Our Teresa moved through worlds of love. She was born out of great love, cherished by her parents and her family throughout her lifetime. In her bones and from an early age, she knew that as one of her favorite poets, e.e. cummings, said, “love is the whole and more than all.”  She carried that love forward, dedicating her life to its study and practice.

She followed her heart and, in doing so, gave us permission to do the same.

She approached every task, no matter how mundane, with presence and awareness.

She brought that same fullness of presence and gentleness to every interaction. She listened intently and with curiosity and an open heart, and she provided her loved ones with encouragement, acceptance, and unconditional love.

It was a gift to all of us to spend time with her and to hear her stories.

Any message she conveyed about spirituality was always grounded in her core belief that God is love, which gave us the message that we, too, were divine beings worthy of love.

And as we sought our own spiritual paths, Teresa provided space for our reflections, questions, and discoveries, always encouraging us to follow our hearts. She gave us the sense that the possibilities for spiritual exploration and growth were limitless.

She also shared her reverence for the natural world and her belief in the interconnectedness of all beings. She believed that we all have a responsibility to care for the earth and its creatures, which she did in her daily life, inspiring us to do the same.

And in the end, when everything else fell away, she taught us the value of enjoying life’s simple pleasures to their fullest – the light from a ray of sun, the softness of a kitty’s snuggles, the warmth of a wood fire, the beauty of golden leaves, the comfort provided by the touch or voice of a loved one.

Teresa’s profound wisdom, unwavering acceptance, and embodiment of divine love touched us all. We mourn the loss of her physical presence, which leaves a great hole in our lives. But we also know she will always be within us – in our lineage, in our bones, in our hearts.

We will continue to carry her message of love forward, sharing her stories and practicing loving one another every day as best we can.

We love you, Teresa, and we will carry your heart in our hearts always. We will never truly be without you.

Teresa & her kitty, Yoda

In the beginning, there was a kernel of knowing that you needed to be brought forth into the world. But there was also much fear and doubt to overcome before the trust that brought you into existence was located.

Through that trust and love, you burst forth into being as a tiny seed. As you have grown, these last nine months, doubt & fear have visited often and it has taken work and presence to regain trust in the knowing that this is, and YOU are, meant to be. You, on the other hand, have known this from the start.

Will I be enough for two? This is the question so often on my mind when I allow myself to wallow in doubt. Can I maintain the presence and patience with two that I am capable of with one? When I am tired and overwhelmed, I know how easy it is for me to lose touch with both presence and patience. And yet, these qualities feel essential to the way I want to raise these two precious children. They feel central to my ability to continue to cultivate the creative, contemplative, joyful way of life that we’ve forged as a family so far.

I do not set out to create an impossible standard for myself, but to name what it is that we have created and that I long to maintain, with the addition of you, little unknown one. We have built a sweet world together, your papa, big brother, and I, and so much love awaits you and your entry into it. When we are grounded in trust, we all know that you will be folded into our world and we will find our way through the challenges and joy that will inevitably be a part of our new life together.

I am in the final days of pregnancy now, in the throes of the unknown – waiting, waiting, waiting for a sign that the time for your arrival has come. This whole journey is so wild and mysterious — growing you inside me; waiting for you and my body and the forces of nature to decide when the process of labor and birth will begin; not knowing what time of day labor will start, how long it will last, or what it will look or feel like; and then meeting you – a new and nearly unknown member of our family who we will love instantly and enormously.

It is all too much for the mind to comprehend. My heart can feel it, though. And when I rest in my heart, I feel completely at peace, without fear, and ready.

From that place, I call you forward, little one. I am ready when you are.

I haven’t written in a long time. In part, I think it’s because I’ve felt hesitant to write openly about homeschooling. It feels really vulnerable. But I’d like to write more instead of less, and if I’m going to do that, homeschooling will be a part of it, because it is so intimately woven into the fabric of our days. So, here’s a glimpse into our homeschool life via one day at the start of this “school year.” And, of course, anything I write wouldn’t be complete without including some of my internal struggles, this time around this choice and what it means for me.

9/5/2018

This morning, an open day stretched out before us, deliciously free of any plans. After weeks of summer travel and adventure, family visiting from out of town, and six-year-old birthday festivities, I relished a day at home with Mattie with no plans and no schedule to confine us. While all of those events and activities were wonderful in their own ways, I’m prone to overwhelm and exhaustion in the face of so much activity and open space was just what I needed.

I wouldn’t be telling the whole story, however, if I didn’t also acknowledge that the open day felt a bit daunting.

We began the day quietly, as we often do. While Ken and I drank our morning coffee and connected, Mattie built with Magna-tiles on the floor nearby. This particular structure was quite complex, with many levels and rooms for his toy animals, and he was clearly enjoying the creative process, deeply engaged in imaginative play.

As I tried to settle in to enjoy this sweet time as a family, I noticed anxiety beginning to creep into my chest. “What are you doing here?” my insides screamed. “Why, today of all days, must you visit me?!”

At first, I tried to push the anxiety down and will it away, but ignoring negative feelings of any kind rarely gets me anywhere. So, I took a deep breath and sat quietly for a moment, investigating its source. It didn’t take long to find. Since Ken was preparing to leave for work for the day, I would soon be left alone with Mattie. After so many days filled with activity, I found myself feeling afraid of slowing down, wondering what we would do to fill the minutes and hours with no plan.

But there was also another layer to it. While for us it was just another day at home learning together in our fluid homeschool environment, much of the rest of the world went back to school this week. And I’ve noticed that at least temporarily at this time of year, this kicks up a pressure system within me. I feel the weight the expectations of the outside world pile onto me, which can have the effect of subtly altering my own expectations for our days together.

Am I doing enough, I often wonder?

With a deeper understanding of the source of the tightness in my chest, I found that I could be with it all more gently and breathe easier. I came into the present moment with Mattie and gave myself a pep talk.

You know how to do this. All you have to do is be here in this moment, show up, follow the interests and needs that pop up, and trust that the day will unfold naturally.

And, amazingly, it did.

After first playing together and talking about our day a little bit, we decided to pack for our last camping trip of the season. Mattie was amazingly enthusiastic about the task, seriously engaged in making our packing list and putting each item in its proper place in our tiny camper trailer. He was (a little surprisingly) truly helpful!

While we packed, we talked about our previous camping trips.  The trouble we’d had starting campfires came up, given how wet the ground was from all the recent rain. I brought up the idea of making some kind of fire starter, hopeful that we might have all the necessary supplies at home. We searched the web for ideas and came up with an option that required only egg cartons, dryer lint, and candle wax. Bingo! This was our next project. As we experimented with the best tools to break apart old candles, and then melted wax, stuffed egg cartons with lint, and poured in the colorful liquefied wax, I smiled to myself as I tallied up all the simple scientific principles and problem-solving methods we were exploring.

At one point in the midst of this activity Mattie looked up at me and asked with curiosity and some incredulity, “Momma, is this part of our homeschool??”

I smiled and enthusiastically confirmed that it sure was, and he grinned from ear to ear.

Given that Mattie is six now, a number of his friends are starting school. So, as he’s been thinking and asking about that, we’ve been talking a lot about what makes up our homeschool and how this choice has been a natural fit for our family. We’ve also been asking him what he’s interested in learning about and making plans together to explore his interests. When we have these conversations, he gets really excited about all of the possibilities and we come up with long lists of things to do together, at home and out in the world, either just us or with others in our extended family, our friend circles, the greater homeschool community, or our community at large.

While he’s curious about what school might be like, he’s delighted to be at home playing and learning at his own pace, and we find no shortage of things to explore. For now, anyway – we’re taking it one year at a time. While there are certainly days that are challenging, making the choice to allow Mattie the space to move at his own pace and direct his learning experiences (with input and guidance from us, of course) is highly satisfying and rewarding for all of us right now. And, we realize how privileged we are to be able to make this choice…

But, I digress from the story of our day.

As we sat back to admire our finished fire starters, we heard mowing and grinding noises coming from the vacant land behind our house. I panicked, thinking that perhaps today could be the day that all the trees would be cut down to prepare for the new development slated to begin. We rushed outside to witness whatever was about to occur, but, thankfully, it was only a landscape crew mowing. We were both relieved that the land behind our home would remain wild for at least one more day.

While we were in the field, we checked on our milkweed patch but didn’t find any new Monarch eggs or caterpillars. We talked about how this Monarch habitat would soon be destroyed by construction vehicles, and Mattie came up with the idea to collect some of the milkweed pods to spread seeds in other places around our home. Though I wasn’t sure the seeds were ready, I supported the attempt, finding solace in taking some action to replace this precious habitat.

He enthusiastically took on the mission to save the Monarchs, spreading seed all around our yard and the adjacent railroad corridor. As Mattie was spreading seeds in our herb garden (possibly a questionable location to plant milkweed…), I heard him squeal and then exclaim, “MOMMA! Swallowtail caterpillars!!!”.

Before long, he found five good-sized Swallowtail caterpillars on our parsley – the second batch we’d found this season. They were all striped in bright shades of yellow, green, black, and white. Mattie pointed out that this meant that they must have molted several times already since in their first two molts the coloring and patterning on their skin looks completely different (black, white, and orange).

Young Swallowtail caterpillar

Older swallowtail caterpillar

 “Can we raise them?!?” he asked, looking at me with big eyes filled with hope.

After considering for a moment — at first uncertain about taking on this extra responsibility — I agreed with a smile, unable to resist his infectious excitement.

And so, we gathered Black Swallowtail caterpillars and created homes for them made from glass jars covered with cheesecloth, filled with fresh parsley to eat. I wondered aloud whether these might be the babies of the butterflies we raised and released earlier in the season. We both giggled at the thought.  We’ve cared for and released more than a dozen butterflies and moths of various species this summer, learning about the diet of each so that we knew where to look for them and then what to feed them, and watching in awe as they grew and molted, formed their chrysalis or cocoon, and transformed into an altogether different creature.  We’ve learned so much together in the process!

Finally, when all our caterpillars were comfortable in their new homes, we found ourselves ready to rest, too. We snuggled into the couch together to read, eager to find out what happened next in our new favorite chapter book series. It is historical fiction written for children by Louise Erdrich, and the first book is called The Birchbark House. The story centers around an Ojibwa family who lived on Madeline Island in the mid-1800s. The main character is a seven-year-old girl named Omakayas (Little Frog), and the story follows she and her family as they move from one location to another to harvest maple sugar, then wild rice, then plant their summer garden, and finally to the cabin they return to each winter on Madeline Island. Eventually, they are forced to move off of their homeland, and the story continues to follow them into life on the plains. It’s loosely based on the history of the authors’ own family, and it’s a really nice compliment to reading the Little House series, hearing from the Native American perspective about life at a similar time in history. Given the reality of the time, some of the content is intense and painful, but the violence is not overdone, and Mattie is enthralled by the storyline. He asks to return to these stories repeatedly during our days together and then acts out the scenes in his play as he processes the content. It’s a stunning thing to witness.

And I am thoroughly enjoying reading these books together, along with the conversations that they bring up. They have led to larger conversations about race and privilege, immigration, gender roles…I could go on and on. And we continue to find more books that help support delving deeper into these topics.

Yep, this is our homeschool.

It’s true that not every day is as ease-filled and magical as this one, but it is days like this that remind me of how much he IS learning, and that we ARE doing enough.

Swallowtail butterfly

Swallowtail

Monarch caterpillar

Monarch making the “J” shape right before forming its chrysalis

Mattie caring for one of his female Monarch butterflies