Look out your window. Look AT your window.
photo by Sandra Dodd




Feed them. Water them. Love them. Wait.
Unschooling advice—or deschooling oneself—does not change just because the kids get older: *Get closer to your child.*
Eliminate those degrees of separation that have started to grow fearful roots in you! When that happens, *you* actually start to *create* that divisiveness and separation in your relationship, by listening to your fear over the needs and interests of your kid. Do not let that monster in! Shine the light on the scary cobwebs and dark stuff.


Even within one breed, there are personalities. Even within one family, some kids are very "with It" about interpersonal realities, and others a little more clue-free.
Still It seems kind and respectful to assume the best when possible, and people can be pleasantly surprised.
If we treat all dogs (and children) as "bad dogs," they will probably respond In that way, too.




When my family started unschooling, my partner and I felt the spirituality of it immediately...
. . . .
It's grounded, realistic, accessible enlightenment.—Janine

I really didn’t like Sandra’s blog, sure there is a lot of useful information, but the “cheerful” tone creeps me out!A lot of useful information would be sufficient, I think, for a daily blog with over 800 subscribers. But I'm creeping someone out with a "'cheerful' tone"?! First, it's not "cheerful" in quotes, not allegedly cheerful. It actually *is* cheerful. 🙂

Living by principles is what helps us keep moving smoothly even though the terrain is new.


In every single case of real-life violence anyone can think of, wouldn't it have been better if the perpetrator had been home on the couch than out causing trouble? 🙂
We have a saying that time has no single measure, that time can be like frost, or lightning, or a tear, or siege, or storm, or sunset, or even like a rock.Try not to measure.



![]() | Everyone can, should, sort through the bad examples and good examples around them and move choice by choice toward whatever their own images of "better" might be. |
Whenever we walk at this particular place, I always look for this tree. It's alone at the top of a cliff, at the curve of the path that winds us eventually back to where we started.
I love its solitary presence.
I love its asymmetry, shaped, in part, by the strong winds coming off the ocean.
I love that it stands at a fork, with one path bending softly toward a return, and one leading to the edge of the cliff.
I love that I can see Ethan climbing and resting in it in my memory.
Today, I loved its hard shadows and blue backdrop because that meant the smoke had parted, at least for now. It looks beautiful in the mist too. It's a beautiful tree.