Showing posts with label life journey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life journey. Show all posts

Monday, April 25, 2011

Chumming as a doorway to spiritual renewal - I

I was twelve then and had already heard my friends whisper (rarely talk openly) in small groups, occasionally giggling, about their ‘monthly thing’. Though I never knew what it really was, I knew this much. That it involved blood stains, was secretive, shameful, embarrassing, dirty, messy, sometimes cool (a sign of growing up), sometimes painful. But I was too shy and timid to ask anyone about it. It all remained a mystery until one day I found blood stains on my dress. I was taught how to use a pad, and told that, from then on, I’d have to do it month after month. Why it would happen every month, I didn’t know. I simply followed instructions I was given.

Over many years after that, I started seeing my “chums” (which was a euphemism for “periods”) as painful, icky, messy, bothersome and coming in the way of life: adding to the challenges of a girl with her own mind struggling to keep her sanity in a conservative society. My ‘chums’ was something I could definitely do without, I thought. But the media did try to do it share to brainwash me saying that I could stay free, remain carefree, as though nothing was really happening inside my body, and carry on with life as normal. There were pills to numb the pain from the cramps. I really believed in doing all I could to let the days pass by without letting them affect my life in any way. Sometimes, I’d think that I’d won over nature’s ways. At other times, when the symptoms persisted, I was left feeling defeated.

This madness went on for more than 20 years. Why I call it madness, you’ll know if you read on.

About five years ago, when I read all about menstruation and its connection with the moon cycle, I was fascinated! I learnt that American tribal communities had something called a ‘moon-lodge’ where the chumming women rested. Since women who lived under natural light all menstruated around the full moon day of every month, it was called so. That is where they all had retreated to during those days of the month. Women’s bodies and psychies went through changes as the moon waxed and waned every month. During their time in the moon-lodge, women were given plenty of rest and were enabled to connect to their bodies, while the men took over many of their worldly responsibilities. It was an intense physical process of renewal of the body and the spirit, sometimes accompanied by pain that helped the women connect to their bodies more deeply. When they came out after their bleeding, they came energized, with a lot of clarity and ready to channel deep wisdom. The entire community then took guidance from them to have some of their issues resolved, questions answered, decisions made and so on. Such was the power of the woman who fully acknowledged and honored her monthly chumming and used it to connect to nature.

Even in our own Indian culture, there has been the custom of celebrating when a girl attains puberty. I used to feel embarrassed about these ‘functions’ whenever they happened. I had one too! Middle and upper middle classes, and many communities have stopped doing this function in the name of being progressive. Doing these functions is considered ‘low-classy’ and ‘primitive’. Surely the spirit of doing this has degenerated from being a celebration of womanhood to something customary, or an exhibition of wealth, status, etc.

I was fascinated by this story and made more than a mental note of it. But my approach to my chums remained unaltered in any significant manner.

As part of my riding one wave of feminism into the next (angry rebellion to healing compassion), my perception of my own body, my blood, my chums slowly began to shift. I started honoring my body’s need to rest during those days and attended to my cramps in ways other than pilling. But it was still largely a bodily healing that I focused on. Slowly but surely, feelings of shame, dirtiness, etc. started giving way to a sense of sacredness.

About a year ago, I came across two powerful writings about this by Lara Owens and by Eckhart Tolle. Apart from all that I’d already known by then, Lara Owens had elaborated on the PMS a lot. The modern culture has made a disorder out of this important part of a woman’s monthly cycle by naming it a syndrome telling you ‘something’s wrong with you!’ Just like how pregnant women are called ‘patients’ in hospitals as though pregnancy was a disease!

Lara talked about how all women go through PMS, and how it is a heightened emotional state. A state where the woman’s negativity, fears, anger, resentment get heightened and come in the face, so that she can deal with and heal through them coming out renewed spiritually as well. Eckhart Tolle calls it the 'activation of the collective female pain body'.

PMS is a highly vulnerable and hence a potentially stressful state. Lara Owens said that women should ideally stop doing everything at this time, sit with their emotions and work through them. PMS and the time during chums are golden opportunities for the woman to go inwards. It is a time when getting into a meditative state is easy for her. When honored, it opens a beautiful doorway to healing, inner peace and wisdom.

Now, what has it all meant to me?

Read the sequels here.


Chumming as a doorway to spiritual renewal - II

Chumming as a doorway to spiritual renewal - III

Friday, December 31, 2010

2011 - Creativity!

2010, for me, stood for resilience. For a long time, I wallowed in a state of non-acceptance of my life situation and misery because of that. I was pushed to a state where I was choicelessly driven to call upon divine presence to help me ground myself into the moment and surrender to it. On this new year’s eve, I feel grateful for the healing, the wisdom and the love that surrounded me.

2011 is a year to pay forward and do something with the healing and love that I received. At some level, going inward and learning patience has also made me more withdrawn, less spontaneous and less creative. It is a year to unleash my creativity and access the creator in me; a year to rediscover my wild self. This time, with a pinch of wisdom thrown in.

I commit to healing from my disconnect with my beautiful body, the temple of my soul, and honoring its connection with the moon, the universe.
I commit to being more present in my body, to taking better care of it.
I commit to being more aware of my breath, to being better grounded.
I commit to living my life more purposefully, whether in silence, thought, speech or action.
I commit to actively seeking out and connecting to all those who want to walk along as well.
I commit to having faith in myself, no matter how many times I’ve failed in the past, so I can be positive and available for the sacred work; the work of the artist, the creator.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Here I come!

Every night, my aching, longing heart

goes out in search of the green.

My mind conjures up all kinds of dreams;

in strange settings I would’ve never seen.


Wandering in my secret night gardens

Longing to be one with the soil and the grass blades.

Leaves brown, yellow and green

In all their beautiful, stunning shades.


Marveling at the brinjal creeper, the tomato vine,

The potato shrub and the cabbage trees.

Taking a closer look at the spiders and the worms,

Going down on my knees.


Wondering and wandering in my gardens

with butterflies, spiders and the buzzing bees!

Letting my feet be washed by the waves

As I walk through mangroves by the seas.


The urban backyard, the village, the forest,

Hill tops, valleys and plains.

Lit by the sun or the moon,

And sometimes drenched by the rains.


Hey, my green, brown and blue family

Hang in there, hang in there!

Here I come, leaving my sandals behind

I come with my feet all bare.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Yearning

Seems like eons now
wearing the robes of a goody mother, daughter, d-i-l, and wife,
one after another.
Sometimes, one over another!

Now,
I look at my feet and they whisper
"How about wandering aimlessly!?"
I look at my hands and they whisper
"How about splashing some bright colours on the canvas!?"
I look into my eyes in the mirror and they whisper
"How about gazing into the night sky in total solitude!?"

After a brief silence
my whole being screams yearningly.
"How about dancing with the universe,
and loving life in a whole new way!?"

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Goddess!

Poked, beaten,

Bruised.

Slashed, stabbed,

Bleeding.

Bewildered, wounded,

Unconscious.

Still, quiet,

Waking up.

Loving, holding,

Healing.

Goddess!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

The ways of the Universe!

As I kept looking at my daughter, Isha, in my arms yesterday, I remembered the face of the old man who had something important to tell me. Then I traveled down my memory lane to meet my psychiatrist telling me to drop everything else and focus on my dream. Further down the lane, an american medical intuitive was advising me over the phone to not have a baby just yet, until I birthed the dream I so passionately held in my chaotic head! Before I knew it, I was reliving the fascinating story of labouring my dream and birthing reStore

Jan 02. I was so captivated by the idea and model of the 'american food co-op' and felt a calling to come back home and co-create a warm, open space which would attract people who cared about the way they lived. This would have an eco-market of some sort as its anchor. It would be co-created and run by a collective of passionate people who believed in each other and in having lots of fun working together! 

Jun 04. I wrote the first of the series of many edited versions of the concept note for such a space. A well wisher offered a physical space. A bunch of young people spent their entire summer vacation cleaning it up and setting up a library. Rajeev and I launched 'The Resource Learning Centre' with a small puja. We dreamt of it as a place where people would throng to for all kinds of information, ideas and resources on anything alternative. We started with selling books. Friends contributed every month towards the administrative expenses. A local newspaper did a significant story about the centre. But after just a few months, it all collapsed so badly due to many reasons (both within and not within our control). I didn't know where to go put my face! In the meantime, I grabbed a couple of opportunities with other organisations and institutions hoping to co-create my dream space there. They were deadlier fiascos. It wasn't happening! 

Jun 05. Not giving up, I rewrote the concept note and called it 'The Shop', hoping that we could somehow pull off the eco-market of my dreams. I came up with a blueprint for the shop, and thought I had worked out all the details of it fairly well. I chose about four of my friends, presented the concept to them and started working on the idea. A few meetings into the planning it all seemed like shaping up well. But just then, I suffered my usual undiagnosed, unexplained attack of 'muscle weakness' and was almost bed-ridden for a couple of months. Exhausting local options of diagnosis (modern and traditional) in vain, I chose to seek the help of a medical intuitive from the US. Dr.Mona Lisa Schulz asked me for just my name and age and nothing more; not even my symptoms. She energetically scanned my body from the other side of the globe. "It's quite chaotic inside your head! Lots of noise and an unbirthed idea you are holding on to. Don't try to conceive a baby until you have birthed this one and you have healed completely. And you need immediate psychiatric attention." She named it! I was able to somewhat manage the weakness. But not the growing noise in my head. Melodious flute music was cacophonic. Words appeared like letters scattered all over making no sense. The noise grew louder until I was at the verge of madness. Another psychiatric friend in the States set out to do a 20-question phone interview to test my mental health and asked me to seek immediate medical help after just 5 questions! After much resistance, I desperately ran to a psychiatrist to treat me; to restore my sanity. In the middle of all this, I went back to my friends and kept them fully informed about the situation and told them to hang in there. "I'll fix my mind and be right back to resume the work!" I took off for a few months. 

July-Nov 06. Dr.Padma was an amazing doctor who listened to my long hours of rambling, the details of the concept note occupying much of that time. After my insanity reached a point where 'ideology' (of being anti- anti-depressant and anti-modern psychiatry, etc.) didn't make any sense to me even as an idea; not even as a word with letters strung together, I decided to take my medication religiously. After just a couple of sittings with me, the doctor picked up two important threads. She urged me to do gardening, a dream I'd always held close to my heart but somehow never gotten around to pursuing. She quickly found out that all my earlier associations with activists and organisations had burnt me out, because I had my own dream of creating a space which was very different from them all. She urged me to drop all my other associations, and start my very own initiative. "You're so worn out taking care of other people's ideas, which they are not really interested in co-creating. Dream about your own. Live it. It will be your baby." She kept at this during our every meeting. I slowly healed, while labouring hard and creating a beautiful urban garden, and working on the dream.

Jan 07. While still phasing out my medication, I was up again with the concept note in my hand. The group that had come together initially was not to be found 'hanging in there'. I was there; just me and the note. I had just begun having discussions with a good friend who started showing interest and soon became my partner in the mission. Fully recovered from my mental and physical ailments, I once again set out to gather the critical mass to take it forward. Long bus rides to meet interested people from across the city, phone calls and emails got us this group of ten people to start with all over again. We tirelessly pursued a prospective collaboration with a well-established and resourceful organisation which came by. After several months of building on many promises of a grand launch of our collaborative venture, it collapsed miserably. The organisation backed off, while half the members of the put-together 'core-group' left for various reasons. It all looked bleak again. 

Aug 07. I wasn't alone. The other half of the group remained and we were all chasing the dream together. But doubts were creeping in nevertheless. "Is it all just not meant to be? Is the universe having other plans for me, like becoming a mum and raising a family or something?" Loaded with these and many more questions and doubts, one morning I was waiting at the local bus stop. I sat on the little concrete bench, by the side of an old man. He had unkempt hair, wore a dirty dhoti and khadi shirt, and carried a jholna shoulder bag. He stared at me for a while and then addressed me in impeccable English "Hello madam. I would like to tell you something important. I am from Bangalore. I can read horoscopes and palms. Sometimes, I can read people's faces and I can read yours now. I have a message for you. Madam, you have been tirelessly trying to start a project for many years and have failed every time. I know you are very tired right now and have doubts in your mind. But good times are around the corner. Don't lose heart and keep at it. It is going to be a success! Things are going to fall into place effortlessly. You cannot stop them even if you want to. It is beyond you. Believe me. This is true!! That's all I wanted to say." I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. I just sat there motionless and speechless, not knowing if he was sane or insane; if it was coincidence or syncronicity. Without even thanking him, I smiled at the man halfheartedly and boarded the bus which had just arrived, quite dazed. 

Feb 08. The core-group had replenished itself with a new set of passionate people who came together by themselves. Each of them had dreamt of just such a space to walk together with other co-travelers. reStore did have a grand launch, with an unexpected turnout of 300 people. 

Feb 09. In spite of numerous teething troubles, hiccups and hurdles, reStore has been quite successful, taking its own course. It has been quite different (in content, not spirit) from what we had each imagined for it when we first set out. We have excitement, enthusiasm, idealism, sincerity and passion driving it. The core group has grown steadily. A larger community of friends and well-wishers have contributed in countless ways! It has truly evolved into a warm, open space co-created by all the members of the collective together, working towards a shared vision with each adding his / her own unique value to it.
***
What a beautiful way the universe has had, of unfolding its grand plan! How many of us angels have been sent forth for the task!! How many of us angels with .. intense eyes that met each other .. warm smiles that greeted each other .. open hearts that listened to each other .. creative minds and hands that collaborated with each other. Some of us as messengers Some as guardians. Some others, just believers in miracles, who simply blessed. Without even one of us, would it have been the same? Who can take credit for the unfolding of the plan?! Who other than the Universe itself which so beautifully conspires?!!
***
As I hold little Isha in my arms, a sense of completion of my earlier phase in life fills me up. I feel humbled. I feel a deep sense of gratitude for all those who have helped me hold myself together, hugged me, cooked for me, held my hands, kept me alive, loved me, listened to me, believed in me... I feel healed and ready to have started my new phase of life as mama. I am so looking forward to this new journey with my little angel!

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Lessons from the Soil

Here is an article about my life journey that appeared on the last (16th) page in the Kamiiritu in 2007.

***

On reflection, I have spent most of my life answering a question that most adults pose casually to children, ‘What do you want to become when you grow up?’ As a young girl, I fancied becoming a bus conductor blowing the whistle, or a gardener getting all dirty. But, school had a different plan for me, and for endless years I kept to a routine of uniforms, homework, exams, pin-drop silence, memorizing reams of text… All else was seen as distraction.

Life and its rules constantly perplexed me. To wonder, wander, do the things one enjoyed, I was told, would come in the way of ‘a successful life’, which was all about work, money, power and fame. Emerging a topper had to be the non-negotiable goal. My million life-questions were silenced by an unconditional trust placed on elders who had my best interest at heart.

My conditioning (from school, home and all around) soon pushed me into chasing careers that would make me rich and famous. After my school years, I got busy with becoming, first, a fashion designer and then, a commercial artist. But my exposure to the myriad social issues forced me to reject them for being purely commercial and adding no meaning to my life. Then, after exploring being an animal rights activist and a social worker, I finally became an environmentalist, busy solving all the world’s problems. However, an increasing exposure to the complexity of developmental issues surrounding me (WTO protests, mindless industrialization, staggering rate of rural-urban migration, riots and wars) left me bewildered and confused!

I believed getting a degree in International Development from a reputed university, would provide me the wherewithal to change the world for the better. Well into a masters program in International Development, I set about preparing for my doctorate in Environmental Economics based on this premise.

According to my academic understandings, the third world could be developed by the benevolence of the first world aid agencies, executing projects that could be planned, executed, monitored and evaluated by ‘development experts’ through elaborate project proposals and reports. Like all my other international fellow learners, I positioned myself comfortably on the launch pad for a career in the UN or a multilateral organisation. My aim was to work hard, get to the top, and command enough power to make decisions that could change the world. I derived a world view, which made me believe that if we could assign economic value to the scarce natural resources, then we would learn to use them wisely.

And yet, there was an uncomfortable feeling at the pit of my stomach all through, that urged me to get to the root of it before moving any further on this path. I took a break from university and decided to travel across rural India to learn ‘development’ firsthand.

For six months, I backpacked with a resolve to learn without any plan or agenda, and get at the root of the rather vague sense of discomfort about what I was taught. I was deeply touched by my experiences with the ordinary people and the land. What emerged was a society based on a very different set of values like simplicity, selflessness, humility, cooperation, trust, and reverence for nature, shooting down all my notions and ideas about development. I was slowly coming to understand the complexity of the systemic rot, and could place a lot of, until then, seemingly independent pieces of the puzzle, together.

I stopped believing that tinkering here and there was going to help. The very worldview of people as being purely rational and selfish, and of nature as resources to be exploited to endlessly chase economic growth as a way towards human happiness was the problem that needed to be addressed. We needed to reclaim our own traditional worldview of nature as our mother and sustainer, of all life as sacred and one, of human happiness as lying outside materialism, and of change as something that essentially starts from within oneself and radiates out into the world. It was with the ‘educated’ mind, a creation of the modern processes of schooling that the real problem lay. I returned to India with a commitment to deschool my mind, and begin to truly learn by living a life that involved all my senses.

After a ten-year marathon of frenzied action, physical and mental ailments took over, bringing my work and personal search to a complete halt. I had to allow myself to be healed. For a whole year now, I have been trying out an experiment in humility and reverence. Inspired by Fukuoka, every day that I spend in my garden, I have been learning to observe life with its yearning to express itself in all its glory and abundance.

Today, the purpose of my learning is no longer to ‘become something’. On the contrary, it is to shed my arrogance and learn from nature how to live and heal holistically. It is to learn how to be a humble participant in life’s beautiful processes.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Dance Wildly!

I used to dance quite a bit during my time in the States. The wild kind of dance, where there is just the music, the rhythm, the aromas, me and the universe. And sometimes, a dance partner who can seamlessly merge with my being that moment.
With or without external sources of intoxication, it was always one of my most blissful experiences.
It took a flight back to the States to dance again with my four-year-old nephew Sanat to rediscover that joy after years! It felt like getting in touch with a part of me that had been longing to express itself for a long time.
Instead of the stupid seed acts, sez acts and water privatisation acts, I think we should work towards a ‘must-dance-everyday-wildly’ act in India! What do you think?

Thursday, October 4, 2007

My garden 'project'

My NGO work of many years had trained my mind in the mode of working on ‘pilot / demonstration projects’ that people can come see, get a document about the formula that will help them ‘replicate’ it in their own areas. Then, there will be first ten, then a hundred, then a thousand such replicas, and the world would have changed for the better!

And so, my garden was initially one such project in my mind, of which I had a visual image when completed. I had visualized and put down on paper all its detail, what would go where, how it would look, and so on... To bring it to this state, it would need several people working on it for several days. But I was determined to work hard on it myself and make a perfect garden. Then people would come and see it, go back and start their own. There will be a few more gardens (like mine), and then there will be even more, and one day, Chennai will have vegetable and herbal gardens across its length and breadth and have changed for the better!

Though I was aware of the futility and hollowness of such thinking, I couldn’t escape the conditioning of my own mind. I mean, it is one thing for ‘futility and hollowness of such thinking’ to be ideas that appeal to my rational mind, and quite another for me to realize it.

As the garden grew, I started getting lost for hours on end, simply gazing at it.

Digging my hands into the soft soil,
following the army of ants,
counting the number of shades of green on the same guava tree,
and the interplay of light and shade on the leaves and branches,
examining the crow nest on the tree made of metal hangers and wires,
discovering a newly formed honeycomb,
following the swift movements of the squirrel as it was picking the tastiest guava…

At the end of each day of my work, I would realize that I had not progressed much on my task list! I was getting frustrated for being so ‘disorganized’ and ‘inefficient’. “When was the pilot project going to end?” My ‘perfect garden’ was becoming an ever evasive ideal.

Over time, I am slowly coming to realize
Not just that my garden may never reach a perfect end-state,
Not just that it may not be possible to do so,
But that it is not even desirable!
I don’t want to stop growing with her.

I am also beginning to see how this is, at some level, a reflection of my own life.
I had all along wanted to reach a certain perfect state, for ‘something’ to happen. Then all would be well.

But, life has constantly been throwing surprise parties at me. I have always grudgingly sat through them, wondering why events were not unfolding the way ‘I’ had planned them!

I am slowly letting go of notions of ‘reaching somewhere in order to be happy and content’, ‘knowing exactly what I am going to be doing’, and ‘showcasing the perfectly finished piece’.

I am learning to simply be content with being alive every moment, welcoming surprises with wide-open arms, showcasing my experiences during my journey guided by the inner yearning towards wholeness.

I have taken the first baby step, and oh my! There is a long long way to go!!

And by the way, friends, you are more than welcome to my garden.

Come expecting stories of my beautiful relationship with her; of how I sing and dance with her.
Definitely not a formula for a ‘replicable home garden’.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Healing with the soil

It all started in June last year, when I was diagnosed with what they call clinical depression. Cheerful I was, with no textbook symptoms of sadness or darkness in life. Just an utter chaos of the mind (to the point of mental dysfunction!) and for once, all my frenzied actions to ‘save the world’ had to stop! Along with medication (after a lot of resistance, of course) and the love and care of family and friends, I began to heal. My therapist asked me “Is there something you always wanted to do, but never had the time for, that you think you might enjoy right now?” and I immediately replied “Yes, gardening!” Rajeev and I moved into his parents’ in Perambur, and I got started on planning my little garden in the backyard, which was then a garbage dump! Since it was already one, residents from all around were conveniently using it to fling in their garbage bags regularly.

Achamma (a family helper for many years), Pachai’s family and I together toiled whole days for about a month, digging four feet into the soil, sweating, getting dirty, clearing out stuff that didn’t belong there: rubble, plastics, leather, bottles and syringes (from my in-laws’ clinic). An amazing exercise in healing!

They initially felt awkward to see me working with them and tried to convince me to just sit and watch while they did the work. But they soon got comfortable with my being part of the work, and were effortlessly giving me instructions on proper lifting, carrying baands on the head, using the crowbar, etc. while sharing stories about their morning breakfast, upcoming family functions, gossip about relatives, their village farm, and so on.. It initially seemed like an impossible task to clear the area out, and recover as many things to be reused or recycled: whole and half bricks, clean plastics, metal, glass. About five lorry loads. And lo, clean soil to work on!

Now, Pachai’s dad advised me: “Pappa, ippo nee rendu lodu semmannum eruvum vaangi pottinna, mannu soopera aayidum. Chedinga ellam nalla soopera valarum.” (If you now throw in a couple of loads of red soil and manure, you will be all set for your gardening) Oh yes sure, I will be. But, that would mean robbing some other fertile land of its top soil and laying it bare, defeating the whole purpose of healing with the soil! I was determined to not bring in *any* soil from outside the place, and may be some cow dung manure from the local bullock-cart owner and milk man. And some fresh cow dung to inoculate bacteria to compost leaf litter from the existing guava tree, and fibre from the coconut trees. Thus, my experiment in soil building began.

Slowly, I brought in plants from nurseries and friends's gardens. Pomogranate, plantain, pepper, adathoda, cannas, rose, balsam, betel creeper, butterfly pea (sangu pushpam) and a few others. And with every passing day, especially after a shower, green spots would appear here and there. The birds were bringing in seeds from all over. As I just watched them grow into small plants, I learnt to identify them. Papaya, thuthi, silk cotton, castor, calotropis, thulasi, solanum torvum (sundaikkai), country fig (atthi) and other medicinal plants .... And within a couple of months, there were more than 80 varieties of plants on that small patch of soil. In a few months, nature's own wild garden was in full bloom! With every day that the soil was healing, I was healing too. Getting rid of unwanted things - memories, belief systems - that did not belong in my being, growing more rooted, calmer and more patient, letting go and learning to simply flow with life.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

I have arrived!

After a long search for something that I can truly call my passion, here, I have arrived.

Learning from the soil.

How life is constantly, persistently finding ways of expressing itself in all its glory and abundance.

No matter how much abuse.

Just stop waging war on the soil, feed it with some water, what we humans call organic “waste” and love.

The soil yearns to heal itself and nurture life.

Earthworms and microbes yearn to re-enter their homes safely.

Roots and shoots yearn to surge forth from dormant seeds.

I am learning to shed my notions of “growing” plants, “producing” food, “composting” waste.

I am learning to allow life to do what it wants to do.

And sit back, observe and flow with it.

After a year of healing with the soil,

I have begun to slow down, grow more centered and rooted in myself and become truly happier.

The soil has been giving me lessons in

responding to the world’s problems,

in relating to people,

in raising children.

For after all, aren’t both children and plants, “the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself”?

I am learning to observe life and have faith in it,

to learn about how insects, soil and the plants relate to and affect each other,

to marvel at the innate intelligence guiding life,

to be trusting;

in short, all that my school and the schooled society around me have trained me not to do.

I want to share some of those special moments of wonderment and learning with the world through this blog. Along with my other thoughts, questions and realizations too!