Category: The Healing Journey

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Hard Stuff Out of Nowhere

Tonight got weird.

My younger son revealed that he had learned an interesting fact about his birth date from another home educated boy.

It turns out my son was born the same day Osama Bin Laden was kiled. So after s’mores and a shower and just before bed, we start a deep dive into the events of 9/11.

I wasn’t ready for it, I was tired from a long day of hiking amd adventuring.

The most important learning happens when you don’t want it.

I didn’t know how far to go, but they knew more than I expected and led the conversation with their questions.

It didn’t last long, but it was emotionally taxing. Once they got into bed, I returned to the Tiny Estates communal fire to decompress. A couple had sat to make their own s’mores and I thought they’d let me peacefully punch out my blog post.

We exchanged pleasantries and I couldn’t resist further conversation. In a strange and awkward couple of sentences I used the words “wife” and “girlfriend.” Woof. “Okay, I’m just going to throw this out so I’m not dancing around: I lost my wife in February of 2018.”

“Um, we both lost our spouses. We’ve been together seven years and married for four.”

I’m reeling from the meaning of this chance meeting. I’m blessed by meeting people who have thrived through traumas.

Today was all about Jordan Peterson’s Ninth Rule: Assume That The Person You Are Listening To Might Know Something You Don’t.

Earlier in the day I had a long chat with a grandmother on a sunny hike. We connected on Christian values of service and ministry, honoring God’s chosen path for oneself, and living an adventurous life. Then I discovered how my sons were learning through their friends. Then I discovered a deeper, if still awkward, bravery in talking with more strangers.

It’s enough to catalog it all for now. Understanding it is too much.

God bless, I appreciate and thank you,

Jason

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Unschooling and Emotional Healing

This week marked my wedding anniversary. My sons aren’t aware of that fact directly, but we’ve noticed Mary’s absence more in recent weeks.

I don’t know why exactly, but I’m watching and listening to them (and myself) everyday.

It’s one of the unexpected blessings of home education. I get to observe and learn about my children and their emotional states like few parents can.

When they lost their mother, I was there everyday and nothing was unusual or new about that. We were accustomed to being around one another all day and riding the highs and lows of life. We were able to adjust the things we couldn’t manage without her and maintain most of our daily activities.

We get to heal together and there’s no hiding of pain.

That can mean a pressure cooker of emotions at times, but we always come out stronger for the adversity.

God bless, I appreciate and thank you,

Jason

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Sunday Gratitudes

This one isn’t focused on the learning lifestyle, but that is one huge blessing in my life that fuels many of the others. I’m doubly blessed that I have no doubts that my late wife wanted this educational path for our sons for as long as it will work for them.

As a widower, I became more deeply grateful for my girlfriend this weekend. We were watching a movie without the boys and there were death and funeral scenes. There was a handsome lead who lost his father in adulthood. A wave of sadness overcame me as I thought of how much Mary deserved to see her sons grow into men.

I don’t know how Maureen, my girlfriend, handles these things so well. She accepts this part of me, this other woman who I miss dearly. She is there for me in these confusing moments where the past clashes with the present and future.

When I have this intense internal conflict, it is beautiful to know that her patient caring is there for me.

God bless, I appreciate and thank you,

Jason

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Learning Lifestyle: A Day Off

My sons slept in.

I celebrated 32 coffee-free days with an affogato with my girlfriend.

The boys joined a friend’s birthday party for slip-and-slide fun.

We turned our brains off and enjoyed a sunny pre-fall day.

We generally have very busy Satudays. It was nice to take one off and rejuvenate ourselves.

God bless, I appreciate and thank you,

Jason

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This one is not for Doomers.

One of the reasons I have trouble thinking COVID-19 is a global conspiracy is what is happening in the public school system.

—
Caveats:

1. I listen to conspiracy theorists, they often share information that injures the gatekeepers of knowledge (government, corporate media); and therefore, will not make it into “reputable” sources.

2. I don’t need a conspiracy to know that government will take every opportunity to assume more power. This is a basic human desire and when alternative incentives are reduced, it is driven by the survival instinct.
—

At the very least, this is a terribly thought out conspiracy.

With school shutdowns, many people are being forced to consider homeschooling. This has never been the case before. Almost every pre-COVID discussion I’ve had with parents who have chosen public/private school starts with a remedial course on homeschooling.

Now, people are being exposed to the principles every day. Some are engaging to varying degrees and many more are seeing their friends and family try a different educational path.

Ultimately, fewer children will be returning to the classroom. Whether it’s those who love virtual/remote learning, radical unschoolers, or the infinite rainbow between, schools will look differently.

I’ve been concerned with what that will mean for the home education community, but as our ranks grow, we are sure to gain strong champions for the cause of educational freedom.

This postive change of perspective was inspired by the following conversation:

Tom Woods Interviews Jeff Deist on Silver Linings from the COVID Dystopia

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It’s Messy

We don’t share this part enough. Road trips, camping, and adventures contribute to a disordered home life. I’m writing this quickly so I can get to cleaning today, but it’s okay. All of these pictures have books, puzzles, projects, and evidence of our learning lifestyle.


As you embark on your #unschool, #homeschool, or #virtuallearning journey, remember to give yourself grace.

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Essential Arts

We had tastes of normalcy this week.

My sons played and watched music; viewed, talked about, and interacted with art; and made some art of their own.

I was reminded of how much the term “essential” has been misused in recent months. The arts were discarded for orbitrary biological necessities.

To live is to learn amd adapt. It is not to eat and sanitize. An animal knows precisely how much food it needs and how clean its body needs to be.

Humans have souls and minds that need to be nourished no less than their bodies.

Our obsession with Science has turned the trinity of our existence into a hierarchy of convenience. We have gotten very good at observing and explaining the physical world, so that becomes a comfort zone for us, a place for experts to tell us what our body needs while ignoring the mind and soul. We boast a bit of knowledge about the mind, so it gets a place in the hierarchy just below the body. Many reduce the mind to a physical phenomenon, nesting it neatly in our familiarity with the material.

The soul doesn’t fit into our obsession with the concrete. It can’t be summarized in a textbook. It can’t be generalized and categorized. We can only understand it on an individual basis. Science can help, but it can’t find the answers we seek.

We found a little more balance this week. We had homemade smoothies; pushed our bodies on the jiu-jitsu mats; learned about the Holocaust, Caravaggio, and cinematography; and and fed our souls with yoga, prayer, music, and art.

As tricky as it may seem, it can be made simple: the learning lifestyle is primarily learning about yourself. As you nourish yourself, you will expand your understanding of the physical, non-physical, inner, and outer aspects of existence.

God bless, I appreciate and thank you,

Jason

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Tribal Realignments

For months our casual relationships were strained. Divisions grew between us as differing media accounts, risk assessments, political positions, and governmental measures formed.

We were limited in our contact with one another. Impersonal, online slights were never softened by social contact or context.

The truth of my homeschool community is that it thrives on social contact. No matter how much our politics or approaches may divert, we come together with our children and recognize in each other the fundamental focus of our educational choices.

Without those meetups, many fell victim to their own ideology and entrenched themselves in easily-accessed online communities. Carl Jung said, “People don’t have ideas, ideas have people.” We let ourselves be possessed by our ideas.

But for all the bonds that were stressed and broken, there are new, stronger bonds forming. Bonds based on the same focus on our children and a recognition of each other’s good will.

Those who are willing to meet in person and allow each individual to choose his or her level of assumed risk are forming new tribes. Not based on ideology, but a love for our children and fellow man. These tribes are based on grace for those who choose not to join us, as our arms remain wide and welcoming.

It is these tribes that will preserve the things we all love. Music, theatre, sports, homeschool meetups, martial arts, family reunions, parties, weddings, and even memorials. These tribes will not let the paradigm shift away from a social existence among social animals.

In this mad season, “social” falsely preceeds “media” and “distancing.”

I prefer this definition of “social”: living and breeding in more or less organized communities especially for the purposes of cooperation and mutual benefit : not solitary.

I’m grateful for the new tribes. There’s excitement in this wave of meeting new people. I can hardly keep straight the soccer players, homeschoolers, jiu-jitsu practitioners, and yogis I’ve met in recent weeks. We see each other and share big smiles as we dive into the things we share and love.

God bless, I appreciate you, and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Uncomfort vs. Discomfort

I’ve struggled with one criticism of those who are less enthusiastic about wearing masks, “What, you can’t handle being uncomfortable to save lives?”

Put aside the hyperbole, belittling, debatables, and lack of compassion in that statement, and all I hear is Biff Tannen calling Marty McFly, “Chicken.”

Chicken? Uncomfortable? Getting out of my comfort zone borders on an obsession. I started jiu-jitsu at 41 and I’ve got huge guys laying their weight on my chest a couple nights a week while the intructor has to remind me that I’m not going to die. I mean, I’m small for a soccer player, jiu‐jitsu? Talk about discomfort.

There’s a clear difference in the way I use the terms, “discomfort” and “uncomfortable.”

Discomfortable things are what make us stronger as we explore unknown parts of the world, inner and outer. They are the challenges that press out assumptions and squeeze out weakness. They literally, and figuratively, make our world larger through overcoming them.

Uncomfortable things are signals that something is wrong. They tell us we shouldn’t have had that peanut butter fudge shake or stayed up so late last night. Being uncomfortable is a sign of not honoring one’s mind, body, and soul.

Uncomfort is focusing on breathing behind a mask because you feel the anxiety creeping up. Discomfort is focusing on breathing while a sparing partner presses his weight down on you, trying to wear you down and scare you when you needn’t

Uncomfort is being in a relationship that doesn’t feel right, but you don’t know how to express it. Discomfort is the conversation you have with a romantic partner when something is wrong and you want to get to the bottom of it.

I lived too long being uncomfortable. Hangovers, irregular bowels, easy frustrations, anxiety, fatigue, and numerous other symptoms of not taking care of myself. I was programmed, as many are, to live with these uncomforts as the price of an exciting life. Heck, I see people accepting uncomfortable existences in exchange for mundane and transient peace.

Being okay with being uncomfortable has allowed Americans to become sicker and sicker. We don’t listen to our own bodies and have become disconnected. Our society was primed to be a victim of a virus with a very specific target.

Discomfort is where we go to do the most important learning. Uncomfort is telling us we’re going the wrong way.

God bless, I appreciate you, and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Learning Through the Generations

My sons found a stash of pictures of their mom and set them up around the house last week. We have a ton of pictures, many in frames, and they tend to rotate in and out of our living spaces. It’s always a bit of a mystery, but our rhythms dictate how often we want to be reminded of Mary’s absence.

They brought out a lot this time. It’s been tough to turn corners and be surprised by those memories. Not crippling or especially sad, but unnerving.

I wonder why I’m not crippled. Widowhood and single parenting seems enough to crush a human spirit. Top that with a pandemic that looks a lot like your late wife’s dis-ease and, well, I don’t know why I’m still standing. Insanely, I’m thriving. I’m taking on new challenges, making new friends, and loving the time I get to spend with my girlfriend. Just typing that out doesn’t make any sense.

I got another clue tonight as I thought a out the educational blessing that my grandparents have been. They lived outside of London during the Blitzkrieg and have related those stories to my sons. They were children at the time and my sons are fascinated by the downed German bombers and evacuation of children to the coal mining country.

A novel cold virus can’t stop people who have lived through watching the end of their street leveled by bombs. They’ve been living as full a life as they can manage and seeing their great-grandsons whenever they can.

I didn’t have to learn a zest for life through hardship, I was raised by parents and grandparents who had done the hard work and modeled positive, meaningful behavior.

When hardship came, I didn’t have a Shut Down button. I had a British Carry On petrol pedal fueled with a whole lot of American muscle.

I learned something about myself today. I’m a little less of a mystery. I’m blessed by the hard work of generations before me and doubly blessed that my sons are witnessing the unstoppable nature of their genetic code.

God bless, I appreciate you, and thank you for reading,

Jason