Musical spontaneity remains

when children are not ‘redirected’ or ‘hampered’

by adult intervention.

They may not always need

our ‘approval’ or guidance

for making their music.

(paraphrased from the book "Songs in Their Heads" by Patricia Campbell)

Take out the first word 'musical' and insert...artistic, playful, creative, intellectual, social, linguistic, etc...

and the statement remains as convicting (at least for me.)

Though I'm a big fan of approval in general (guidance too!), I love this reminder of how gentle, purposeful, and careful must be the work of parenting and teaching.

One more reason I teach and make music...

...lastly and most importantly, I believe, music and music education help develop a child’s sense of being, her consciousness, her ‘self.’ Madeleine L’Engle, who is best known as the award-winning author of A Wrinkle in Time, believes that one of the greatest responsibilities of educators is “to give the child a self.” Instead, educators, parents, coaches, administrators, and counselors often struggle to give them something drastically different (and I would argue, inferior), a ‘self-image.’ Is our culture’s preoccupation with giving children a ‘self-image’ a good idea?
By giving a child a self instead, we are not giving them “something static, tied up in a pretty parcel and handed to the child, finished and complete. A self is always becoming. Being does mean becoming.” (Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet)
This concept of ‘becoming,’ of having a self, of consciousness is a defining human capability. Overcoming the selfish self, the self-image, means that we are becoming more real, more human, more loving. We become more conscious and less self-conscious. Consciousness is authentic sensitivity, awareness of being. Self-consciousness is superficial, affected, and selfish. L’Engle explores this truth and its connection to creativity in A Circle of Quiet (one of my favorites of her non-fiction), “So, when we wholly concentrate, like a child in play, or an artist at work, then we share in the act of creating. We not only escape time, we also escape our self-conscious selves.”

Some reasons I teach and make music.

...the inherent and unique ability of music to bring order to consciousness for those who engage in ‘musicing.’ Just as writing helps bring clarity and order to my thinking...music also helps clarify my thoughts and feelings which cannot be expressed with words.
...music provides opportunities to experience “flow” (motivation which occurs when exciting challenges are perfectly balanced to match and extend ability) which spurs self-growth and self-knowledge.
...the distinctive power of music to “refine and extend” our ability to feel. By intensifying our felt experiences, music allows us to deepen our connections with the world around us, to broaden our capacity to love, and ultimately to strengthen and enrich our humanity.

I think these ideas capture a small (and somewhat cloudy) glimpse of the true masterpiece (the 'big picture') of the way that we were created to create...like our Creator so generously intended.

Heard you that shriek? It rose
So wildly on the air,
It seem'd as if a burden'd heart
Was breaking in despair.
Saw you those hands so sadly clasped --
The bowed and feeble head --
The shuddering of that fragile form --
That look of grief and dread?
Saw you the sad, imploring eye?
Its every glance was pain,
As if a storm of agony
Were sweeping through the brain.
She is a mother pale with fear,
Her boy clings to her side,
And in her kyrtle vainly tries
His trembling form to hide.
He is not hers, although she bore
For him a mother's pains;
He is not hers, although her blood
is coursing through his veins!
He is not hers, for cruel hands
May rudely tear apart
The only wreath of household love
That binds her breaking heart.
His love has been a joyous light
That o'er her pathway smiled,
A fountain gushing ever new,
Amid life's desert wild.
His lightest word has been a tone
Of music round her heart,
Their lives a streamlet blent in one --
Oh, Father! must they part?
They tear him from her circling arms,
Her last and fond embrace: --
Oh! never more may her sad eyes
Gaze on his mournful face.
No marvel, then, these bitter shrieks
Disturb the listening air;
She is a mother, and her heart
Is breaking in despair.

"The Slave Mother," by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper.

This week I transcribed (into musical notation) a recording of this poem. It brought me to tears several times. I could say much more...but I've just been writing too many papers instead.

the end of summer seems forever ago...

My fingers are freezing right now, actually. But I'm still cherishing the beginning of fall. Cherishing, slow-cooking...and baking (too much). Since the cold and rain began, we've already enjoyed pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, apple crisp, chocolate chip cookies, rustic peach pie, squash bisque, pork roast... I love all the warm smells (and flavors) in our kitchen.

fall

Pictures from a fall 2005 post.

This one of Will all bundled up was taken at one of Liam's soccer games. I think I was secretly pregnant with Maya when I took this picture of her big cousin Will.


I'm thinking about fall...even wore a sweater today. It was premature. The girls and I were peeling off layers when we got back into the car at the library.

But I think it's okay to start pretending it's fall. A few nights ago, we had squash bisque for dinner.

We bought another butternut squash today... and all the ingredients for pumpkin pie and a big bag of apples (which may become a pie as well).

That wreath is back up on our door...only now our door is navy (it'll probably end up red soon though, I just can't help it.)

But we've also been thinking about our little Will all day...he's much bigger now than in the above picture. And today, he's pretty sick, maybe pneumonia + asthma...needing oxygen and staying the night at Hackley.

four kids are sleeping upstairs.

We feel pretty proud of our accomplishment. Four children, all of them under four are having their very first sleepover slumber party. They are sharing two bedrooms. They are all asleep.

And the only one who really struggled with bedtime was Maya...she was just...way. too. excited. She was so determined to obey. To go right to sleep. To do 'better' than she did at nap time (when she was removed from the 'sleepover room'). But she just couldn't leave poor (exhausted) Natalie alone. She kept telling her to close her eyes. The 'no talking' rule seemed less important than her need restate the rules in a mother-ish condescending tone to her silently annoyed friend.

We tried hard to keep them so busy today that no one would have time to revolt or whine and so tired that they couldn't help but sleep. It worked, everyone in the whole house (except myself) took a 2-3 hour nap, and I got a lot of reading (even some lesson-planning) done. But after naptime, we had to get them all tired again, so there were two long walks, one carousel ride, side-walk chalk art, soccer games, bike riding, bubbles, races around the house with all the neighbor kids, violin lessons, snacks, pajamas, and stories.

Success.

It seems like there should be something else to do.

But I am utterly incapable of doing anything...except to pray. I know I should realize that more often. But this evening this truth is very real to me. And even more to my friends.

Please pray with us....

We have enjoyed forming a really deep friendship this year with Rick and Cindy Kamp and their daughter Lauren (2). In early August, Rick was diagnosed cancer. They arrived again at Mayo this week to begin the Mayo 'Protocol' for his type of cancer....a process that involves cancer treatment followed by a Liver transplant. This treatment plan is usually very effective...and his prognosis is quite good if all goes well. It has been an incredibly difficult summer for them, but they have been grateful to have good treatment and a solid plan from the doctors at Maya. Their faith is humbling.

But today, a CT scan showed bumps in Rick's peritoneal cavity that the radiologist interpreted as metastisis. This disease is rapidly terminal if there are metastisis in PSC patients and Rick would be excluded from his 'eligibility' for the 'protocol' (treatment and Liver transplant) that has been planned.

They should find out tomorrow afternoon if these bumps are cancer or if the CT scan results were wrong.

Please pray.

Rick's carepage