A Crown of Wisdom

I've been 44 for a month exactly. Even numbers make me happy and 44 feels just right. Strangely I feel younger at 44 than I did the year I turned 40. That year, year 40, was kind of a doozy. That was the year I decided to quit coloring my hair.

My reasons for not dying anymore were not noble. I have been going gray since I was 30 and my silver strands had gotten particularly stubborn. The color wasn't really holding anymore, and I had to leave it sitting for a long time. I think the dye had started to irritate my scalp because psoriasis became a problem for me. After adding up how much I spent each year on hair dye alone, examining the raw patches on my scalp, and scouring the web for women who went gray early I decided to let my locks go.

At first it was exciting. I felt like I was stepping away from a standard the world had set for women. I let it grow out until there were a few inches of gray hair showing and then cut it in a pixie cut.

Most people were kind and said nothing, but a few very young or very rude people said things that momentarily hurt my feelings or made me question whether or not I should stop coloring it.

Overall, though, people were neutral. A lot of my women friends said that they were inspired to do the same. A couple of people told me that while they admired me they weren't ready. I totally get that. It took a lot of thinking and wondering before I decided to go for it. I don't consider myself a particularly vain person but it was a big change for me.

When I stopped coloring my hair I realized that I was tied to the notion that youth is more attractive.

I didn't get terribly existential over it all. I would be lying, though, if I said it didn't force me to think about the aging process.

It didn't help me that my husband had lost an extreme amount of weight just before I jumped off the color train. I felt like a chubby gray-haired lady, for sure. One thing I noticed was that when we went out to eat servers began asking if we wanted separate checks. That seriously pissed me off. Lee is three and half years older than me (and that half is important!). I think that we both look young for our age but when my hair was gray I felt like people's assumptions changed.

That got me thinking about what I, and our culture, assume about people with gray hair - or no hair, or wrinkles, or walkers for that matter. There is no denying that Hollywood doesn't have much of a place for women with gray hair. We often talk about who 'ages well'. It seems to me that men are deemed attractive as they get older while their female counterparts become irrelevant.

I guess that's what I worried about; becoming irrelevant or invisible. I wondered what assumptions people would make about me, about my age because of my hair color. I definitely didn't want anyone thinking I was older than I was.

I took about a million selfies over the years took to grow out my gray.





 

The day I cut out the remaining color was exciting and disappointing. I'm not great at commitments so I was proud of myself for sticking with the grow out process. I was excited to see what I looked like with my silver no longer hidden. I will admit that I was also a little overwhelmed because to me I did look older.

We took a family trip to the beach not long after the cut, something I highly recommend. The ocean always makes me feel younger. For the last three years I've been growing it out long. I decided if my hair was going to be silver then I wanted to look like a mermaid.

These days I don't think much about my hair color.

I find this to be a relief. I don't worry that I need to color it soon, or that people will see my gray strip.

Still, sometimes when I see a picture of myself I'm a little shocked.

I'm thinking that happens to all of us, regardless of hair color. I cannot be the only person who feels the same as I did when I was 25. It still feels like a joke to tell people that I'm 44.

Overall, though, I'm happy I'm not coloring my hair anymore. I know my scalp is healthier and my bank account is fuller.

 

I enjoy hearing women tell me that they love my hair, or that they're inspired to quit dyeing their own. I also love spotting a fellow silver sister (or brother) out and about. It's definitely been a journey.

I've also definitely gotten better at selfies.

Kind of.

 

If you're contemplating walking away from color know that you can! If you're still coloring your mop then enjoy it! Go for bold colors or highlights or whatever you want. Just be you.

Be brave, misfits, and be you, whatever color your hair is.

 

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Books that Changed My View of Education

 



 

Books have always been a huge part of my life. Not too long ago I wrote post about books that had a lasting impact on my life, which got me thinking about books that have affected change on the way I homeschool. Sometimes I read a book and immediately know that its story has impacted my core values. Other times it takes a while for the value of the narrative to sink in.

I've shared a lot about how my educational philosophy has changed over the last 15 years. Looking back, I can see some books that convinced me that a lot of what I learned in college was wrong.

 

The Trumpet of the Swan

by E.B. White

When my two oldest were little we read a lot. I think we were doing a unit study and discovered this darling book by E.B. White. I had somehow escaped childhood without reading it, so it was new to me as well. When you're discovering new things right along with you children, learning is always a little more fun.

Louis is a trumpeter swan who cannot trumpet, and has no way of telling the swan he loves of his feelings. This story is a journey through Louis's self-discovery. It's a book about finding your way and about belonging.

Here's what I loved: the story is great, but the discussions that my kids and had while reading it showed me what deep thinkers they were. Louis became like a friend that we discussed even when we weren't reading. We started to make up stories of our own. We researched trumpeter swans, their habitat, and dreamed of seeing some in real life. The Trumpet of the Swan taught me how a book can spark an interest and open the door to  history, science, geography, math, art, and much more.

 

The Secret Garden

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

 

There were quite a few books between The Trumpet of the Swan and The Secret Garden - too many to name here. Around that time I had fallen into the trap of trying to replicate school at home. I had three children who were miserable doing worksheets and timed quizzes but I didn't know any other way.  I thought crying meant that things were going the way they should. Again, I can't remember why we started reading it, but we became entranced in the world that Frances Hodgson Burnett created.

Mary Lennox is an orphan sent to live with a mysterious uncle in a mansion in Yorkshire. The story revolves around Mary's discovery of a secret garden, and eventually two friends, Colin and Dickon. We delved into each of the characters, and even though Spencer was only around 4, we knew he would be just like Dickon -and he is. We talked at length about why Mary was the way that she was, and reveled in her journey. The adults in the story confounded us and I vowed to never be like them.

The book unleashed the idea that had been prowling in my head, the idea that children needed to be outside as much as possible in order to learn. The idea that children are natural learners who, when given the space and time, will learn more than I could ever teach them. This is the book I credit with helping me to stop fighting with my kids about worksheets and allowing them to explore their interests. The children in this story were each different, had their own life experiences, but each benefited from the same thing: being on their own in the garden.

I actually think I loved this book more than my children did.

 

The Sign of the Beaver

by Elizabeth George Spears

We re-visit this one every few years. In fact we'll be reading it this winter. This book, by Elizabeth George Spears, is about a 13 year old boy, Matt, who's father leaves him to guard their cabin while he brings his mother and siblings. So, it's a survival story - and a story of self-discovery.

See the theme yet?

Matt quickly learns that he is out of his element and is befriended by a Native American. Now, I'm going to tell you there are some issues with this book. It's not perfect. I'm not sure how accurately the Native Americans are portrayed, and some of the dialogue is not as smooth as it could be. What I latched onto was how capable the children in this book were. I know that it's a work of fiction but it got me thinking about all the things kids are capable of. We keep them from doing anything not deemed 'safe', and I'm not sure that's doing them any good.

After we read this book I made the conscious decision to let them do things that scared me. I did not want to force them to live under a roof my fears, so if they were game so was I. The girls climbed trees higher than I was comfortable with, and one of them was badly hurt. Spencer was ten when we let him buy his first knife. He cut himself right away. I found him bleeding in the laundry room. He was ashamed of his mistake and sure that I would take away his new tool. I laughed and told him no one would ever eat if we took knives away from people who cut themselves. Everything has a risk. We learn from our mistakes. We keep moving forward.

This book also encouraged the kids and I to delve into true Native American history, something we really enjoy learning about. We asked questions about how realistic this story is. It sparked some great discussions and again let us down the road happy road of unschooling.

 

Charlotte Mason's Original Homeschooling Series

by Charlotte Mason

My husband's family was fairly anti-homescooling. A few would corner the children to quiz them, while one or two were bold enough to actually give me literature on why homeschooling was wrong for the world. That's how a pamphlet called The Homeschool Conspiracy fell into my hands. This in-law didn't read the book, though, so they didn't know that it written to encourage people to homeschool. Hehe.

Anyway, a more benign in-law was cleaning out the church library when she came across these Charlotte Mason books. The series was complete minus one volume and she gave the set to me. I started reading and found myself thinking, "This is me! This is my homeschool philosophy!"

I felt myself relaxing as I read Charlotte Mason's encouraging words.

Mason encourages gentle rhythms, lots of time in nature, short lessons, and lots of time discussing. Jamie Martin at Simple Homeschool wrote a great post on the characteristics of a CM education here. Find Charlotte Mason help here, and Ambleside's free CM curriculum here.

Here at the Shepherd Abode we are not always Charlotte Mason. However, whenever I read her books or philosophy I always find myself going back.  The CM philosophy helps me to relax and enjoy education - and my children.

How Children Learn

by John Holt

So, to be truthful, until recently I had only read John Holt quotes. Last year I picked up a copy of How Children Learn. I didn't read it cover to cover. I picked through different sections and found myself intrigued. The John Holt GWS website has some great information. The short of it is this: I believe that children absolutely learn best when self directed.

My only regret is that I didn't find this out sooner.

The system that we are taught in, especially in the U.S., says that we have to meet benchmarks at very specific ages. To make sure that happens we force knowledge onto children. The strange thing is, children are natural learners; there is no need to force them. My youngest has never done a  'formal' math curriculum but is at grade level for his age. We use Right Start Math - mainly the games. We talk about math always. He learned to count to 100 on his own. He learned to count by 5 and 10 on his own - because he was interested. 

In college everything I learned about education contradicted what I learned in child development classes.

I just didn't see it until I tried to force my kids to learn.

On a side note, I'm not judging if you're not here with me, if unschooling and Charlotte Mason freak you out. I do want to share the things that have helped home education work for my family, though, and encourage anyone  who keeps thinking, "This can't be the only way."  I do not believe that crying is part of learning.

 

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I'm so thankful that these books found their way into my lap. I think my kids are even more thankful. Just talking about these books has calmed the anxiety that can rise up in my heart over multiplication and prepositional phrases. 

 

Are there any books that have re-shaped your educational philosophy? I'd love to know what encourages and inspires you.

 

Be brave, misfits.

 

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Autumnal Thoughts

I'm one of those people who love autumn. I love the cool mornings and evenings, perfect for fire making and cozy sweaters. I love the warm days that invite us to drag books outside and spend time at the park. The musty smell of leaves, the wide array of colors, and squirrels rushing to store their cache of nuts...I adore all of it.

 

"Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall..."  ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald 

I enjoy the dark mornings. Don't hate me. I enjoy the early evenings. I know, it's ridiculous. I love cold, rainy days where the leaves whip furiously around the sidewalks. I'm not right. I'll admit it.

 



 

I think what I truly love about the fall, though, is the contrast. The beautiful blue sky with sun shining brilliantly juxtaposed against chilly wind. Or the other side; the gray, stormy clouds that come with this month blended with the collage of colors the leaves provide is a world on the verge of change.

Possibility is seen here, and I love that.

 

Autumn offers a world full of possibility.

 

I know that some people look around at the leaves who are giving their last shout in brilliant colors before they dull and fall to the ground. Some people feel that this time of year speaks of a decaying world, of death.

To me, though, this season speaks of things to come. It speaks of resurrection.

 This time of year  reminds me that everything changes. I know that we still have winter to get through (I like that, too!) but autumn reminds me that I'm not in charge. This season speaks the truth that there is a master plan and that even death has a purpose.

There would be no spring without a fall. If the leaves never fell from the trees, if they stayed always green, I would miss out on the wonder of the world coming to life again.



 

As a Christian, I have hope in death because I know that it is not the end. I know that however my life ends on this earth that what happens next will be more glorious than the most beautiful spring I've ever seen.

That knowledge gives me hope.

I don't long for that next journey, mind you. I love it here. This world's magnificence takes my breath and draws my wonder. I could never even imagine the artistry found in nature - the insects, the trees, the wildlife, the mountains, the rivers and creek beds - it's all so much. Don't even get me started on my people and my deep, deep feelings for them.

There are times, though, when fear of the unknown can overtake me. I can become melancholy and cold with worry; worry about my future, my husband's future, my children's future, my parents' future, the world. I can give into the fear that it's all going to end in some horrific, catastrophic event.

Or I can rest in the knowledge that I'm not in charge. That whatever happens in this world something marvelous is coming next.

This translates to everyday life worries, as well as apocalyptic thoughts. Being in a season of change, from weather to employment, to how you think about the world, can be scary. I think it's most frightening when you think about all the possibilities. I say it all the time, but living in an imagined (possibly icky) future is not living.

Life is better lived in the now.

 

During this season take the time to savor the subtle changes in the leaves. Enjoy crunching leaves beneath your feet, as cliche as that may seem. Notice the way the night sky looks different, the clouds that give glimpses of what eternity could look like. Take the time to take in the beauty of the trees with no leaves to obscure the intricate details of their limbs. 

Take heart, and know that it will all come back around again because God never changes. 

 

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17

 



 

Be brave, misfits, and be where you are.

 

 

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