Rarely can a modern work (in my opinion) truly capture the nature of Myth. Often, even when dealing with myth, modern takes focus on some self-reflective symbolism, or even skirt the mythology altogether to decide that myth is really about our own internal monologue/hallucination or something. A review I recently read about the film Big Fish (originally based on a novel) decided that this tale is ultimately about the fine line between face and fiction. Okay, maybe, but I would argue that it is so much more than that, if you have eyes to see. For those of you that haven’t read the book or seen the film, I’ll attempt to describe why I believe this can be such a wonderful gateway to reevaluating the nature of Reality, and why I think it can even be seen as a story about our relationship with the Divine…without too many spoilers.

The story of Big Fish begins with an estranged father and son. The father is a storyteller, and the son is over it. He feels he doesn’t truly Know his father because the only stories he’s heard about his life are too mythic to believe. There are giant fish, witches, prophecy, floods, a cloud cuckoo land turned wasteland, and plenty of trouble with Time. The son wants to know who his father really is, and his father believes he has spent his life telling him exactly that. There is no way for him to tell his story a different way. Through the son’s eager and open-minded wife (who is pregnant with a son - I’ll find the symbolism there by looking along the beam1), we experience the story anew as the father relates it all on his deathbed. The son is…annoyed at his wife’s enthusiasm, and would like her to join him in rejecting any stories not based in Science and Fact. It is only at the end of his father’s life, when through love the son finally decides to take up the torch and continue the story until his father finally passes, that the son can see. What that means, you’ll have to experience the story for yourself to understand.

Through this story, I believe we are faced with one of the most important questions of our day. What is Reality? How do we determine what is True, and is Myth another name for a lie? In the son we see our modern materialist mindset: Truth can only be determined by facts. If something isn’t conceivable, tangible, or measurable, it is therefore a lie. It is through the father that we learn something different, hearkening back to the ancient view of Story as a Truth-telling device. Myth isn’t merely symbol or exaggeration, but a way of conveying an idea that is truer than true. The father can never convey to his son who really is in the way that the son desires, because that isn’t who the father is: “I've been nothin' but myself since the day I was born, and if you can't see that it's your failin', not mine.” Again, looking along the beam, I think we can find the connection between this father and ours. For those seeking an answer to Creation and Meaning through facts and figures while denying myth and story, finding what you’re looking for will prove difficult, if not impossible. It is only through accepting that the myth is the realest reality that the son, and we, can more clearly see the Truth.

If you aren’t familiar with Big Fish and decide to read or watch it (preferably both!) let me know what you think afterwards! This was actually the movie my now-husband and I watched on our first date because he said he wanted to watch my favorite movie. Smooth.

If you’re unfamiliar with The Night of the Hunter and why someone could come away from a 50s horror movie with newfound inspiration in motherhood, don’t worry! I will attempt to make this all clear without any major spoilers (though since this movie is 70 years old, I will take some liberties).

Here’s what you need to know: John and Pearl are children who have been given the immense responsibility by their father before his passing to not ever share with anyone (including their own mother) the location of his hidden stolen money. As money is a great temptation to man, they are harassed and intimidated by a psychopath, and great acts of bravery, betrayal, bad parenting, and creepy takes on classic hymns ensue. A whole other post could be dedicated to big (relatively speaking, this kid cannot be more than 10) brother John and how responsibility, oaths, love, and honor play into the imagination of young boys, but that is a topic for another day.

Without spoiling with too many details, John eventually leads little sister Pearl on a Hansel and Gretel-esque journey which lands them under the protection of Miss Cooper, an older lady who already has three young charges who are not her own. For one reason or another, she has voluntarily taken on the responsibility of housing, clothing, feeding, and (most importantly) discipling several children in the midst of the Great Depression. So, what does this Miss Cooper have to teach us? A great deal, in my mind, but I’ll try to limit her wisdom to just three virtues.

1. Generosity and industriousness despite limited means

   Despite a Depression-era backdrop, Miss Cooper unhesitatingly takes on each new child as they come. Before the children reach her, they first encounter a woman who is giving baked potatoes away to roaming children. She clearly pities them, but turns them away despite learning they are all alone in the world. Understandable, considering the limited means of many families of the time, but not apparently not a concern for Miss Cooper. From the first, with zero knowledge of how these kids came to be at her door, she simply orders the girls in her care to help clean them up, as though she’s been a mother to them their whole lives. She does not ever press them to tell her who they are past their name, nor does she even consider turning them away. They are alone, they are there, therefore they are hers. She doesn’t complain or despair about more mouths to feed, but puts them to work and works harder herself to do what needs to be done.

2. Respect for the least of these

   Several times throughout the film, different adults have the opportunity to listen to what John has to say and take it seriously. Time and time again, the adults in his life refuse to hear him, call him a liar, and dismiss anything he has to say. Miss Cooper is then given a similar opportunity to respect the child, or to dismiss him outright and deliver him over to the adult that others have deemed Good simply because he is an Adult. She hears this adult out, then turns to John to hear his side, something almost no adult before her has even cared to do.

Miss Cooper: John, ain’t you going to say hello to your pa?

John: He’s not my pa!

Miss Cooper: No, and he ain’t no preacher, neither!

That’s it. Game over. For Miss Cooper, the child is to be protected and loved, not pushed into blind obedience no matter what. Her philosophy on children in a nutshell:

Lord, save little children. You'd think the world would be ashamed to name such a day as Christmas for one of them and then go on in the same old way. My soul is humble when I see the way little ones accept their lot. Lord, save little children. The wind blows and the rain's a-cold. Yet they abide. They abide and they endure.

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3. A deep and living faith, with a storied foundation

Miss Cooper is a woman after my own story-loving heart. She could moralize, she could read didactic stories, she could start quoting Scripture. But instead, Miss Cooper teaches using the language of children. She is a teller of stories. She sees these children. She rocks in her chair, does her needlework, and tells a tale about baby Moses. Tells a story about Jesus’ sermon on the mount. She obviously knows her Bible well; so well that she can read the heart of her little charges and think of just the story they need to hear. No moral at the end, no lectures. Just a story to reach their soul.

BONUS (because she’s just too great): She loves so well, and unconditionally

There are other children that Miss Cooper watches over, and one of them is old enough to make some pretty poor choices. Simply speaking, her loves and desires are disordered. Miss Cooper hears her folly, and instead of admonishing, the first thing that needs to be done is that this child needs to be held. She speaks the truth, but she does so with such grace and understanding that you could not help but know that this woman loves you and has your best interest at heart. Discipling with love first instead of anger is a hard skill, and she has it down to a true art.

May we all aspire to Miss Cooper’s virtues. Her words are my new motto:

I'm a strong tree with branches for many birds. I'm good for something in this world, and I know it too.

She has a beautiful life. Slow and simple days at home with the toddler (just one so far), reading books, making crafts, drinking espresso, set to some gentle music. I think I like this little life.

Automatic follow. This girl has a great vibe, maybe I’ll glean some wisdom from her content? She seems like she’s got it all figured out.

The only problem: this girl is 23 years old.

How did we get here? How did a generation of moms in their 30s decide that the best place to put their trust in homemaking and homeschooling was…into the hands of a mom of one small child?

The algorithm is built for this. We crave beauty and aesthetics because we’re human, and the machine is happy to provide it in a neat little empty, easy to digest package. No critical thinking necessary.

Who are these girls? What do we really know about them? All we see is someone well-dressed, living a picture perfect life with their seemingly docile kids, set to dreamy music. This is the idyll that moms all dream of, right? But it’s a fantasy. And not even the well-written kind.

Somewhere between looking for homeschooling tips and advice on managing toddler meltdowns, we get caught in this trap. Social media is not built to promote meaningful conversations or wise counsel. It is designed to give you a hit of something pretty, but ultimately shallow. So you’re offered a “reel” from someone who:

1. Knows how to film well

2. Pushes content out. A lot.

3. Is usually pretty

4. Has nice stuff

5. Talks about her nice stuff. A lot.

What draws you in initially is probably not the stuff. It’s usually something that may feel meaningful in the moment, especially when you’re exhausted and searching for some small inspiration.

Romanticize your life.

Simple joys.

Intentional crafts with littles.

This cat poster of mom inspiration feels so nourishing in the moment, because many moms are feeling lost at how to even do this parenting thing. Even when you have multiple kids, it’s easy to still feel like you’re feeling your way through motherhood in the dark.

So you follow these moms. They’re mostly harmless, and truly I believe most mean well. But underlying that shiny veneer of perfectly slow days with your little ones are a few pertinent truths:

• These moms have been doing this job for less time than you. Often they have less kids.

• These moms’ parenting methods are entirely new, untested, and utterly romantic.

• And most importantly - These influencer moms with nice cameras and good marketing skills are not better mothers because of their higher follower count. They are just moms, figuring it all out like the rest of us. Let’s say it again: Influencer status and popularity does not determine wisdom or value.

Unfortunately, life can sometimes still feel like high school, even for grown women. We want to feel like we’re on the right path. We want to feel we belong. We even want to have a name for the clique we’re a part of, so we know how to define ourselves.

So if the girl I follow with the house plants and water coloring toddlers has army pants and flip flops, I’m definitely going to add some army pants and flip flops to my Amazon cart.

Except now in grown-up mom world, it’s not about the pants (unless they’re baggy and 100% linen).

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Dresses and curriculum and stuff we don’t need

How do we achieve those perfectly meticulous yet effortless, slow and simple days? Why, you need the right stuff!

If your life isn’t feeling quite romantic enough, you may need an expensive espresso machine, or a $400 dress…times an entire wardrobe.

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If your days are feeling too chaotic, then you probably should look at curricula for toddlers! (Never before in the history of planet earth do I believe that mothers would’ve honestly and with all sincerity asked a 20-something mother of two kids aged 8 and 3 for her homeschool advice.)

But here we are. How did this happen?

Phone addiction? Maybe. Consumerism? Well, yes.

A modern obsession with blaming older generations for everything and generally dismissing all their advice and wisdom? That’s a whole other can of worms.

But I think a larger problem looming behind the others is the deep insecurity that mothers carry. Many of us just don’t feel confident in how we should be raising our kids or living out our everyday life. Especially if we’re trying to homeschool or stay at home with our children, having never seen this life modeled for us.

So apps give us a chance to glimpse another person’s life. It may be an idealized and unrealistic snapshot, but it’s something to cling to. It’s a target to aim at. And once a mom-influencer has convinced you through enough aesthetics, confidence, and inspirational photo carousels that she’s an authority on creating a home, she can then convince you to buy almost anything. It doesn’t matter that she’s your age. It almost does not cross our minds that her life is not our life. All that matters is that her days look nicer.

Opening someone’s Amazon storefront becomes your gateway to a life. If you just buy the right crayons, books, dresses, and mold-free coffee (using the right link of course) you too can have perfect days where dreamy music seems to follow you wherever you go.

If you just follow the parenting script created and tested by someone with a whole 5 years in experience parenting, you will avoid all meltdowns, tantrums, disagreements, and tears, forever.

You Can Even, and So Can Your Elders

My prescription? Honestly, get off any image or video based platform. Like, yesterday. No, it’s not your community. No, you don’t get great inspiration there. I’ve heard it before, I’ve said it before! Yawn. It’s just categorically untrue.

Next, breathe a sigh of relief. If you abstain from the high school cafeteria that is social media for a week, I guarantee you’ll see it as it truly is.

Now seek out real wisdom, from real people, who actually know what they’re talking about.

Read books about education written by veteran homeschoolers and teachers. Listen to podcasts with hosts over the age of 40 (at least). Go talk to older people at church or in your community and ask them their advice. Take it, leave it, just listen to it. I promise that many older people are actually quite wise even though they’re not well versed in gentle parenting lingo.

Then, live your real life. Shop your own closet, or buy a dress because it’s what you like, not because you saw 10 influencers mention it.

Figure out your family’s values, your hobbies, your quirks. Start really delighting in those things, and slowly tackle the little tough things that come with discipling and raising children.

If we really want to create a home, we need to start taking full responsibility. Mothering is not about trying to fulfill some ideal we see online. It’s not about buying all the right things or trying to look a certain way.

Truly fulfilling motherhood comes from taking the baton of this sacred duty from those who have gone before us, and harmonizing their wisdom with our family culture to create a home to be proud of. We are absolutely capable of doing that without turning to the advice of those who just make it look nice. Your family wants you, not an aesthetic.

Thanks for being here! Consider subscribing (free of course) to get more of my ranting and raving.

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Humans are interesting creatures. At once creatures of habit, and creatures of adventure. Some of us may sway one way or the other, but I believe all of us are at least in some part Took and Baggins. We want the trip, but afterwards the snugness of home. We want to read all the books, discover new music, but often put on the same playlist or reach for Pride & Prejudice for the thousandth time. But if we don’t read the new book or learn the new song, if we read the same fairytale aloud again because it’s being begged for, are we missing out? Are we depriving our kids and ourselves every time we do the same thing over again?

I think we tend to equate new knowledge with better knowledge. If we did not know it before, then it is always a good idea to know it now, right? In some cases, that may be true. But I really believe through watching my kids soak in the things they’ve seen and heard a million times that the real knowledge comes from what we inhabit. The things we integrate into our very souls.

I may read a book about history and retain some portion of it. Sure, I’ve come away with more information, but it is not a part of who I am in the same way as the hymns I have popping in and out of my head all day long. Any new fingerplay I try to learn just doesn’t stick the same way as “here is the church, here is the steeple…” in my mind in my granny’s voice. As the kids and I go over it together, I can picture her hands wiggling the people about inside the church. Any Orthodox Christian knows that on a given Sunday, the priest’s homily can be very convicting, but the words simply don’t have the impression of St John Chrysostom’s Paschal homily. When you hear the same powerful words every year, those are the ones that leave a mark. Those are the ones that you turn to for solace.

O Death, where is your sting?
O Hell, where is your victory?

Christ is risen, and you are overthrown.
Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen.
Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice.
Christ is risen, and life reigns.
Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in the grave.

I can recite those lines with our priest now, after hearing it for something like 8 years in a row. It lives within me. I can read any number of new theology books, but the ideas therein may drift out of my head as soon as they entered in. They may be important ideas worth reading, but that doesn’t make the ideas I’ve already heard countless times any less important for their familiarity.

We are what we do, but we are even more so what we do over and over

I can remember the guisados my mom made growing up, but not the random meals she tried maybe once or twice. I am being shaped by hymns I hear week after week for years, but I could not tell you the words to a hymn I heard one time 10 years ago.

My daughter asked me this week “Why do you sing the same songs to Jasper (her baby brother) every time he goes to sleep?” My answer to her in the moment was “because they are short and pretty.” But upon reflection, I realized the reasons go far deeper than that. I sing them because they are Good. I sing them because I want my kids to know them, really know songs like Lavender’s Blue, and the best way for them to know them is for them to hear these songs 3 times a day. I sing them because when I sing I’ll Be Seeing You and The Parting Glass, I think of my dad. I remember the last time I saw him alive, not long for this world, and I sang to him because I didn’t know what else to do. Repetition doesn’t dull a thing. It gives us the opportunity to love it even more by the memories we’ve connected with it along the way. The things we do over and over give us the chance to be constantly connected to the past and to the people we love. New things may be lovely, interesting, or even moving, but they won’t conjure up the smell in the kitchen when your mother played certain songs, or the feeling of dancing dramatically through your granny’s living room, enveloped in her full attentive love, the first time you heard music from The Nutcracker.

Later that day, I overheard my daughter humming Lavender’s Blue to herself as she got her dolls dressed. That is why I sing the same songs over and over. Monotony isn’t a drudgery to be avoided. Thrills and novelty aren’t what shapes us. Ordo amoris is borne out of the things that we contemplate so often, or which shape our atmosphere so persistently, that they now dwell within us.

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There is so much out there to see and learn and know, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of really knowing something in that relational way that allows us to be formed by it. In the same way that we don’t (I hope) seek out a new spouse every year for the sake of novelty, we also should not eschew that which we can continue to love, grapple with, and learn from over the course of our whole lives.

“I read it every year or two. Each time it's different. It tells me different things.”- Definitely, Maybe (yes I’m quoting a rom-com. No regrets.

A last thought about what we choose for ourselves. In the movie quoted above, the woman has a rather large collection of Jane Eyre. She has so many copies because she’s in a constant search for the one her father gave her before he died, but also because she knows that something good and formational is not necessarily the same thing twice. A great way to determine whether we are being formed by Good things is to ask ourselves “Should I read this again? Is this worth listening to every day?” If the answer is no, then maybe it would be helpful to seek out something new that is worth returning to over and over.

There are a great many things in this world that are worth learning, which we will never get to. There are things we haven’t discovered yet that we should seek out because God in his infinite creativity and love for us has made such a beautiful and varied world. You never know when you will come across a new idea, a new piece of art, a song you’ve never heard, which still reach out and strike you in a way you haven’t experienced before. But next time you feel like you must continue onto the next book on the TBR list, you must try the new recipe, you must learn the new language right now…I hope you stop and remember that we were created for relationship. And we can even have a relationship with the inanimate things we consume. Our human imagination brings those things to life and allows them to become a part of us and our story. We are what we love. So don’t feel ashamed to return to your loves over and over (and over) again.

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By now, we well know the roots that Technology™ has managed to implant deep inside our individual and collective subconscious. Its effects are pervasive and, let’s say, oft nefarious. The cult of the black mirror has changed the way we do nearly everything. Relax, entertain, parent, relate, communicate, learn, assimilate information…what realm of our lives isn’t colored by our interactions with a fairly innocuous-looking device? But benign, those of us paying attention know it is not. We have shorter attention spans, more superficial relationships, less time for real creative pursuits (even while time spent “saving” inspiration for creative pursuits may skyrocket), and less attention for those around us. To say the least.

If this is not the outcome we want, and we wish to return to a more human way of living…how exactly would we go about that endeavor? Inspired by the work of Gideon Heugh in Twelve tools for reversing brain rot (Part II of The dumbening, which is also well worth a read), I decided to take a look at what some of our (or maybe just my) personal motivations may be for engaging in certain online activities, in the hopes that in defining those little micro-triggers, we may undertake to redirect those little subconscious impulses towards the Good. Take what may serve you, leave the rest, and let’s journey back towards humanity again, together.

“As short as life is, we make it shorter by the careless waste of time” - Victor Hugo

Rehumanizing the desires of our heart

• The Impulse: Posting a photo of our lives - what we are reading, a funny or sweet moment, a beautiful place - in order to connect with people online.

  • The Redirect: Take a moment to share the book title with a friend, maybe with a quote that you think may resonate with them. Invite them to read along with you so that you can discuss your thoughts together afterwards! Tell them your little story. Ask how their day is going. Send a photo to a parent, or even a relative you don’t always communicate with. Share those moments with your children’s grandparents, Godparents, aunts, uncles, etc. Start a family group chat with the members who you know would love to hear about your lives, where everyone can connect even if far away.

• The Impulse: Sharing a photo so that others see you having an adventure, being a great parent, or to see that you are very very smart and interesting.

  • The Redirect: “Lord, Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Put down the phone, and move on.

• The Impulse: Scrolling for inspiration for: crafts, homeschool, parenting, life

  • The Redirects

    • Idea 1: Dedicate a time that you will spend looking for and through your saved posts. I have quite a few saved pins on Pinterest that I will let myself go through on a Sunday while I’m doing my planning, to write down what I’ll need. I usually then also open it to a regular browser tab so that if I need to go back to instructions, specific lists, or anything else I’ll need to reference later, I’m not just rejoining the infinite media loop and temptation to scroll until I forget what I was doing in the first place. In the future, my plan is to start printing the best of the best, the ideas I keep going back to from various online sources, and keeping them in a binder. Analog. The other tip here is to be honest with yourself about what you’re really going to do. I think we’re all guilty of scrolling for a long time, saving lots of activities and recipes that look great, to never revisit the idea ever again.

    • Idea 2: Do a search for books on whatever skill you’re trying to learn (crochet, watercolor, bike mechanics) and add them to wish lists. Learn, slowly, by taking it a page at a time.

    • Idea 3: Seek out sages in your community for wisdom. (This one has the added human benefit of actual real-life connections!) Libraries often offer clubs for learning skills like knitting. Ask around at church for who is a skilled gardener, who graduated their children from homeschool, who is the best baker. This is how our ancestors learned and grew; by watching and participating with those around them.

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• The Impulse: Online shopping

  • The Redirect: Set a time that you’ll spend thinking, really considering what you may need. Look through your home to see what you already have. Will something you own work? You may even find the kids sweater size you’re looking for in a bin in the garage! Ask me how I know. Cross out what you found, and move on to the rest. What would be the ideal, if you were to find that item today? Would it be the polyester dress in a pattern you don’t particularly like, but it was on sale? Or maybe if you had your druthers, it would be a simple cotton dress you know you’ll use often and will hold up well for years. Do you really want the cheap Ikea desk, or would you rather have a well cared for vintage piece that can serve another family indefinitely? Once you know what you truly care about, it’ll be easier to hold off on scrolling. Then, and only then, should you start seeking out what you need. Maybe allow yourself twice a week, with a timer, check Facebook Marketplace, Etsy, eBay, etc. based on the list you’ve made. Now you’ll have clarity, direction, and be able to not press add to cart something you don’t particularly need.

  • A Note: Sometimes we cannot do the ideal thing. We need something yesterday, we really don’t have the ability to choose the best option but really need the most economical, and that’s okay! We do the best we can with what time and resources we’ve been given to steward. In these moments, we can still try to be as human as possible. FB Marketplace usually does have someone letting go of something now, and affordably. If that’s not an option, we can still exercise the thoughtful note-taking, making sure we know what we’re looking for, and then look for that specific thing with as little mindless scrolling as possible. Might I suggest that we are all capable individuals, perfectly able to go from point A (this is the thing I need) to point B (this thing looks right, has reasonably good reviews, I will choose this) without needing to consult an “influencer”- curated list of what they use, and you must have. Technology™ has convinced us that if you are good-looking, have a bubbly or peaceful personality, and have a nice home/nice clothes, that makes you some sort of expert tastemaker. Once you divorce yourself from social media, it is nothing short of remarkable how quickly you will disavow yourself of this ludicrous fallacy.

• The Impulse: To look something up. Right now.

  • The Redirect: We used to, as humans, sit with ignorance for a while. Really, up until quite recently. We saw a word we didn’t know, we heard something we hadn’t before, and we said “huh, interesting.” We did not have the illimitable power of Google (or the brain-eroding power of AI) to answer all of our questions immediately. We can admit that the ability to obtain information more quickly is something of a blessing, while also remaining within the realms of humanity. Get a small notebook, or two. One about a5 for home to be kept in a central location, and a pocket sized for out and about use. When you encounter a word you don’t know, a reference to something, or your child asks you to explain something inexplicable by your own knowledge, write it down. At the end of the day when you have alone time to spare, start looking up those answers, definitions, etc. and write them down next to your notes. Writing helps us retain information! If your child is consistently asking about the same subject, check out a book on it from the library. Find a video about it on YouTube (get it pulled up ahead of time, don’t try to navigate this in front of the kids, or there will be requests for kids videos instead).

• The Impulse: Saving poems and quotes…that you’ll probably never look at again

  • The Redirect: Start keeping a commonplace! This can be as simple as getting a notebook (ask my husband, I’m big on notebooks) and just writing down anything beautiful or good. I have two: one for bible verses and Saint quotes, and another catch-all for anything philosophical or literary (poems, quotes from great books, new vocabulary…) This is not meant as a space for adding your own thoughts like a journal, but rather as a place for thoughts that are, if we will admit it, probably better or more eloquent than our own. The beauty of a commonplace is that one day, Lord willing, it will be a keepsake for our children so that they can get a glimpse into the things that touched us and shaped us.

With that, I want to close with a quote from my own commonplace, from a man who proves that someone writing over a century ago can connect with us as though they are beside us, helping us grapple with (and find humor in) our current reality.

“There is not really any courage at all in attacking hoary or antiquated things, any more than in offering to fight one’s grandmother. The really courageous man is he who defies tyrannies as young as the morning and superstitions fresh as the first flowers…He cares as little for what will be as for what has been; he cares only for what ought to be.” - G.K. Chesterton

If you haven’t seen the movie About Time, you need to. Really, you do. Then circle back here, and you’ll completely understand my little sub-heading. If you know nothing about it, Domnhall Gleeson (of Bill Weasley fame) finds out soon after his 21st birthday from his father (the great Bill Nighy) that the men in their family have the ability to travel in time. Raucous hilarity may be expected, but does not ensue. Love does, but spoiler, this movie is not about finding your true love. It is about ripping your heart out until your loves, and your time, are rightly ordered.

Now, onto the Spoilers Section:

When I first saw this movie with my husband several years ago, we thought it would be a fun and silly rom com that would pass the evening in a tolerable level of entertainment. Actors? Check. Reasonably alluring plot line? Check. Great, movie picked.

By the end, we were both in tears. I’ve since rewatched it twice: first again with my husband, then not again until my father passed. I couldn’t in between, as he was in the long process of slowly succumbing to cancer. When I knew we wouldn’t have him with us much longer, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle watching my favorite movie again. Not yet. But now finally, two months later, I decided what I needed was to watch About Time and sob alone. Then I decided that this, this film, would be my New Years Resolution. More than that, I decided I need to allow this movie to form a part of my daily moral imagination. And here’s how-

Tim wants to find true love. He does. He wants to escape embarrassing moments. He does. He wants to escape fights. He does (until he doesn’t). He wants more time with his father. He gets it. And after he’s succeeded in getting what he feels he wants out of his genetic power, his father tells him the real secret to living well with his unique blessing. He tells him to live his ordinary day once through, then go back and do it again, but this time noticing all of life’s small beauties and pleasures. The beautiful building. The friendly shop woman. The sweet moments he gets with his kids.

But then Tim decides to go even further than his father did. He stops using his power altogether. Having spent time practicing the art of noticing the beauty in the ordinary of life, even life’s more difficult or frustrating days, he decides it’s time to take the training wheels off. In the end, he no longer travels back to relive his days again, but wakes up instead each morning with the conviction that he’s going to live his day as if he’s already traveled back. As if this is the day he wanted to relive in the future.

When I get to this point in the movie, I’ve been sobbing for a while already. But this last time I rewatched it, I was reminded of the last day Tim and his father spend together. His father’s last wish is to, incredibly carefully, go back to an ordinary day in Tim’s childhood where they simply skips rocks on the beach together, father and son. His father could’ve picked a day they went into town to do something extraordinary. Or the Christmas of years past. The big game, the graduation, anything. But he doesn’t. His sweetest memory that he wants to live just one more time is any regular day with his son.

How often to do we wait to be our best selves on the weekend? At the holiday? On our vacation? If we are honest with ourselves, what day would we go back to in our childhood? For my part, I don’t think I would choose a trip to Europe or a fun birthday party. Having lost my father, I want to drive with him one more time. The 30 minute drive to granny’s on a Friday evening, where it was just me and him, singing Joni Mitchell together. Blasting Summertime by Janis Joplin because my mom hates it but we loved it.

When my kids are older, they’ll want the small days back. Who am I, in those moments? Am I being the mother I want them to look back on with fondness? I remember the places we visited in my childhood less than I remember the quiet nights at home with my parents. I struggle to picture what I did with my friends on a given summer break but I remember baking cookies at night with my dad.

So, my new years (or life?) resolution: To wake up and pretend that I have, in the future, chosen to come back to this day, whatever day that may be. What would I do or say? How would I behave towards my children and my husband, if I had deliberately chosen to relive this regular day?

I just try to live every day as if I’ve deliberately come back to this one day to enjoy it as if it was the full final day of my extraordinary, ordinary life.”

Every time I watch this movie, I’m reminded that being joyful, kind, and thankful is nothing more than a choice. We are not passive observers of life unless we choose to be. We know that we’ll face trials whether big or small, but we always have the agency to choose for ourselves how we’ll respond.

Will we curse the universe when the kids wake too early, or take them into bed to snuggle? Will we dread the errands, or seize an opportunity to listen to a favorite audiobook together or pass along our favorite music? Will we scroll for “peace” and alone time, or read an old well-loved book?

These are choices we make every single day, and they all add up to determine whether, when we lay down at night, we will say it was a terribly difficult day, or that it was quite a nice day after all. Not every day can be spectacular, or even just free from difficulties and vexations, but any day can be one we look back on as one of the sweetest of our memory.

As a stay at home mom, I may see some days as monotonous, but my children may one day remember the ordinary times we baked bread, read fairy tales on the couch, or walked around the block looking for honeysuckle.

There is beauty in every single ordinary day. We can wait until we are old to look back fondly on the day we simply collected acorns in the backyard, or we can choose to delight in it now.

We’re all travelling through time together, every day of our lives. All we can do is our best, to relish this remarkable ride.

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Children know what good stories are, if we only take care to lay plenty before them. It is not an inherent taste that propels them towards “twaddle”, the plotless and mushy stories of the world, but a lack of better examples. Note that this is NOT an indictment of parents who are raising their children on popular “children’s lit”, nor is it an attempt to seem intelligent by proxy of my own kids. Rather, understand that I am making the opposite point. Children (all children) are capable and willing to be drawn into the deep well of good stories and appreciate them over and above silly nonsense stories.

We are not a screen free family, but we do have pretty firm boundaries both in time and content. My kids have seen several Disney movies, and they have also been told all of the corresponding original fairytales. One of the things I thank myself for all the time as a parent is that I had the foresight to tell them the Grimms and Andersen tales before they ever saw the movies. They listened, they watched, and they’ve told me (unprompted) their favorites. They do both love watching movies, like most children age 5 and 2.5, but my daughter has told me on several occasions that she prefers the original Little Mermaid to the Disney version. She loves a good love song, but the original ending (the one where the prince marries another girl and the mermaid’s spirit rises into the air because she’s been granted the chance to gain entrance to heaven by her selfless love and sacrifice) is the clear winner in her five year old eyes.

Though some choose the Disneyfied stories because the originals are “too scary”, but my kids are not scared. They actively prefer those versions. Why? They’re human. So why do we? They are richer, they are more true. They are not merely fun, but inspirational. And more than that, their messages are clear. I often have conversations with my five year old daughter about the Disney fairytales and how some of the characters’ choices or resolutions don’t make a whole lot of sense, something she notices at this age because she’s already been exposed to the stories that do make sense and are indeed truer than true.

Right now, I see a lot of suggestions for watered down storybooks for parents of “sensitive children” and I get it. Of course we don’t want to frighten our kids. But upon reflection, I really don’t think both of my older kids just happened to be born without the fear center of their brain (jury’s out on the third but at almost one, I wish he were a little more afraid of climbing and pulling dogs’ tails.) In fact, my children both have a healthy fear of a great many things. People in church hearing them sing, jumping off that tall rock at the park, enormous larger-than-life lawn skeletons, and more normal kid stuff. But Blue Beard with his closet of dead wives? Play that one again! (And again.) The prince’s scratched up blind eyes in Rapunzel? Why didn’t they show that in the movie? No, it isn’t a screw loose. I’m sure my kids have many loose screws, but I’m also convinced this isn’t one of them. I trust this explanation by the great Chesterton:

“Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.”

I truly believe my kids aren’t afraid of Koschei the Deathless because they know there is a Prince Ivan to defeat him. They aren’t afraid of trolls, giants, witches, or blue-bearded wife-killers because they trust that in the end, good will triumph over evil. Is today’s generation of kids truly “sensitive”, or have we just so shielded them from any potential fear, that we’ve accidentally removed the source of courage as well?

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Anyone remember the peanut butter panic of the 90s? Okay, I don’t really, but my husband does. If you don’t, the story goes like this: Due to rising peanut allergies in children, doctors decided to advise that parents hold off on introducing peanuts to babies as long as possible. This…caused more peanut sensitivities. So, we backtracked. “Sorry, that was a mistake! To avoid peanut sensitivity, we now recommend that parents slowly introduce a small amount of peanuts when babies begin solids.” Which makes sense, right? So why don’t we extend that advice to instilling a healthy amount of courage and resilience in our kids? Instead, we have parents anxiously buying edited storybooks, or worse, telling no stories at all.

Children will have fears. As Chesterton tells us, they know bogeys exist. Children who see and hear nothing at all will imagine fearsome dragons. What they need is not fluffy silly stories about nothing to distract them from their fears, but rather tales old as time that have equipped many generations for the battle.

So, feed your children what is real. Like a nice armchair or piece of chocolate, silly stories have their place in the home. But if we wouldn’t feed our kids ice cream and fries all day every day lest they become afraid of stew and veggies, we shouldn’t do the same with their books. Read the old tales. The ones that have nourished generations before us. Cuddle them and let them hear how the brave and virtuous overcome evil and vanity. Don’t preface it with “now, this may be frightening…” but let the story do its work as it is. Your children will likely surprise you (maybe after some time to adjust) by asking for another, and still another.

(Spoiler alert for a book that’s over 200 years old)

Who would you rather be - the quick-witted, intelligent, lovable, adventurous heroine, or the love-to-hate-her, vain, insensible girl who hasn’t yet learned her own lack of wisdom? Yeah, me too. Ask me which Jane Austen heroine I’d like to be thought of as, and I’ll readily tell you that I want to be fancied a fun and witty Elizabeth Bennet or a prudent and humble Elinor Dashwood. Lord willing, I will get there someday. But for now, it is time for me to admit that I am really an Emma Woodhouse.

Look up Emma online, and you’ll see plenty of videos and blogs about how this is every woman’s least favorite Jane Austen novel. People truly love to hate this one. What does the upstanding and kind Mr. Knightley even see in Emma? (Now you just sound like Mrs. Augusta Elton. And can we all at least agree we don’t want to be an Augusta?) But here’s the thing; look up ladies re-reading Emma after several years, and you’l'l find plenty of them rethinking their position. It’s my firm belief that too many of you haven’t had your “badly done, Emma!” moment, and it shows.

I realize that in today’s society, it is not only out of the ordinary, but completely insane to think that an older man who you respect could, or should, shame you into repentance. But as someone who is married to a man 5 years older than me (nothing to Knightley’s 16 years), I can tell you that we all need a “badly done” now and again. Any other age gap couples feel me?

Over the years, I have had my moments of proverbially embarrassing Miss Bates. I’ve laughed too loud, said the wrong thing, made light of things, taken myself too seriously, shirked responsiblities, argued when I ought to have kept silent, put on airs to impress people I don’t know, spent money that should’ve been saved, and I’m sure I’ll stumble many more times over the rest of my life. At some point, we think we’ve outgrown our parents’ wisdom (or we find that our parents have overindulged us in some areas, believing us to be better in character than we really are like the doting Mr. Woodhouse.) Once that time comes, it may be that we could do with being in love, and in some doubt of a return.

What does it profit us to view ourselves as the wise and perfect heroine? What do we gain from believing ourselves to be above reproach? I’ll say it. Emma is one of my favorite novels, ever. To me, it’s completely masterful how Austen balanced Knightley’s speeches. Yes, he lectures her. But because she needs it, and because he cares.

Note: He doesn’t say “I’m sorry, I should never have lectured or blamed you. You’re dad’s right, you have no faults and I’m actually super mean” (or some lovely Georgian version of that). He says that it’s the truth, and yet admires her for bearing it and being humble enough to change. He doesn’t beat her down, he just holds up the mirror she really needs to see herself more clearly. To finally accept the way her vanity lies, and repent of it. For all you Mrs. Eltons out there, Knightley admires her for her strength in the face of constructive criticism, and her decision to be the person he knows she can be. Augusta has no such self-awareness or humility. (Maybe she would if her cara sposo [sic] loved her enough to care at all about her improvement.)

Now, a random transition to my latest mistake

I really have a problem with over-planning. My excitement over home educating definitely has a potential to leap me out of any ordo amoris, leading me to sometimes make hasty decisions, or try to overdo it. This can be best exemplified in my post about Kindy resources. If you read it and thought that was all I’ve collected for teaching a five and two year old, you don’t know the extent of my insanity. And if you thought that being in the world of Waldorf-CM-Classical homeschooling rather than school-at-home-with-flashcards made you impervious to social pressure and having too much School Stuff, you don’t know the internet.

I already had, in fact, several books that give ideas for kids crafts, songs, verses, fingerplays, etc. So why did I need a whole curriculum book precrafted for me? Honestly, probably some laziness coupled with a desire to have something Nice And Pretty™. So as part of my goal this year to improve myself in preparation for any hope of improving my children, I’m finally admitting to myself that I’m not very wise, and I’m not nearly as prudent as I wish to be.

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It’s me. Always drawing up and reorganizing lists from Shakespeare to Euclid, always listening to a podcast about reading, to avoid actually reading. Always writing down recipes and not actually trying them, always looking at curriculum and not sitting down with an imperfect plan to do what I ought. So my goal is this: Do lots of things requiring industry and patience, and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding. And maybe, just maybe, allow myself to be guided by someone who older, wiser, and more sensible than I am (most of the time.) No one wants to be an Emma, but here I am, trying at least to be a better Emma. A post-visit-to-the-Bates Emma, willing to bear fair and loving reproof. Did my Mr. Knightley ask me “why do you need this?” before I bought a set curriculum for Kindergarten? Yes, yes he did. Was my Reason primed to give some faux-sensible reply? Also yes. And…yes, he was right, I could’ve done without. That’s my bad, but also, it could’ve been avoided had I not fancied myself an accomplished young woman, best and most foresighted of all mother-teachers.

Moral of the story, my kids don’t need me to have a beautifully bound and pre-set, seasonal, themed plan for every hour of our day. They don’t even necessarily need songs, fingerplays, and poems (though those are all good and beautiful things.) They need a mother who is humble enough to bear criticism and make an honest effort to improve herself, not just make a detailed and organized plan to improve herself.

Another moral? The world is wrong about Emma. One the one hand because one might think Mr. Knightley is wrong to “mansplain” to Emma. On the other, because no one wants to acknowledge the true relatability that is Emma. Unfortunately, we are all vain sometimes. We all make the wrong choice, or say the wrong thing. We should all feel lucky to have someone wise to point out our mistakes that we might have the opportunity to fix them. And we would all do well to bear it.

If you haven’t already, I would recommend checking out my first two posts here and here to understand our family’s homeschool philosophy before reading about our Kindy plan for this year. In Part 2 below, I’ll share all the resources we’re using this year, as well as our current rhythm/where we’re slotting it all in. Okay, let’s get started!

Edit 9/17/2025: If I could redo this year’s plan, it would be to have way less plan. I found that adding the Seasons of Wonder book became too much for my two year old to sit through, and really, I love making a new plan every few weeks on my own and don’t need something as open-and-go. I’ll likely make a post updating what’s working and what’s not, but to see the story behind letting go of the curriculum we were using, you can check out this post. For now, the Alphabet Forest, A Child’s Seasonal Treasury, and great fairytale and folktale collections have been the sweet spot for us.

Focusing on a poetic, integrated, Waldorf-and-Classical-inspired path to education, we will be using materials that emphasize multi-sensory and emotional learning. That will mean a lot of Good books (folk tales, fairy tales, legends), along with poetry, movement like group games and fingerplays, folk songs, hymns, Bible reading, crafts, handwork, time outdoors, and plenty of free play!

A note: There is tons of “curriculum” out there for the nursery and Kinder-garten/-leben years. Is it necessary? I, trusting in the wisdom of educators far wiser and more experienced than I, don’t think so. Do I mean that children should run completely wild until age 7? Of course not! What I do mean is this - there is so much learning going on through reading age-old tales, wondering together at nature, bringing the child alongside with household tasks, just ordinary life, that we don’t necessarily need a boxed set of lessons and workbooks to be bestowing a rich experience for our pre-school children.

The number one thing for planning my homeschool year was planning for my kids and my family, not using someone else’s plan. My days as a part-time work from home mother to three kids 5.5, 2.5, and 10 months are simply not the same as a full-time homescholer/homemaker with an 11 year old and a 6 year old! Since we have only one napper in the house, it was important for me to come up with a plan that would include my toddler in any set activity times, because we simply don’t have much time in a day when we’re not all together. (If naptime lessons are not a thing in your home, you’re not alone.) This is one of the reasons that a Charlotte Mason-Waldorf-Classical approach really speaks to me as a mother. Education should just be life. We will have structured times of led activities, but I have always wanted homeschool to be something that the entire family can participate in together.

For that reason, our “spine” for this year, and probably next as well, is going to be Preschool Play by Oak Meadow. I found their preschool bundle for a steal on Facebook, so don’t forget to check used first! I’ve laid out a few pages above (top row), so you can see how they include seasonal verses, fingerplays, crafts, and recipes based on themes such as kindness and community (another huge reason I’m homeschooling is so that virtue can guide our lives, rather than just fact acquisition.) On the bottom row are selections from Alphabet Forest, a Waldorf-inspired reading curriculum that uses a Rhythmic Reading Method, learning through reading poetry. I love this curriculum’s poetic approach, integrating manipulative letter building, poetry, story, fingerplays, movement, music, recipes, and crafts to teach reading gently and organically. We have dabbled in this book for the past year, but this year I plan to weave letters into our other plans to give my almost 6 year old a slow introduction to these concepts ahead of first grade. Since she’s only in Kindergarten, we will likely focus on one letter for several weeks before moving on to the next. I also plan to hold back on the phonics sections for this year. So my plan looks like:

• Reciting letter poems during our morning time and using the shorter ones for memory practice, as well as doing the letter fingerplays at morning time

• Modelling clay and wax into letter-related shapes (ex. mushrooms and moths for “m”) and doing other letter crafts for our activity times

• Listening to letter songs that she provides on drives

• Hunting for nature items related to the letter outside

• Incorporating the yoga poses into our circle time

Above all, I want to give my children a childhood full of story. Not just “children’s books” with unattractive illustrations and silly plotless writing, but the enduring tales from all over the world, full of truth and inspiration. One of my goals for this year is to do a lot more read-alouds together, to build especially my toddler boy’s habit of attention. Our current reading plans include: Read To Your Toddler Every Day (this one is great for two year olds as these are relatively short folk tales), original and unedited Grimms tales, nursery books from the John Senior Good Books List which we’ll mostly check out from the library, and we are starting to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone aloud at night before bed. The Playful Preschool book also has short folktales like The Turnip included in the monthly plans that are well-suited to little ones still unable to attend for very long.

We’re also adding in poetry time to our daily rhythm, going through the Waldorf Book of Poetry and Mother Goose while we all have our afternoon snack. I wasn’t sure what I would find inside this particular anthology when I found it at a deep discount on eBay, but I was so happily surprised to find that it’s much more than fairy poems (though I love fairy poems of course!) This book will serve us for our whole school journey, containing classic poems, excerpts from great writers like Homer and Shakespeare, and even famous speeches like The Gettysburg Address. If you want to dip your toe into memory work for the early years, I would highly suggest turning to this book first.

Another routine we’ve incorporated in years past but that I’m trying to be more diligent about this year is using songs for transition times to help them go more smoothly. I usually use these two tunes and make up whatever words I need for the occasion (potty time, lunch, poetry time, etc). I also love Come Follow by Lorraine Nelson Wolf for transitions and my daughter has memorized the tune for this one and often makes up her own little rhymes as well!

Extra resources we’ll incorporate for random verses, songs, and crafts include: A Child’s Seasonal Treasury, Movement Stories, and Earthways.

Our current Kinderleben Rhythm

Before the kids wake up: mother morning time (tea and breakfast prep, then breakfasting alone while I do a poetry reading and a chapter of a book. This is where I’m trying to do some commonplacing if I have the time)

Kids wake, breakfast together while I start Bible reading and a section of our catechism book, The Law of God for Children

Break for the kids to get dressed while I clean up the dining table and kitchen from breakfast

Craft or cooking activity for the day from Preschool Play or Alphabet Forest

Free play

Nature time

Lunch

Circle time with our fingerplays, circle rhymes, and yoga poses for the letter we’re working on

Free play while I start tea & get snacks together

Poetry & snack time with the Waldorf Book of Poetry, either a folktale from Preschool Play or Read to Your Toddler Every Day, and a shorter Grimms story

Free play while I work on housework. Sometimes they help, sometimes they run off

Afternoon tidy time (we are working on the kids, especially my oldest, doing their part and not bailing them out by picking their things up for them)

Dinner prep - this is where our kids can have a show if necessary. Sometimes they can keep playing and other times they need a little break from each other before dinner. My daughter has often been opting to listen to a Yoto story alone while my son chooses to watch Toy Story on repeat.

Dinner

Quiet(er) play time

Family read aloud: Harry Potter

Toddler bedtime while my daughter has “fairy magic time”, alone time to play with her more fragile toys or do a craft she can’t do with the littler kids around like needle felting

Big girl goes to bed

That’s it! Phew. If you stayed with me that whole time, blessings. I hope someone out there can find that helpful!

P.S. This is our rhythm so far, but I know many people do a longer morning time or benediction table that holds most of the things that we have more spread out, like poetry, fingerplays, songs, etc. If that’s you, and you successfully combine that time with toddlers in tow, can you please let me know how you do that?!

Something you should know about me is that I am an obsessive researcher, especially when it comes to my children. I’ve been looking into everything from parenting techniques to diaper brands since before I ever got pregnant with my first, so when we decided we would homeschool, I set out to figure out exactly what our philosophy would be. I should preface by saying this: I have nothing against families who are looking for a checkbox, get in the hours type of approach. But from the beginning, I knew this wasn’t the path I wanted to take with my kids. If you’re looking for resources to teach your 5 year old to read as quickly as possible or to get them doing arithmetic by the end of Kindy, there are other resources better suited to that approach. If you’re looking for an approach that speaks to the whole child as a holistic person, makes it easy to include younger children, and draws from all of life as a source of education, then read on!

From the beginning of my research, I have been incredibly inspired by the Waldorf philosophy of education and have utilized many recommendations for the early years; open-ended toys, plenty of free play time, unrestricted movement from birth, storytelling, beauty, song, and most of all, the idea that we should not push our children academically past the appropriate stage of development. As soon as I encountered it, the idea of the right material at the right time really spoke to me as a mother who would rather easily flow into reading when the child is ready versus forcing phonics on a three year old who isn’t there yet. As I prepared for Kindergarten this year (a required grade in our state), I pored over books, blogs, videos, and podcasts about Waldorf education. Then, wanting to learn even more about educating morals via story, I happened upon the podcasts The Commonplace and The Wonder Years, each speaking about a Charlotte Mason + Classical education. Suddenly, I had been given the terminology to express the great idea that I believe is deeply embedded in Waldorf education: poetic knowledge.

Now, prepare thyself because this may be a controversial take for anyone who considers themselves Waldorf (and not Classical), or Classical (and not Waldorf).

I believe wholeheartedly that much of Waldorf philosophy is, at its heart, Classical.

For truly Classical education, poetic knowledge is considered foundational, over and above rote memorization of facts. Education should arise from first the experience of wonder, then grow through integrated sensory-emotional, internal and external experience. So, what does that have to do with Waldorf?

Waldorf education, past the play silks, wool dolls, and candles, actually seeks to impart a poetic education. While Rudolf Steiner may have used different words to describe the educational philosophy that he was setting forth for the first Waldorf schools, if you’ve read any of Steiner’s work, you’ll see the remarkable link between his principles and those of a Classical education based on poetic learning. For both, there is an enormous emphasis on the importance of experiential learning - engaging all the senses to not only imbibe information, but to more importantly, encounter a world of information through wonder so as to truly care about learning.

This idea is central to what I’m seeking to do at home with my children. I want them to learn, not to check boxes, but to experience a world of wonder. I want them to grow up understanding that we should seek to engage with the world around us not because someone is making us, but because that it what makes us truly human.

Stay tuned for part 2, where I will share the resources I’m using this year for my children aged 5.5, 2.5, and 10 months!

Waldorf, Montessori, Reggio-Emilia, Charlotte Mason, and the rest. For the average person, just names. For many homeschooling moms, a name to stitch on your banner of war. Most internet homeschoolers are not generations in, but rather we are forging a new path of education for our children despite what our own formative years looked like. But delving into the world of homeschool advice is like jumping into a chicken run before the farmer has come to put everyone in the coop for the night. The flock may not be headless, but at this point, they’re directionless. And moms, ever looking for The Best Solution for their own precious flock, will willingly hop in, choose whichever chicken looks best, and follow her whichever way she goes.

Maybe your first brush with the homeschool world is Montessori. So naturally, you go on the hunt for manipulatives, read up on Maria Montessori’s philosophy, and get your child as independent as possible, as quickly as possible. If you have a friend with children a few years older who already believes wholeheartedly in the Charlotte Mason method, you may buy her volumes (or read a summarized version written in modern English by a fellow homeschooler), purchase a notebook for nature journaling, and set out-of-doors. Or, maybe you’ve found the chicken wandering off the well-trod path and out into the odd abyss. Like me, you may have discovered Waldorf. Like me, you may also not remember at all how you ended up here, memorizing fairytales to retell orally, scouring Marketplace for gently used wood toys, and suddenly learning how to knit via YouTube.

Wherever we end up in the internet homeschool universe, there is one thing common to us all: the desire to dig our heels in for the defense of The Best Way. Another mom’s choice is not an individuality, but simply the wrong path, chosen for the wrong reasons. The wrong philosophy, come to by ignorance of the right one.

Perhaps, though, you’ve made it out the other side, to a different world of homeschooling called Eclectic. Uncomfortable without a label to waive in the air or stick onto your table of friends in the cafeteria (“you can’t sit with us!”) some moms may want a way to describe what they claim is indescribable. Not any particular philosophy or school of thought, no rooted values or vision, but rather a wherever-the-wind-blows-us, piecemeal kind of education.

Now, if you think I’m denouncing all these moms, fear not. I, dear reader, should you exist, have been down every path, for many reasons, many times over, all before my first has sit down to a single “lesson”. Were you to ask two weeks ago, I would’ve told you that I was firmly a Waldorf mom, fairy flower crowns, handwork, and all. Now, I don’t know anymore.

Two weeks ago, I had the lovely opportunity to be trapped in a car for 16 hours on a road trip. I put on a few podcasts I had saved long ago and never got around to, and one road trip later, I feel like a different almost-homeschooler. Now, I’m not really going into what my philosophy is today. Or maybe ever, because what I’ve been pondering over these past few weeks is this: what does it mean to be human? Your answer will depend on where you stand, but for me, my answer has to be one made in the image of God, created to delight and participate in His gifts and work. One made to orient towards the good, the true, and the beautiful.

Knowing that is what sets my path as a mother-teacher, not the particular philosopher inspiring a curriculum. If we’re honest with ourselves, what should inspire us in our path is not the personality behind the method, but the ideas themselves that ring true. I’m even rethinking use of the terms “homeschool” and “school” in the everyday language of our home, because truly, I want to build a life full of education in the truest sense of the word. Because the comprehensive and holistic acquiring knowledge and wisdom is not a pursuit that we should be seeking to clock in and out of.

Which curriculum is best? Which philosophy will set our kids up for success? I don’t know if a label is necessary, or even a packaged set of workbooks and indications, so much as the answer to the question of what a human is. What we are for. What we have always done, and the things we have always learned. What I will take from any banner moving forward are the simple and common (or maybe now, not so common) pursuits that have persisted in the formation of humans throughout time: music, story, movement, nature, and meaningful work.

We should be seeking neither to simply check the boxes of a mandated list of subjects, nor to hang our hat on whichever particular “method” we follow without knowing the why behind it. No matter which path we take, we should thoughtfully seek an education for our children (and for ourselves) that aims us toward becoming human. Because our children are not sectioned of wells, waiting to be filled with a daily dose of arithmetic, botany, and grammar lessons, but whole persons, ready to become who they truly are if only gifted with plenty of time to contemplate and embody all that is good, true, and beautiful.

P.S. Every gratitude to of The Wonder Years podcast, as well as of The Commonplace for their incredible dismantling of every preconceived notion I had at the stuffy pretensions of Classical homeschoolers.

~ Aryanna