necessity of fulfilling obligations that we lose sight of God’s play with creation, and with ourselves.

The poem, like housekeeping itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos. In the  poem, by pulling many disparate things together, I tried to replicate the actual work of cleaning, sorting through the leftovers, the odd pieces of a life, in order to make a whole. I sense that striving for wholeness is, increasingly, a countercultural goal, as fragmented people make for better consumers…

I was slow to recognize that combating sloth, being willing to care for oneself and others on a daily basis, is not small part of what constitutes basic human sanity, a faith in the everyday… Benedict’s Rule for monasteries…characterizes sloth as disobedience.

But acedia seeks to hoard against the time when God is no longer present, and we can’t trust the nourishment that other people offer. It rejects the present moment in favor of a vainglorious and imaginary future in which we will do just fine, thank you, at providing for ourselves… In contemplating the “daily bread” that we ask for in the Lord’s Prayer, Simone Weil asserts that God has created us so that the present is all we have.

It is not in romance but in routine that the possibilities for transformation are made manifest. And that requires commitment.

I have come to believe that the true mystics of the quotidian are not those who contemplate holiness in isolation, reaching godlike illumination in serene silence, but those who mange to find God in a life filled with noise, the demands of other people and relentless daily duties that can consume the self.

Our desire is to love God and each other, in stable relationships that, like any good marriage, remain open to surprises and receptive to grace.

 

Connecting

:: Laziness by Any Other Name by Angelina Stanford @ CiRCE [short article]

I read this article just after finishing Quotidian Mysteries, and it was a painful well-aimed arrow.

But laziness, like all sin, is a deceiver, and the first person it deceives is the sinner. Laziness loves to masquerade as work. It’s easy to deceive ourselves and others when we seem so busy and hard working. But, laziness is not inactivity; it’s doing something other than your duty.

:: Leisure: The Basis of Culture by Josef Pieper [book]

I’ve found a contemplation of the word “leisure” to be a fascinating and fruitful endeavor, and it is interesting that the ideas of acedia and sloth are connected to the concept of leisure. So many words have lost their rich meaning in our modern culture [more about that in an upcoming post].

At the zenith of the Middle Ages, on the contrary, it was held that sloth and restlessness, "leisurelessness," the incapacity to enjoy leisure, were all closely connected; sloth was held to be the source of restlessness, and the ultimate cause of "work for work's sake."

 

[I am using Collect, Connect, Create as my process for Lectio Devina, as shared by Jenny Rallens. Often in my blog posts, the photograph at the header (and the blog post in general) is my resulting creation from the Lectio Divina process.]

It Is Time