Being True

        

          Suppose that life in the family is recognised as a path, a school for the soul and the spirit? What does this bring for the individual parent, for the family, for the child?

- from Lifeways by Davy and Voors

Speaking my truth is becoming more familiar for me these days. I'm practising expressing my gratitude for things in my life and speaking from the heart whenever I can.

And the truth this week, as the beginning of the school year is upon us, is that I'm feeling lost for words when asked about our decision to homeschool this year.

I clam up and freeze. I search for heartfelt words that lead to connection and understanding, but end up saying nothing, or perhaps mumbling a little about something if nothing feels too rude.

Its not what I expected I'd do for something that feels so right to me.

What am I to do? I found myself thinking.

And what I did was sit with the torment inside, rather than resisting it. I listened to what it had to say, immersing myself in its tension.

This is what I heard:
- that I'm sad to not be a part of the primary school this year
- that I'm scared of damaging Rosie's education and self esteem in some way
-that this beginning time of year is a time of great expectations for everyone
-that its okay to freeze and be unsure, for that's how I learn and question and look deeper.
-that homeschooling still feels right despite these fears and grieving.

And that we are all on the same educational journey, whether we homeschool or allow our children to attend an institution - we all want what's best for them.

We all want self-directed learners who question and seek answers. We all want joyous, happy little ones who grow in all their glorious ways, uninhibited and owning their own interests, passions and gifts. We all want our children to be true to themselves.

There is no right or wrong way when these are our goals as parents and educators. There are just different ways that feel right to us.

These words help to calm my panic. They soothe and let me take that much-needed step back. And I'm grateful for that.

Wishing you a beautiful new beginning and the blossoming of your children.

Carolyn x x

A milestone on the road to wisdom

Last week we celebrated the much-anticipated 60th birthday of my Mum. And it was a wonderful weekend filled with hot, sunny beach mornings, chats with my siblings who had gathered with us for the big event, and lots of coffee. A new jigsaw puzzle was begun, just like the last time we all gathered two years ago, but unlike last time this one was BIG, and didn't quite get completed by the time we said goodbye.

The three cousins played together with gusto - sometimes in accord and sometimes with a distinct note of discord. But play that was filled with love nonetheless, no matter the outcome.

Flags were strung from the newly completed decking, the BBQ had a workout and new clothing was paraded around during a special birthday dinner one night.

And as for Noni (as my Mum is known by her granddaughters), well she was very relaxed and happy. It was a Noni that we loved sharing time with. A Noni who shone with the wisdom of time spent learning upon this planet. A Noni who has come of age.

Thank-you Mum, for a lovely weekend and a special glimpse of that wise woman that you are.

Xx

Ease and peace

We'll, it's official. Homeschooling has begun. In earnest. For a whole year.

Part of me is terrified - my mind often filled with ceaseless negative chatter (what the f@&k are you doing Carolyn? You were the most enthusiastic teacher at your school. You lectured in education. You can't possibly keep this up. What if you damage Rosie in some way? What about her friends? What about...).

And part of me, a deeper soul-filled part, feels ease and peace. Feels like things have fallen into place. And I am, quite frankly, relieved that I don't need to get psyched-up to get Rosie to school that first week back, or make lunch boxes, or tick-off readers, remember to return her library books, remember that she's mountain biking straight after school and that we need to rush....

I feel weird, it's true. And very, very vulnerable. 

But as I've written before, I think these are good signs. They're signs that I'm listening to that important inner voice that gently, but insistently, says this is what you need. And indeed, this is all I need to say to myself to feel calm descend and the chatter quieten. For vulnerability, I'm coming to realise, is how it feels when my soul is in charge. There's no certainty, or set schedule, there's no evidence or overt logic - that's where my ego excels. No, a soul-led life feels softer, more rounded and, yes, more open and vulnerable. 

This is where I go now - I listen rather than plan. I ask for guidance rather than analyse. I love rather than just live.

And I'm happy.

Wishing you all vulnerable, soul-led days,

Carolyn x x

Poetry in motion

Depression has been a part of my life.

 I've written about this quite a bit already, I know, but I feel like my relationship to my depression is changing over time and needs to be examined, thought about, talked about. Made public, rather than kept silent.

I feel, for the first time really, that I can say I'm past it now. More and more I can look back upon the experiences with perspective. No longer caught in the mire, it looks more beautiful from the outside.

Poetic though my words may be, what is life without poetry? Poetry brings beauty to ordinary words. Poetry lifts us to a higher way of thinking. It brings layers of meaning and paints a picture full of feeling. 

In the midst of depression my poetry, words for my mind only, was dark, desperate and increasingly difficult to create. At my lowest I felt like all the poetry was gone from my life.

That's when I knew I needed to break-free from what I'd been holding on to. That's when I let go, completely terrified and anguished, and took the plunge to put myself on antidepressants. It felt like the end of the life that I knew and was akin to childbirth for me. 

And it was the end of the life I knew.

But, you know what? The new life that emerged was better. I could not have foreseen it. I had to trust, or really just be desperate enough to be forced to trust.

Life has been so much better since that turning point. The poetry has returned, life has colour. 

Finally I'm ready to connect and create.

I'm so grateful for my depression now. It wasn't what I wanted or expected, but it's what I needed.

Wishing you the courage to face your deepest fears, to know that you're not the only one.

Carolyn x x

A bush adventure

This week we packed up our wonderful camper trailer, loaded up our adventure-mobile and set off for a mini-holiday camping in the Mitta valley. 

It wasn't far from home, and we spent only three days away, but somehow it felt much more refreshing than that. 

We swam. We walked. We painted pictures. We made a map of the camp. We homeschooled (travelschooled really) around our tent, in the campground and on our little camping table. We visited Dartmouth Dam and went for a kayak. We cooked bread and curried sausages on a campfire.

In the middle of all this Bethany fell off a camping chair and broke her collar bone, poor little mite. But you know, she's quite fine with it. We tied on a sling, gave lots of cuddles when it hurt, and she continued to play like it never happened. Amazing.

*sigh* such a lovely family time....

And so simple too. I'd forgotten what's it's like to camp in the bush without amenities, without the prompts of the media or the call of advertising. Without wants, and so it seems without needs also. We were quite content. And looking even forward even more to our trip around Australia in April.

I definitely recommend taking the risk and submersing yourself in the nothingness of a bush experience. At the very least you'll have a greater appreciation for home when you get back. At best you'll find an easy stillness within your family, a pulling-together and closeness.

May you share a bush adventure with your lovelies soon.

X x

Food from the garden to take camping...

Finding your Soulplace

Mount Beauty has always held a special place in my heart. It tugs at the strings. It fills my cup. And it has ever since I first came as a teenager.

And when I met Ian it was big tick on his report card when I discovered he loved it here too. Here is a true soulmate I thought. Wouldn't it be great if we could live in our soulplace?

We have a connection to land. To soil and air and water. To the mountains that surround you or the ocean that laps at your feet.

These places have an energy, a feel, that envelopes you when you're there and raises your vibes when you're away and dreaming about getting back.

Your love for your soulplace and your commitment to it is tantamount to marriage. And like a marriage, a happy union with your soulplace requires loving intention, committed attention and action when required. Whether you are aware or not, whether your interested or not, you are a custodian of the land on which you live and love. 

Finding that place that rocks your socks is as important as finding your soulmate for life. Look far and wide if necessary. Listen to your heart. Go where it calls you. Find your soulplace and live with love.

As for Ian and I? 

Well, after some searching around, lots of travel, a mortgage or two and children...we came back to our hearts. Back to Mount Beauty. Back to the country air, the high peaks, the friendly people....and of course the skiing, bike riding, kayaking.... Need I say more?

X x

ps. Here are some photos of my soulplace - flowers, sunshine, mountains, adventures... *sigh*

Welcoming awe-full experiences

"Life has ceased to be sacred or holy for so many people...we need awe in our lives" - Caroline Myss

One of the things that was really missing when I was feeling the full force of my post natal depression was awe. And, truth be told, awe isn't something I experience enough these days either. I think I may I also be so bold as to suggest that everyone could so with more awe, more of the sacred in our lives.

Life didn't feel sacred with depression. It felt frozen. Colourless. Lonely. And I would like to say that it felt sad- but my emotions were too frozen to feel even that. At its best it was a limited existence. At it worst a living death. 

Sounds pretty awful, I know, to read and write these words. But one of the bigger difficulties of depression is the veil of silence that surrounds it - both in the media and in polite conversation, but more importantly in our own heads - in what we say to ourselves and out loud...in what we feel is acceptable.

I refuse to pander to that anymore. My depression is out and I make no apologies for telling it how it is - both to myself and others. This, I believe, can only be helpful to others who are suffering.

And so the more I think about it, the more I recognize that depression is not a just deep sadness, not just a need for deeeep-reeessssttt. It's an absence of feeling. An inability to move anywhere. Forget trying to feel better- I couldn't even make myself feel worse. I couldn't really feel anything except nothingness.

What I needed, and what ultimately came when I stopped resisting, was an awe-full experience. Hunky husband gave me an ugly ultimatum, I started thinking about whether it might be better to end it all.... It was awful.

And awe-full.

It switched me backed on. It jump-started me back to tears and terrible sadness. I even think a part of me died (that part that was holding on to a natural, no-chemical lifestyle). But it worked.

I went to the doctor, I got the drugs.....and the rest as they say....got better. Life got better. Awe happened more often.

And now? 

Well, now I feel I can give again. 

And so I give to you, Mamas. Whether you're suffering or not. Whether your children are young or old. Whether you have depression or not. 

I'm here for you with my story and I'd like to hear yours. Please post below (anonymously if you wish) your story and share it with the world. Depression is a secret no longer.

X x

"To give beyond reason, to care beyond hope, to love without limit; to reach, stretch, and dream, in spite of your fears. These are the hallmarks of divinity - traits of the immortal - your badges of honor." - Caroline Myss

A new year, a new education

Hi there lovely Mamas,

It's a new year, and despite it's quiet beginnings there is definitely a shift in energy and the impetus for change is firmly in our court.

In our household we've embraced the ideas of 2013 and are putting them into firm action. First off is our further commitment to homeschooling.

We've officially registered Rosie for homeschooling in Victoria and are in the process of negotiating 3 days a week of formal schooling for her at our lovely local school.

As I've written before, this is not a common approach in our neighbourhood, nor do I know anyone else who does this, but it feels right to me. And despite pushing those feelings aside for quite a while now, this passion to school my girls at home still knocks at my heart and I can ignore it no longer.

Thus....we have begun lessons for the year, starting today, with a look at our yearly calendar. It's part planning-part learning about the yearly cycles we live by, but either way an important way of looking at the world as both a natural cycle and a period of time during which we can manifest our desires. With a yearly plan on the wall (see photo below) I can help Rosie, and all of us, to look ahead with increased clarity and balance.

This was a fun learning experience together and I'm looking forward to further learning adventures next week.

Peace Mamas...

Our 'new' homeschooling space with Great Nan's old table

The yearly calendar - days, weeks, months, seasons, solstices and equinoxes, birthdays and holidays all on show.

Writing practice on the new kitchen table - so lovely to be working on wood.