Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I am a dreamer. When I was young it was endearing, as I grew older, some thought it became trite, almost inconvenient. I have dreams for myself, for my children, for my family. I dream about my career and what I really want to create, I dream about a beautiful home (which I am blessed to have) I dream about traveling and being blissfully anonymous. I dream about the kind of mother I want to be and escape from the mother I actually see myself as. I dream about having children that are fully embraced, allowed to have an unadulterated childhood, one where as adults they look back and know they are so wonderful because of it. Part of my dream has been that Waldorf education would be part of that.
Now that I am on the verge of leaving Waldorf, mainly for financial reasons, I am having to check in with my dreams and realize that they are also stories. This story that I have been living, the one that says Waldorf will keep my children safe, happy and held has really challenged what I think about myself as a mother and us as parents. While we haven't made a final decision yet, we are leaning towards French immersion for the fall. This process has really forced me to look deep within myself and see that I am actually a great mother. I love my kids more than life itself and will do whatever it takes to nurture, support, encourage and embrace them. While Waldorf education is a fantastic option for many, embarking on a new form of education doesn't change who I am as a mother, it doesn't change our family. We will still have a nature table, we will still eat good food, the Christmas Angels will still come on Christmas Eve and we will still keep media out of our home (as much as we can). We are still loving, caring, creative parents, Waldorf or not.
I had a dream the other night. Liam was 7 and going to his first day of grade one. As I stood at the entrance to the school, he and all his friends turned into Beluga whales. They all dove into the sea, free and transformed. As I stood on the shore feeling sad that he had left, I noticed a humpback whale going after them. It was clear that the children (whales) were in danger. As I stood helpless on the shore, my son and his friends managed to outsmart the whale and get away safely. They came back to the shore and turned back into children. My son, back into my arms.
Transformation and letting go is difficult for most people and this experience has been nothing less than challenging for me. I realize that part of the struggle for me is that up until now, I have largely been able to control his environment, what he is exposed to and how he has been embraced in these all important first 6 years. And while I don't know what lies ahead, I do know that my son is an amazing person. He is outgoing, curious, energetic, creative, deeply imaginative all wrapped into one sensitive little soul. The part that is hard is not really about what education he receives, it is about trusting that he will be OK. It is about trusting that the world is actually a good place for all of us. It is also about trusting that if a new school doesn't work out, that we are resourceful parents who will find another option for him. This is the letting go. This is about standing on the shore, holding the space for him as he embarks on a new journey, always supporting him, always there with open arms. They grow up so fast.
And so begins the journey.....