Sometimes, when I reading the blogs of my fellow human beings, each telling his or her story in different words under different pretexts, I am awed by the sheer beauty, courage, and humility of many homeschooling women who have embarked on this journey without the comforts and conventions of a road-map. I know that many, like myself, probably never imagined they would educate their children at home; we grow into the stages of our lives and make treasure maps when we remember how much each moment mines.
I love Jessica (Only Small Things) for her unihibited willingness to learn from her child- to throw away each theory when it proves incorrect. She embodies all the wonders and beauties of a love for learning as it LIVED rather than merely lip-synced. She also reminds us that breast cancer is (and will be) a part of life for many of us, and courage is not an abstract quality but a very real and powerful force.
I love Heather (A Handmade Life) for her inspiring commitment to natural foods and foodways- for the way in which she continues to educate me in spite of my lazy, convenience-minded selfishness.
I love Clare (The Green Gate) for the way in which inadvertently changed the course of life in such a way that I did the impossible and (gasp) got married. Her faith and patience cannot be purchased or bottled- and it’s nice to be awed by such things.
I love Kelly (Freeflowing Ways) for the way in which she reveals the beauty of the world and the wild. I never read her blog without remembering that I should be outside capturing, observing, and even laughing alongside the wonders around me.
I love Brenna (Cobbled Together) for reminding me that my dibble-dabble-tinker-and-move-on mentality is an appetite and a desire that needn’t be hidden or bemoaned. Brenna is the reason I tried my first plant-dyeing experiment. And she is also the reason I give myself for the value of trying many different things without insisting on becoming an “expert” or “specialist” in just one.
I love Lucille (Mamaroots) for everything she teaches me about the values of storytelling, and how narratives shape every moment of our lives. Stories matter- they are the way in which we make sense of joy, wonder, beauty, and sorrow. My life is a more habitable turf since I started sharing and creating daily stories with my kids.
I love Sarah (Consider A Field of Lilies) for that time she told me that she needed God to tell her WHY- that she wasn’t going to settle for anything less intimate. And the look on her face when she said it. I love her for her courage, her faith, her mothering, her hope, her frustration, and her endless source of crafting exploration. I love her for her seeds which brought delicious life to our garden last year- and food for our table. Maybe I’m secretly eyeing those lotion bars with more than appreciation. I love her with a looking-forward-to kind of love…
Who knows how long each of us will continue this specific journey? Who knows if we’ll be online documenting it next year? What matters is not so much any stiff-necked script for our lives but the way in which we (all these constantly-changing ladies some of whom know each other and some of whom we know only by electricity) enrich, inspire, and offer hope to one another as we continue on our separate ways.