beauty that moves

peppermint in the country

 

 

 

 

It was my sophomore year of high school, career counselors were visiting for the day. They were there to help the student body of 248 fifteen year-olds decide what they wanted to be when they grew up. My honest and loving hippy response was "I'd like to live in a little house in the country and grow peppermint."

Never more sure of anything, I wrote it in my journal. Which I still have to this day. 

My counselor on that day told me I'd be better suited for a career in Humanities. I wonder if writing and making art and raising a family and homeschooling and sharing beauty with the world counts as a career in Humanities?

I sat next to my friend Nicki, she said she wanted to be a flight attendant. I wondered if she had ever thought of that before this particular day. Because on career counselor day, if your responses to their questionnaire stated that you liked helping people, travel, and were outgoing... flight attendant was one of a dozen professions that were recommended to you. I wonder if flight attendant is still on the list? I'll never know what Nicki would have become, she didn't live past high school. She was killed in a car accident just before entering her senior year. I'll always remember though, Nicki didn't roll her eyes as most adults did when I shared my peppermint filled dreams. We were different in many ways - she in her pleated, tapered leg pants and awesomely teased hair, me with my out of fashion Indian print clothing found at the Salvation Army and long non-layered hair. She was kinder than anyone you'd ever meet (anyone would say so), and because of her, my aspirations were heard and honored that day. That meant a lot to my fifteen year old free-spirit-self who was used to being listened to, but in a "that's nice dear" kind of way. 

I don't know why I'm writing this today. Perhaps because these photos, this magical place we visited yesterday, evoke a certain nostalgia for me. Yesterday I pretended (if only for a few moments) that this was my shabby cottage on a dirt road in the country. A place where clothes are tossed on the river bank for a dip in the cool flowing water, where late afternoon sun rests on the meadow and the scent of peppermint lingers in the air. Along with dreams that still live on.

unplugged sunday... a proposal

Recently, I've shared how our family has decided to slow down and unplug once a week. To revel in simple activities and be together without the distraction of the internet, TV, texting, etc. We aren't very rigid people, so there is a bit of fluidity to this practice, but for the most part - those are our 'rules.'

What sort of things do we do on Unplugged Sunday?

Well, it varies. But mostly we spend as much time hiking in the woods as possible. We also read endlessly, cook mindfully, create quietly, connect spiritually, visit with friends, play in the garden, and generally choose to enjoy the set apart day.

Each Sunday is unique, that much is true.

Some of you have told me that your family has been inclined to unplug a little, here and there, after reading about our experience. How awesome are you for doing that!

I wonder if any of you have made it a regular practice? Or maybe you would like to make it one? If so, are you interested in sharing your thoughts and experiences in an article that could be shared with the world? 

You see, my family and I are cooking up a little project and we'd like to invite a few other people (or families) to lend their voices too. It will be a place here on the web, a place for all to visit and find inspiration, a place to pause and soak in the goodness that comes as we choose to slow down and notice the gift of a quiet day.

We don't really see it fitting into my home here at Beauty That Moves - it feels bigger, more expansive than that. We feel it's important to give Unplugged Sunday space to grow on it's own, if that is what it is meant to do. Plus, we want to make room for my husband (who happens to be one fine writer) to lend his voice regularly. And you? We would be honored to have the stories and photos of other families shared as well.

Would you care to submit a story?

What should your Unplugged Sunday look like?

Here's one thing I know for sure... Unplugged Sunday is a state of mind.

Not everybody has Sunday available, or a full day even. But most of us, if we look honestly at our calendar, can find a pocket of time to slow down and unplug - either alone or as a family. Maybe your practice will be Unplugged Monday Morning, or Unplugged Thursday After School. See what I mean? The important thing, I have found, is to make the commitment.

 It doesn't become healing and life-changing until it is a practice. Dare I say, a discipline? 

I have a hard time placing strict parameters on something as sweet and mellow as a day of rest and connection. Here's the thing though, if we don't self-impose a few guidelines, things can get too loosey-goosey in a heartbeat. A little discipline can be a good thing.

The 'big rules' for our family:

• computers do not get turned on 
• no ipod (texting or games - music is fine)
• no TV (though we are open to a movie at the end of the day if our teenager daughter suggests it)

It's really not that restricting, is it? But you'd be amazed at how long and peaceful the day can be if those three things are not included.

So, to be specific, we'd love to have a few people share their unplugged stories with us on this project (which we will be revealing in the next few weeks).

For us, Unplugged Sunday can be summed up by these five simple topics:

 Time together, in nature.

Connect to spirit. 

 Cooking with intention.

 Make the world more beautiful.

Gather with friends for simple and good times.

Does this speak to you? Would you like further information about submitting your story?

Email me at threadcityyoga @ yahoo dot com (or use link on the tab bar, top of this blog).

In your email:

• Please tell us what Unplugged Sunday means (looks like) for your family.
• If you write a blog, include a link to that.
• Do let us know what topic(s) you'd like to write about!

Updated: For me details, Download Unplugged Sunday - An Invitation

Thank you! Enjoy the weekend everyone!

the little things

Feeling swept up in the devastation of natural disaster. Not without hope for good things to come... but right now, a heavy heart and a million prayers. I'm reminded that our loved ones and life's sweet, simple, fleeting moments are to be cherished above anything else. 

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Getting out there, even in the rain. Making our own sun.

Wine from one neighbor, flowers from another.

Her little job, and the flowers that greet her.

Tea, in solitude.

Him, barefoot on the trail.

Using the very last shallot from 2010. Happy the farm opens in two weeks.

Incredible friends (who are blessed to live on a lake). 

Time.

Productivity.  Grateful for (and loving) the variety of things I get to call work.

Borrowed car for the week... vintage store 'field trip!'

The first of the season.

Not much interest in cooking, but she'll spin salad all day long. (It's fun!)

Surprised at how moved I was by this. 

The return of blue skies and sunshine.

These little things... grateful they make up the essence of our days. 

middle school resources and materials - curriculum fair!

“The Montessori program for the young adult from age twelve to fifteen is very different from that of traditional school. Dr. Montessori felt that because of the rapid growth, the increased need for sleep, and hormonal changes, it is useless to try to force the adolescent to concentrate on intellectual work. She recommended an Erdkinder, or Earth school, where children would live close to nature, eat fresh farm products, and carry on practical work related to the economics of supplying food, shelter, transportation, and so forth. Intellectual work is still done, following the child’s interests, but without pressure.”

~ The Michael Olaf Montessori

Join me today at Simple Homeschool as I share the nuts and bolts of our homeschool.

junk or treasure?

Sometimes bulky waste week is nothing but piles of 80's couches and old broken black lacquer furniture on the side of the road.

Sometimes, though...

Sometimes...

Well, maybe just one time...

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Papa gets a brand new grill! Last night, I could hear him through the window, down by the garage admiring his found treasure. The words "major award" were uttered more than once... and we've officially welcomed the Silver Mamba into our family.

I have no idea where we'll put this thing.

(The picture doesn't do much for the scale of The Mamba - she's about six feet wide. That's a lot of corn on the cob!)