blue green flame

snow makes everything so unbelievably quiet.  you can see the passage of time by the inches of white on the tree branches- on the railings. and things seems smaller, closer and i feel smaller.  foot prints just left, soon gone- our impact on the world, covered.  we are reminded of the earth as it was before us, and as it will be- which feels forgottenly natural.

merry christmas!

the winter in north carolina feels very edwardian.  in the living room, there is a fire in the fireplace constantly and people sit and read, and play and talk.  people go off for walks after meals and then return to sit and be around the fireplace.  there is good food and lots of it, and surprisingly little media. time for being still with others.

today zoe was sitting by the fire, just staring into it pensively.  she was noticing the different colors of the flames- the small flickers of green and blue that sometimes appear. she was quiet- which is rare, she had no toys around her, which is rare.  i asked her what she was thinking about.  "nothing."  but she was thinking. a few minutes later she asked if i really wanted to  know what she was thinking about and i said yes.

she said she'd "let her feelings get the best of her".
i asked what she meant.
she said she was thinking about living in san francisco and remembering people there and certain memories- some which were good and some which were bad and some that made her mad.  she felt confused about it and overall- sad- and then bad that she'd let all this affect her.

i told her this feeling was called nostalgia.  what a complicated feeling it is.  a feeling made up of so many feelings- a feeling i know well.  she had interpreted her confusion with it as isolating. as part of her nonverbal learning disability.  no, i told her, it's a confusing feeling for all of us- it is something we all share. i told her she'd described it really well.  that her affect- her somberness- her pensivity, was very appropriate.  she had beautifully shown and spoke of her feelings.

this is a big deal. this is a big change.  usually for zoe- complicated emotions are overwhelming- and their sum is anger or frustration- and that is what gets communicated.  she doesn't like the confusion- she doesn't know what to do with feelings that seem to contradict each other- joy and happiness mixed with sadness.  she already doesn't like feeling sad- so confusing sad- really gets her mad.  this is another step in her growth, like watching 'where the red fern grows'.    (www.bestillandknowkw.blogspot.com/2010/10/where-red-fern-grows.html)

this is a really important step in her right brain development.  to allow herself to feel and process complex emotions- to not just react to them- to not avoid them.  i explained to her that feeling nostalgic is a normal and important human emotion- that feeling it connects her- it doesn't isolate her- but that when we're feeling nostalgic we often do feel alone in our memories- and that is OK.  that is part of the feeling.  she had a brief moment of mild stickiness- she calmly asked why i hadn't told her this before. (that is one her "sticky thoughts"- the "why didn't you tell me that before?" said randomly over very silly things like in response to me saying " i just had a delicious muffin".) i explained that it's a more grown up emotion and it's the first time she'd really expressed it in a way that we could talk about it. i told her i was so proud of her for sitting with the feeling- for letting herself be in that place i know was uncomfortable for her, and then for so eloquently sharing it.

i'm looking ahead to this next year.  this year of major preparation- of house selling and fund raising and packing but of also of living and working and teaching.  i'm looking back at this first half of our homeschooling "5th grade" year- at what we've accomplished and what we've not finished.  i so easily get lost in the specifics, in the schedule, in the grammar of it- the minor keys.  so it's good to have this break - this time of reflection- of step back- of big picture viewing. a time to be reminded of our real goals.  to sit by the fire with her as the snow falls.  to see a flicker of her deep learning- that blue-green flame in the midst of the roaring fire.

where the red fern grows

moments of break through come at the strangest times- or in the strangest ways. today it came with a movie from my childhood.

this week has been a great home-school week for zoe and me.  we've calmly worked- we've not over done it- but a lot of learning has taken place.

she now goes to two classes through the LEAD home school organization and she goes by herself. this is big.  she's with about 6-8 kids and one teacher and she's doing it! she's learning- she's not horribly distracted or distracting ( or at least i haven't heard about it if she is).  she likes it.  she's made some friends.  she is happy.  at home this gives us a bit of structure- we need to get things done to work around the classes- it's good motivation.

today she had class and then we came home and were able to get through a lot of things- copy work, math, poetry, piano, greek mythology, grammar, and vocabulary.  i actually didn't hear the words "OH why did you help me!" not even once!  even when i helped her remember how to play two of her songs on the piano- she thanked me.  she wanted to 'google' information on the vikings- her class is on vikings- so we did this. and this lead to looking for a movie about vikings since we'd accomplished so much.  we couldn't find one- but we did find "where the red fern grows".

now i'm remembering this from my childhood- the book and the movie.  i'm remember it being about a boy and his beloved dogs.  i remember it being very poignant and a bit sad- but i can't remember why.  so i tell zoe that it's a great movie and set her up to watch.  she eats lunch and is fully engaged in the movie and i'm running around cleaning up and periodically watching scenes with her.  then i sit to watch the last 10 minutes.  the part when one of the dogs, big dan, dies trying to protect his sister dog and billy his owner.  it's very sad.  then it gets worse.  the sister dog, little annie, dies of grief over big dan's death and over their graves the red fern grows.  zoe is trying to process this.  she's upset and curious about why and how little annie actually dies.  so we talk about it, about the sorrow and about the loss.  and then she wants to see her dog, so she feeds her and watches her eat. and then she looses it.

she says, "this is just so sad!" and starts weeping.  and she's sitting on the floor crying.  so i gathered her up and sat her on my lap- and then it turned into anger.  she was angry at me.  "why did you tell me to watch this terrible movie!" and she began trying to pinch me and slap me (in her very gentle zoe way of not actually wanting to hurt me, but to explain her feelings).  i reminded her that there were beautiful parts and sad parts to the movie- the boy's love and friendship with his dogs was beautiful, and that their dying really is sad and that it's OK to feel it.  that i was so proud of her - because it meant that she understood how billy felt.  that she was able to relate - that she could empathize.  i told her not to confuse sadness with anger- that they are separate- that sadness isn't always bad.  for zoe anger is easier.  anger is daily, she runs from sad and i'm not fully sure why.  i told her it's OK to cry and allow herself to feel sorrow.  that understanding other peoples feelings is a really important part of living.  and she put down her little fists and cried in my arms.

this is huge.

this is progress.

this is her right brain engaged.

zoe has never reacted much to movies except for humor.  unlike all her friends or classmates or brothers, she was never scared at a disney film or cried during ET.  she wasn't able to relate on that level- she didn't connect herself to the story line- to the characters. 

we hit another developmental milestone.

we're working on holding that tension- not avoiding an entire movie because of a sad ending, not all or nothing, living with the good and the hard-having the ability to feel  the spectrum of emotion- because that is real. that is life.

it's another velveteen rabbit moment- zoe becoming more real, more alive. and it hurts. but it's worth it.