Perhaps we are trees?

I have been reading a book about trees off and on for a while now.  I like it because I can pick it up anytime and leave it for months before finding it again. Today I found it while my youngest was snuggling in for a nap.  

So, the underlying “science” is that trees spend their time growing and producing nutrients and sharing what they create with their fellow trees, particularly their “family” members and other species that are “friendly”.  In the late summer, sometimes even end of July, trees begin to cut back their production for themselves and their “family” and “friend” trees.  They have worked hard to provide for themselves and others and their tree bodies are full and heavy so they start to conserve their energy. They prepare for a survival through an environment that will be cold and dark for a while, followed by a new season of growth.

Did you know that a deciduous tree’s version of “dullness” is actually autumn?  The removal of chlorophyll from their leaves makes them “dull” by tree standards and the remaining colours, which were always present, are now the ones we see.  Their green life is gone.  These colours of early autumn are still bright to our eyes and the eyes of insects who are looking for bark to burrow in for the winter.  The more intense tree dullness (brighter Autumn colours) indicate health and strength and signal to bugs to find a less healthy tree to winter in so that they will not be subjected to the tree’s defenses. 

A deciduous tree is relatively new (and innovative) in comparison to coniferous trees.  They go dormant and suspend their growth and require cold to germinate and their lifespan decreases if they are not able to move through their natural dormant periods.  They need to have a period of time when the water is drained from their branches and trunks (water in branches and trunks in freezing weather would kill the tree).  Dormancy allows for a plant’s survival in its environment.

The strongest contrast between dormancy and life are trees in the cherry family.  Trees in the cherry family begin to “dull” in July, germinate in the cold, and they are among the first tree to blossom in the spring.  My favourite is the Service Berry with it's orange-red autumn leaves - so beautiful.  The spring blossoming is also breathtakingly beautiful. In Japanese culture, the cherry tree and blossom, (sakura), has been a symbol that life is both spectacularly beautiful and awesomely short. The cherry tree kind of represents the great contrast between death and renewal, fragility and beauty, hope and pain.

To my friends who are feeling tired and quiet, dull and heavy, drained... perhaps we are just trees responding to our environment, preparing ourselves for the future?  Maybe instead of pushing against these feelings, it would be helpful to simply sit with some “friendly” trees who are starting to feel dormant themselves?  Perhaps we will feel comforted by our connection and shared experience?😉

My blog posts usually emerge in a burst and I don't always remember what I was reading that inspired me. I just know that I'm always reading something, even if it is short or frivolous. Today's blog I actually kept track of some of my reading inspiration.  Not all of it but some.  Here they are.

http://dyckarboretum.org/why-do-plants-go-dormant-in-the-winter/

http://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/wilderness-resources/stories/how-do-trees-survive-winter

The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben

https://www.buildingbeautifulsouls.com/symbols-meanings/tree-symbolism-meanings/cherry-tree-meaning-symbolism/

Triggered Empathetic Responses

Last night was a beautiful summer evening, so my family and I stayed out enjoying it well after dark.  I had the baby and she wanted to look at the blinking lights in the shop windows.  Those bright blinking lights are so appealing to babies.  There were some loud people around, one man was especially loud but she ignored it all.  I took her lead and let her little pointed finger determine where we would go next and what we would talk about.  At one point, she looked up at the night sky and as she looked up, I supported her soft little head so that she could look ALLLL the way up for as long as she wanted.  At one point she realized I was supporting her head and I said “I’ve got you!” and gave her a gentle kiss.  The whole feeling must have felt quite lovely because after the first gentle kiss, she touched my hand and leaned in for another gentle kiss.  We did as many gentle kisses as she wanted and when she was done being kissed she just laid there, with my hand supporting her head, looking at the night sky.  In that moment, instead of following her gaze again, I looked up and realized that the tough, scruffy looking guy having a smoke and a beer had been watching us the whole time.  He smiled at me and when our eyes connected I saw that by witnessing this interaction between my daughter and I, he had softened.  He seemed to be more gentle also. We didn't say anything, we just connected with our eyes and enjoyed the shared peaceful moment. I thought perhaps that by witnessing our tenderness, we had triggered his empathetic response and he was now experiencing this soft, lovely evening, just as we were.  He was no longer fronting or swaggering, he was there with us, peaceful and gentle.

The empathetic response is really so amazing.  It has an actual name " Emotional Contagion" but I'm not sure how many people recongnize that name.  This response happens regularly but we’re often unconscious to it.

I unschool my kids right now but this was the first full back to school week for local kids and I was noticing the range of responses.  For some kids, the return to school this week was still exciting.  For others it was already becoming a familiar routine.  And for some, they had strong reactions, especially on Sunday night and Monday morning.  Having supply taught and worked in Ontario public schools as a teacher, I know that school and classroom environments vary widely.  Some are lovely and inclusive and non-judging while others have power dynamics and subtle undertones. Think for a moment how your child’s learning environment triggers their emotional contagion.  (If your child is sensitive, you’ll probably be more aware of their empathetic response.)  Loving and kind gestures within your child’s earshot and eyesight will likely trigger them to also feel loved and cared for.  They’ll be willing to take risks and approach life with a sense of curiosity.  If your child is in an environment where they witness harshness and power-over dynamics, even if it is not done *to them*, they may respond as though it was. A power-over environment can encourage a child to experiment with their own power-over behavior (aka bully culture).  Or they may react with tears Sunday night or Monday morning or “clingy” or eager to please behavior when you are together.  They may appear agitated and aggressive as their fight response runs its course through their body.  They may not even be able to articulate it because as adults, we are often unconscious of it ourselves.  In fact, as children, we were often taught to dismiss our own unidentified, uneasy feelings by our well-meaning care-givers, though the most sensitive of us find that an impossible task.  But as parents caring for our children in conscious ways, we can choose something different.

If your child is loving school, I am celebrating their joy with you.  There is nothing better than seeing your child feeling confident and content. If your child is signaling distress, I encourage you to be their support and advocate.  Alternatives exist.  Your responses have a big influence on how they value themselves and interpret the world.  Their empathetic response is triggered all the time and helping them to develop an awareness of it will honor their experience and give them a stronger voice and advocate.

What is it that kids like about Learning in the Woods?

For the past two weeks, I have been spending more time at Learning in the Woods and I have had a unique opportunity to observe more than engage with the children.  I found myself thinking, what is it that kids like about Learning in the Woods.  Here is what I discovered.

“No Have-To’s” or “Should’s”:  The kids are happy to be with us because they know they are not going to be pushed or cajoled into doing anything.  Our daily schedule is a welcome circle, FREE CHOICE, and a good bye circle.  Truly, the most valuable thing we have to offer kids is the freedom and space to pursue their interests, explore their feelings, engage with others, and just be.  This is an environment that cultivates mindfulness.  That is not to say that our time together is full of beautiful, calm moments…just the opposite actually.  It is the messiness and swirling chaos that produces moments of awareness.  That is learning.  Those moments of awareness help to fuel the next discovery and interaction.  

Supportive Caregivers: We have amazing facilitators.  We hire authentic people who value kids and understand about choice and freedom and self-awareness and respect.  The learning that happens in a schedule-free environment is not always easy to navigate, so believe me when I say, our facilitators are so very busy supporting kids the whole time. Having no schedule means that there are more occasions for children to directly or indirectly request support and our facilitators are there through every painful and joyful emotion.  Tanya once said about Learning in the Woods participant A, “I love her.  And I mean that.  I love her because I have sat with her through every emotion, the highest highs and the lowest lows and when you sit with someone through every emotion possible like that, you cannot help but love them at the end of it.”  Drop the mic.

A Safe Place for Full Expression of Who They Are: Kids like this camp because they can show up and express the fullest version of themselves.  There is no need to edit their likes or dislikes or interests.  We love nature AND Moana, Paw Patrol, Popular MMO’s and dancing to Bruno Mars.  We do our best to #nurturethewholechild and not just the parts that make for pleasing others and nice Instagram photos. 

A Safe Place for Full Expression of What They Feel:  Kids can be sad, angry, scared, or frustrated and no one will rush them through those feelings.  Have you ever been rushed through a feeling by a well-intentioned loved one?  It sucks.  It adds a layer of discomfort to a situation that already feels not so good, which is why you are expressing your discomfort out loud to begin with!  At Learning in the Woods, tears can roll, as there is no shame in crying.  Angry voices can shout or growl.  They can be noisy and rambunctious in their joy.  We are human and this is a place where we welcome a full expression of humanity.

Ultimately, we see kids as full humans.  Their requests and interests and worries and questions are treated with respect that the children CAN FEEL.  They know they are being listened to with respect and that sense of respect is what cultivates a bond and connection that allows the kids to feel safe. Kids feel confident to take risks and grow and learn in ways that ARE IMPORTANT TO THEM.  As an adult, don't you wish for these things too?

Hint Hint, the next blog is about Self-Connection in the Woods, our adult version of Learning in the Woods.

Camp beginnings

The first day of camp can be intense for parents, kids, and facilitators. On the first day of camp, more than any other day, facilitators have to be prepared to just go with the flow and slow the pace so they can effectively create a safe space for kids. Ultimately, we trust the kids will show us what they need to feel comfortable in this new environment, we just need to create a space where can express and we can listen.

Today I arrived at Learning in the Woods before welcome circle.  Kids were playing, things were quiet, and the mood was a bit uncertain as kids tried to figure out how things work in this new space.  Facilitators were extra busy, trying to meet all the needs.  FYI, all the needs on the first morning of camp seem to be expressed intensely and simultaneously from these young people who were trying to figure it all out. Luckily our facilitators are ready for this!

When there was a lull, the facilitators invited everyone to join the welcome circle. Suddenly there was a cry.  C, 4 years old, had tripped and she burst into loud tears. Grace spoke to her quietly and brought her back to base camp.  C got her special toy from her backpack and a friend who had attended Learning in the Woods camp earlier in the summer, offered to sit beside her.  She was crying quietly and little one-lookers listened as Tanya said,  “C got hurt.  She is crying.  She is hugging her turtle toy because it helps her feel better.”  Everyone looked at C.  “Would you like to tell us about how you got hurt C?”  C stood up and walked over to the spot where she had tripped.  The entire group jumped up to follow her. This was an empathetic response as much as it was done out of curiosity.  

They listened quietly, respectfully, as C recounted what happened. Some asked questions or made comments.  Others just listened. I suspect C felt heard by the group as she stopped crying and walked back to our welcome circle looking calm and peaceful.  I suspect the group felt reassured too, as they were calm also. 

And so, the morning continued. We finished circle. We explored the space. Whistles were blown a little too often when there was no emergency. “The Machine” was built with some disagreement and some cooperation.  Snacks were eaten with gusto when kids were hungry.  No one was rushed.  There was time for everything.  All feelings were welcome.    

C’s fall was the first group bonding experience for these campers and it was rooted in gentleness and care. It set the tone for the rest of the morning and probably the rest of the week too.  By caring for one member of the group, everyone else was reassured that they will be cared for also.  There is no rush.  We can all just care for each other and figure things out as we go.  That message is so reassuring, isn't it?  What a beautiful beginning.

The gift of discomfort

Yesterday I felt so insecure.  One of the great gifts of trying to do something outside of the "norm" is that there are so many opportunities for me to be humbled.  Yesterday I had a big humble.  I got to see how I fail and how I struggle. It's a huge gift to see that but it's also uncomfortable and difficult to live with. 

I experienced this humbling message right before I hosted a play date. There were new friends, old friends, and their kids all coming to my house for some fun on the beach.  Yet, minutes before their arrival, all I wanted to do was be still and quiet with my humbling pain. I didn’t tell my friends I was feeling raw and insecure. I wasn't fake with those around me because that might be denying my pain but I wasn't trying to connect deeply either because connecting deeply wasn't possible when I felt that kind of insecurity. So, I just sat with those feelings inside me and allowed gentle friendships to carry me for a bit. It was riding a wave and allowing other people to keep me floating for a while.  Keeping quiet but floating helped me to get me to a space that felt a bit calmer and safer.   

The safety didn’t actually mean processing the insecure feelings! Safety was connecting to a friend who “gets” it like I do.  It was nice to just by listen to her, something I enjoy doing, and feel as though I have something to offer. Safety came while fulfilling a commitment and realizing “I am feeling so sad, I’m just not able to fulfill this commitment the way I had hoped.” Being honest with myself while still honoring my commitment met my need for authenticity. Listening to another beautiful friend express her strength and self-awareness of her challenges made me feel thankful to get to watch her as she blooms. Feeling insecure kept me quiet and what I received in that quiet seemed more beautiful as a result.

Somehow, with those moments of safety, the insecure feelings just lived in me. I didn't try to understand them. I just went about my day and the humbling feeling gave me clarity to see the gifts that discomfort can bring. In that way, the discomfort and insecurity was honored.

I think this is sometimes the way life goes.  Sometimes we feel insecure and we get to choose what we do with that feeling.  Disconnecting from it, though it is painful, dulls me to the beauty of life. Processing it in the moment wasn't actually going to serve me either, it would have felt like I was rushing through the feeling or spinning it in my head.  Sitting with it, even though it was uncomfortable, gave me a new perspective which is maybe the point of that feeling anyway.

As a parent, partner, friend, and contributer to the world, perhaps you’ll be given the same gift I was yesterday; a gift that brings you rawness and clarity to see the beauty in this world with fresh eyes. 

How I cut down on sibling fighting

My kids have been erupting into physical fights a lot this past week and I just can’t stand it.  This is a picture of the cause of most of their fights this week.  That's right, it's a pinwheel, bought at a big box store for $1.99. Pinwheels are awesome and I have two kids who love pinwheels.  So why did I only buy one of them?!?  I'm not sure but I asked that question aloud so often this week that my kids would sometimes stop fighting and say, "ya mumma, why did you buy us only one?!"  For my own sanity, I should have bought none at all or two of them.  I blame this "mistake" on my attempts at minimalism mixed with my sometimes idealistic approach to parenting; "By buying one, my kids will have the opportunity to play together and perhaps work on their negotiation skills".  Ha.  Not this week.

A Facebook friend, Sarah Rosensweet, is a Toronto-based parenting coach and she regularly does workshops on this sort of thing.  The other day she asked her FB friends “What is your biggest parenting challenge?” I responded flatly with “sibling fighting”.  Sarah (with an emphasis on "sweet" in her lsat name Rosensweet) said “That’s so hard!”  and provided a link to her blog post on sibling rivalry (found here).

Sarah’s tips were things I do and promote; empathize with your children’s feelings, stay neutral and help them if they need it, connect with your children as a preventative measure, and help your children connect with each other. Recognizing that I already “know” this, I needed to reframe. My Nonviolent Communication (NVC) reading prompted me to view the fighting as an expression of unmet needs… Sometimes they just don’t know how to navigate a situation and need my help finding the words to negotiate with each other. And my kids have been amazing with the arrival of the baby but I cannot fill their buckets the same way that I could when there were only two kids. OK. I could see that I am not able to meet their needs as easily as I used to and their fighting is an expression of their unmet needs…but why was it bothering *ME* so much?


I reread Sarah’s response. It was such a simple expression of empathy - “That’s so hard!” I lingered there, realizing I needed more of that. I started to realize that even if I recognize their need for love or support, I am not always able to meet it and that is hard for me! Their fighting reminds me of my challenges as a mom to three young children and of my own unmet needs. In fact, when they are fighting, I actually add to the problem by yelling my need into the mix; “Stop fighting! I can’t stand all this fighting!” And then I try to use my parental power to dominate the situation to stop the fighting. Oh goodness. That's not what I want. I need some empathy and I want to stop the cycle of fighting, power, and domination.


If I were a little more NVC in that moment I would say “When I hear you fighting I feel frustrated that I cannot meet your needs!” or “When I hear you fighting I feel overwhelmed because I need a break and there is no one here to give me a break right now.” Or “When I hear you arguing, I feel irritated because I need quiet to put the baby to sleep. I can help you better if she is asleep.” I kept going; identifying my needs and sometimes making the requests I wish I had thought of in the moment. I started to soften.


The shift in my mind was unexpected. With enough self empathy, I wasn't triggered to throw my needs into the ring when both kids were loudly, violently expressing theirs. I could see my children’s fighting as simply an expression of their needs. I wasn't pulled into it on that level anymore. Once again, I found myself saying things like “I hear your need for ____. I will help you ____ (now, as soon as the baby is asleep, after I finish peeing, tonight when Daddy gets home, etc.) Just identifying their needs aloud made them feel heard, and even if they were not resolved in the moment, that verbalizing on my part drastically cut down on their fighting, which triggered me less and we began to move out of the fighting/yelling/domination cycle.

But how did our loving, peaceful parenting, bed sharing family get there? Well, although our new baby is wonderful and we love her completely, it has been a huge adjustment for everyone, especially me. She's a new little being with her own set of needs, thrown into the mix of a regular random expression of needs from my two other little beings who count on me to help them navigate, understand, and sometimes meet their needs. Another part of the challenge for me is that the fighting simply exists. I reread Sarah’s first line of her blog post; “Sibling rivalry is so hard for us as parents- even though it’s perfectly common and normal.” Hmmm…sibling rivalry is common and normal. I want peace in my home and peace in my world, but when I am struggling with my own needs, I become reactionary and revert to old habits (of yelling, commanding, domination). My “Stop fighting!” reaction was only reinforcing the very thing I was trying to move past. I bet this yelling under stress is a common reaction to people like me who are new to positive parenting and I can see why my kids are doing it. Dr. Riane Eisler's work has been on my mind lately. All of us are saturated in a culture that teaches us to use power and domination to meet our needs. Without love and empathy, we fall into that old domination script when our needs are unmet.

But we don’t have to. I thought about Sarah’s words to me “It is so hard!” Just a little bit of empathy from Sarah was all I needed to bring me out of that cycle. Marshall Rosenburg would say that’s what every parent needs, every child needs, every one of us needs to move towards more peace. More soft places where we don’t have to fight to get our needs met. It is so hard and yet it’s also so simple. And freeing. Parenting is our children's first environment, their first exposure to culture. If I want a more peaceful world, it's important for me to start with myself.










So, lesson to self: Identify my own needs and empathize with myself so I am able to help others. This is how I spread peace in the world. Got it. Again. At least until next time my needs are high and I forget. Oh and always buy enough pinwheels. ;)

Connections Triad; reflections of camp

Whether it’s a 10 week session throughout a season or a 1 week summer camp, when we reach the end of our scheduled time at Learning in the Woods, everyone experiences a bit of a “high”.  When it’s time to say good-bye, connections are at their strongest, so it’s only natural to look back at our time together and reflect.

Despite being very pregnant, I happened to be on site for the first morning of camp.  It’s such a vulnerable time and not just for the kids!  Facilitators want to help bridge the gap between home and camp but with no prior connection, they really don’t have a choice but to be patient, grounded, and present.  Parents have signed their children up for this nature camp thing but suddenly, uncertainty lingers in the air.  I think the strongest impression for me was witnessing how brave the kids were, venturing into the unknown!  It reminds me of the first days of school as a kindergarten teacher.  With no solid prior connections to draw on, everyone digs deep and pulls from within the best they can. I have so much love for these brave little souls!

Even kids who know what to expect, still have butterflies because they know the dynamics have changed.  My son, who is certainly a regular at Learning in the Woods, was feeling anxious Monday afternoon when we arrived for his session.  While sitting with him as he rode out his nerves, some of the kids who participated in the July camp arrived.  They were excited to be back to their familiar space again, flying down the hill, backpacks bouncing on their backs.  Can you picture it?  Read that line again, if you need to because it was that excited energy bouncing past, that lifted my son from his nerves and carried him down to camp.  And that’s sometimes that's just how it goes.  You spend time building a connection to yourself, so that you can build a connection to others, and somewhere along the way there is a connection to nature too.  There is an ebb and flow that works in this triad and we don’t really think much about it unless we give ourselves time to reflect.  

Tanya, the Learning in the Woods Director, and our facilitators Claudia, Soren, and Laura all did an outstanding job this week, keeping themselves grounded and present so that the kids could walk away with deeper connections.  It was a challenging week though.  To start off it was HOT.  Morning temperatures in our city were often hotter than correlating morning temperatures in Mumbai.  Plus, we ended the week with thunder and rain.  With any kind of intense weather, the facilitators feel pressure to keep kids safe and to fully consider parental concerns.  It’s always a challenge to balance those concerns with what we know of nature connection.  You see, most forest schools do not make weather cancellations and we understand why.  In those weather challenges, the possibility for connection intensifies.  

In the heat we can observe how nature adapts; the bugs burrow into the moist soil to stay cool and hydrated.  Small creatures and birds conserve their energy for cooler times of the day and spend the hottest times in the shade or in the spot in the forest that catches a breeze.  As we observe and connect to nature, we can apply that learning to ourselves.  My son arrived home yesterday after a week in the heat and didn’t feel a need to come into our air conditioned house.  His sister and I retreated after 20 minutes of playing outside but he continued to play and create in our backyard, soaked in humidity.  He had adapted, he had overcome.  He learned to take his cues from nature, listen to his body, adapt, and in the end, he found a new sense of peace in the challenging heat. What a gift!

And it’s not just the physical stamina that grows.  We talk about how when we are experiencing discomfort with our feelings, we don’t actually want to hide them, change them, or rush past them.  The feelings are there for a reason and if we can sit with them, they bring us depth of understanding.  The same is true when experiencing nature. To get a depth of understanding, it really is best to stay with nature.  That means visiting the same location in different seasons and weather conditions so that you can truly understand how it flows and your fit in the natural world.  We looked into making our last day of camp at a location that had something new to explore and some water to splash in (our little stream was completely dry with this drought) but we were so glad that we stayed put!  By staying put, the kids were able to reflect on how comfortable they felt in the forest, even exploring the familiar paths “alone”, thus raising their confidence and their sense of inner peace.  They were also rewarded with RAIN!  With water gushing up to the kids’ ankles, our little stream had the appeal of an exciting new toy!  The played and rejoiced in their new wet forest and their new friendships.  It was the kind of ending that we could not have predicted but we’re so thankful to have received.  By staying put, we are able to experience the complete triad of joyful connection to nature, self, and others.

It was tempting to alter our location or respond to the elements by retreating somehow but we are really glad that we didn’t.  We don’t want to be fearful of nature or the elements because we know that our fear can be passed onto our kids.  We want to instill a respect and appreciation for nature, not a rejection of it when the elements bring us discomfort or don’t fit our vision of the experience.  The human oneness with nature is so ingrained in our very core that sometimes it seems our connection with nature can mirror our comfort level with our own feelings.  We are a culture of of people who often resort to retreating or displacing.  But if we sit with ourselves, find peace in ourselves and in our environment, then, with enough practice, it becomes possible to find peace with others.  And that is the motivation behind this whole thing, the possibilities that come with connection.  We don't want to reject that which feels uncomfortable; those are actually the moments we want to dig deep and connect.  So, that’s how it goes at Learning in the Woods.  There is an ebb and flow to all things and as we finish up our camp season, we are left feeling really thankful for the experience and for this time to reflect.