I've been keeping up with Sharon over at Casaubon's Book, who wrote this beautiful post on dreaming a garden into being. Woebegone gardener tho I am, she almost has me convinced to start digging once more.
And I couldn't agree more with her conclusion:
... without a vision, without a dream, without asking that question “what do you see” we can’t begin to make it into something real.
I have an art studio in my garage now, remember, that came into being on the wings of a vision.
And a book.
And a life.
Which reminds me. I write so little that is specifically about unschooling in this blog and my usual explanation is that our entire lives are about unschooling. But sometimes things come up that perfectly illuminate our unschooling world. Like yesterday, when the house was filled with the lilt of Dragonstar on her tinwhistle, one of the sweetest sounds from one of the sweetest instruments ever created. Her music-making was born in solitary moments when she was left alone to figure things out, and it learned to walk among music-making friends who welcomed her and let her find her way among the notes within the safety of their group.
Not everyone needs or wants formal instruction. Not everyone needs to be told "go practice."
There you go. Unschooling.
Speaking of which, and in tandem with Sharon's poetic vision about gardens, I read some recent posts from my friend and fellow unschooler Ren Allen that gave me not just food but a feast for thought. First was "Wild and Precious." A taste:
Right here under my feet there is earth to till and above me stars to inspire awe. There are children who need parents and trees that need saving. There is more here than we can take in. And people are worried about college?
Then came an article co-written for a German magazine called Unerzogen, in which Ren writes about her son:
I knew without a shred of doubt that therapy and schooling would shatter my child's vision of himself, make him doubt where there was only confidence, create "broken" where there was "whole". I couldn't do it. So on dark days when I wasn't the best mother in that moment, or I wondered if we were indeed doing him a disservice by not seeking out more (more of what I'm not sure) I found that quiet confidence born of tapping into community. Yes, that online community of words and thoughts given by strangers oft times. Strangers who had faith that their child needed no labels, needed no "fix" but needed the same trust that all children deserve.Do yourself a kindness and read Ren's article and post, and Sharon's vision. If they don't get you ready to embrace the day, I don't know what will.
As for me, I am forever in awe of, inspired by, and grateful to, this amazing online community.