Thursday, May 31, 2007

On Growing Children

I've decided to indulge myself and take up some space on the blog with some musings on motherhood and nurturing a human being as opposed to or as is similar and different from a plant, as the case may be.

With the garden, I have an idea about the design, or maybe not, but can set something into the ground, prune another thing back to the wall, or yank a plant out alltogether, step back, or even step away for a few days or a week or longer and see what happens, how things are developing and at that point leave it be or change my mind again and modify.

Nurturing a child, as I have learned, and have been instructed on numerous occasions by the head teacher at my child's school, is not something to do by the seat of the pants, which rather sums up my approach to gardening. Instead it requires some serious thought about just what are your intentions.

In other words you should cogitate early on about what you do and don't want to pass along to your child, and then go about altering your behavior so that they won't pick up all those nasty habits. Or, it could have more to do with ensuring you impart the tidbits of wisdom that you've selected especially for your child, ones that will carry them through the years, echoing in their hearts and minds and helping them along as they travel their own journey.

One thing Henry Mitchell has to say in his book The Essential Earthman about gardening, which I have come to believe is as true about childrearing is that:
"Your garden will reveal your self. Do not be terrified of that. You have as
much right to live as--well, at least one may alwasy say, "nevertheless, here I
am." Gardening [and childrearing] is not some sort of game by which one proves
superiority over others, nor is it a marketplace for the display of elegant
things that others cannot afford. It is, on the contrary, a growing work of
creation, endless in its changing elements. It is not a monument or an
achievement, but a sort of traveleing, a kind of pilgrimage you might say, often
a bit grubby and sweaty though true pilgrims do not mind that. A garden is not a
picture, but a language, which is of course the major art of life. "

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