And we're Home

Perhaps it's time I made an official introduction:

Meet Kelly & Sara, housemates extraordinaire. 

We have spent these last few months living life in all of its nooks and crannies and--

since nooks and crannies are full of mess as well as joy--

we have loved and learned a lot about each other, 

and about ourselves.

Our living of life has involved 

intentionality most often in the form of food,

 like this early fall picnic

where we took advantage of a lovely place, 

and learned more of the loveliness of each other.

Our fooding has also occurred in the form of celebration,

like this sushi dinner for Kelly's birthday early in October.

Most recently, 

our celebrating occurred surrounding the incident of Sara's birth

when we cooked a giant brinner

for a collection of friends, 

and spent the remainder of the evening in games

and serenade.

Laughing, living, eating, celebrating.

Life; Home.

A sneak peek

I'm in full dissertation mode.  The joke in our house has become 'the answer to every question is: dissertation'.  I am consumed, and the only word that stumbles out of my mouth when pressed is....dissertation.

So, since it's such a part of my life at the moment, and since this bloggy is supposedly about my life, here's the rationale I've spent most of last night and this early morning crafting:

...The stories of these children and these questions have led me into further exploration and into the literature regarding young children and young children’s music making, with the aim of discovering how young children take part in their worlds, what it is we can expect from them, and what it is we should be hoping for them.  I am looking to find out what is valuable learning in a piano lesson setting as defined by them, and not defined by my work with older children, the parameters of my own training experience, or the predominant pedagogical resources.  What do young children need in order to have a valuable experience?  It seems to me that they need specific things from me as their ‘teacher’ and from the environment that I—as the adult—have the power to create and control.  I have a responsibility, then, to acquire deep understanding of the lived experience of children.

I approach the understanding of children from a socio-cultural perspective.  A socio-cultural perspective frames an individual child’s development within the social and cultural environments surrounding her (Walsh, 2002).  In those contexts and the relationships between them, the child has a lived experience that fosters and filters the meanings that she makes.  Her lived experience is active, not passive; social, not solitary.   Within the contexts she is situated in, she is a social being with agency who encounters other social beings.  Encounters can become interactions; interactions can grow into relationships.  Encounters, interactions, and relationships are reciprocal processes, in which the child is involved in negotiations of meaning as she learns and develops according to the norms of her culture.

The quality of the meaning made within contexts and in contact with others can be positive or negative, and have long-term effects on the child’s identity, motivation and engagement within specific domains.  As such, the role that adults take when participating with children is crucial for the quality of their long-term being.  An adult who respects and values the child as a being with agency within this sociocultural framework will act as a guide, as a more knowledgeable and experienced being within the culture.  Adult attitudes that recognize the child as an active maker of meaning within contexts and relationships will provide opportunities for children to have optimal experiences of self-directed learning.

This framework is expressed in the five essential human needs identified by Dissanayake (2000).  The five are rooted in and stem from the first: mutuality between mother and infant.  Mutuality is another word for ‘love’, and describes the communicative interactions from the very beginning of the child’s life.  Mutuality is a shared intention from one to another, made of imitation and turn-taking, which extends into other intimate relationships the child becomes a part of.  Those relationships reflect the human need of belonging, as reflected in the ways that children move into group settings and look for value, communication, and emotional connection.  Finding and making meaning is essentially connected to survival, as whatever is valuable resonates with what a human needs in order to exist.  Meaning is thus connected to that which ‘gives life’, ‘feels right’, or ‘makes sense’ (p. 73).  Hands-on competence is the process of making active meaning by being a part of something, successfully. Elaboration is the way that humans extend basic features of sound, expression, and movement and transfer them to ceremony and the arts.  It is an extension beyond basic need that is “an outgrowth, manifestation, and indication to others of strong feeling or care” (p. 130).

These needs resonate deeply in my lived experience as an adult, inseparable from my lived experience as a child.  Acknowledging my own experience of these needs calls up deeply embodied memories that are more than concrete images or specific moments in time.  They are memories that are deeper and richer and fuller; they are holistic and make me whole.  Hence, I have a unique perspective on these needs in the life of children as I dwell in my own experience, as I realize that once a child I am always a child.  Understanding my own experience of Dissanayake’s identified needs points me toward Boyce-Tillman’s (2004) conceptualization of music in our lives.  According to her, our lives cannot be separated out into discrete categories; neither can our knowledge, our music, or our music education.

Boyce-Tillman (2004) rejects the legacy of a science-driven society and its obsession with objective, detached, and impersonal understandings of reality.  Instead, she calls for the inclusion of subjective, belief oriented, and non-causal personal involvement as valid and necessary for understanding humans as beings.....

And now, back to it!  

A Thanksgiving Fast, with Abundance

A few months ago God brought to my attention a few things He considered to be urgent: conditions in my own heart He wanted to conquer, friends in situations dire whose hearts He wanted to heal and feet He wanted to free.  I looked at Him and said "Well, yes  Lord, I agree.  Urgent.  But Lord? These are things I do not know how to do, or I would have done them.  These are things that you have got to move in if you want anything to happen, and in which you have not yet moved.  These are things that reveal to me quite clearly:  I am desperate for you.  So what do you want me to do?"


His answer was, in that gentle insistent way that He has: 
Fast and pray. 


You see, the prayers I'd already been waging were in the right direction but needed a little umph, something to signify: 
Yes. I agree with you, I see what you want to do, I know what you can do,  I am asking you, and I. Am. Desperate.  


Fast and pray, in order to say: I am asking you for You.


And so, I fasted for a day and discovered: God showed up.  In ways I didn't expect, with His Presence and His Heart, with Clarity and Peace, with Sustenance for the waiting on these hard things He's working in.  In Abundance.


In that one day I learned that when you go without, 
you must rely on the power of God to get you through: 
That in your weakness, He is Strong, and Abundantly so.


I learned that when you deny yourself in order to honor God: 
He pours Himself out.


Fast forward to Thanksgiving week, after a few months of learning this lesson of Fasting Abundance.


I find myself in a bit of a desperate situation: Dissertation Proposal Deadline Looming.  And I realize: There's no way I can go to NJ for Thanksgiving and a) maintain my mental and emotional stability and b) get this dang thing done.


And so? I fast from Thanksgiving.


Sort of.

I fast from being with my family, 

and get drenched in the abundance of their love:

My mother sends flowers with a note that 

brings tears to my eyes and shows me: Loved.

My brother sends me a text that 

brings tears to my eyes and shows me: Loved.

My sister-in-law calls me to say they all understand: Loved.

On the day of, the whole gang calls me and yells into the phone how much they miss me: Loved.

Then, on that day, I fast from people and most food groups:

[Dang dissertation.]

until I arrive at Caleb's parents house in the evening for an abundance of love, 

warmth,

good conversation,

good laughs,

and delicious food.

I stood around this table with tears in my eyes, listened to the love and well-wishes in the air, felt the welcome just wrap me up in its arms.  Abundance, all the way around.

And I realized: 

Had I not gone without, 

I would not be aware of the Abundance of the receiving.

Just pouring Himself out,

saying:

I am desperate for you too, and I will show you what I can do.

Abundantly.

Dining room take over...

...and I fear it can only get worse...

It's a mess up in here...

Welcome to my dissertation disaster zone:

A disaster on the ground; a disaster in my head.

Until today, when I had a moment of realization.  

It went like this:

Oh! I can do this!

It might feel messy, and like there are a million jumbles in my head instead of words, and a million piles of papers other people have written on my floor instead of a million pages that I've written myself flowing gracefully out of my printer--but,

 as Anne Lamott writes,

'You start with where you are, and you flail around for awhile, and if you keep doing it, every day you get closer to something good.'

I've been flailing around for a long while now, but I've been keeping on,

and--I think it is safe to say--

I am getting closer! 

The girls come to town

On Friday last, my aunt and my mother made the trek from NJ to PA, in order to spend some time with yours truly, girling it up.

Upon their arrival I whipped us up some pumpkin waffles, before I whisked them away to Kiss Me Kate, being put on by the theater department on campus.  

I wish that I had a picture of the giggling that occurred as the night wore on, but I think it's safe to say: We enjoyed the show.

The next morning found us lounging in our pj's over NJ bagels, before we headed out to take in the town. 

 First, Way Fruit Farm, for delectable lunching,

donuts and cider,

and gift shop perusing.

The rest of the afternoon was spent leisurely shopping, 

giggles included,

until we returned home for an evening in.

We had us some white chicken chili (with much delight!),

before I put them to work making something 

soooooooo delicious!

Kelly and Sara were (undoubtedly) drawn in by the little song that accompanied the eating of these sausage and bean nachos that were sooooooooo delicious!

 and chatted a bit with us, helping us make a dent in the plethora of deliciousness before they went about their business.

We spent the rest of the night munching

and movie watching, glad to have some time to giggle and be, together.

The next morning came all too quickly, and, after church, their visit ended with a spontaneously fun Wegmans-sub lunch with Heather, Ash, Kate & Sarah around my dining room table.

Thanks for the visit girls; 

your giggles are one of  my favorite things,

and it was a treat to have some girl time with you!

He is here

My brother texts me this morning at 5:36,

'You ok? heard about the riots'

My aunt calls me two hours later, as I sit in a coffee shop near where those riots occurred, to ask me the same.

I look out on the street, and all is peaceful.

But in my heart?

All is riotous.  

A million words have been written, some more useful than others.

Even more have been spoken, as we go about our lives in the midst of the sadness that sits in the air, and as we try to make sense together of the hole that has been ripped open in the facade of our 'Happy Valley'.

Our conversations end with empty stares, failed attempts to close our thoughts with something meaningful,

because in the long run?

Words cannot be found.

We are a large campus, in a small town.

Everyone feels this.

And none of us, no matter how hard we try,
knows what to do with it.

I get on a bus and notice that we are all just a little nicer to each other, a little more gentle.

I walk down the street with tears in my eyes.

I ask myself why I feel so affected, when I would never have told you that 'I bleed blue and white', have never claimed to call this place anything other than where I happen to live in this season, and have never met those whose innocence will forever be lost.  I wonder at the depth of my own grief, when it is nowhere near those deeply inside this web of disappointment, destruction, damage and deceit.

In my asking, I find the place of my heart that is weeping
'This is not the way it was supposed to be', and I realize:

I am grieving all that has been stolen here, in so many ways.

In my asking, I look for the heart of God,
to find how to respond in the face of such darkness,
and I find Him in Isaiah 40:

'Comfort, comfort my people,

says your God.'

I read on, and am reminded that God knows what has been stolen from His people, as He tells Isaiah to speak tenderly to them, to remind them that His story is bigger than the latest breaking news.

I am reminded that His story is that He 

tends his hurting flock like a shepherd,
gathers the lambs in his arms, carries them close to His heart,
and that He is--at the end of the day--victorious.

In the words of the song I can't seem to stop singing this week:

He is victory, and He is here.


In this broken, grieving valley.