The less I plan and the more I just tune into life, the more I seem to encounter and appreciate the work of synchronicity. Would I bank our lives on it? Not at this point, but I can be aware of its magic and embrace it if and how I choose and allow that for my children. For me, synchronicity is an element of life, an inlet stream that connects us to the fluid nature of natural life learning. Synchronicity works for us when I can let go more and trust the living and the learning that can evolve from the act of just being involved in life.
The moon. This writing excursion was triggered by the moon and how the moon just happened to be full when my children and I began reading “Midnight on the Moon” of the Magic Tree House Series, by Mary Pope Osborne. As Jack and Annie began this particular adventure, the moon was so full, bright and unobstructed that they didn't need their flashlights to find their way to the magic tree house. Only a night after we began to read the book, we took a moonlit stroll in honor of a beautiful, warm March night. We soon noticed that our moon was so full, bright and unobstructed that, like Jack and Annie, we didn't need a flashlight.
So, like Jack and Annie, we set out for a full moon adventure. No magic tree house had we, but we did have a nice open-to-the moon space to experience the night and the moon in its fullness. We sang and talked about the night and the moon and made plans for a full moon party the next warm full moon night. We experienced it for real. We made our own story out of a moment in time in which we chose to partake. In this moment, I acknowledged synchronicity.
After we bid the big, beautiful moon farewell, my children and I went back inside and enjoyed the rest of our evening. We eventually began our typical bedtime routine that includes reading time. We plunged into our pile of moon books (the part I plan and the kids look forward to--stories that, for us, enrich the chapter book we are reading at the time and can include silly books, fables, facts, fairytales, books about real people, nature--whatever!) and began our reading ritual which, of course this night, included more chapters in “Midnight on the Moon.”
Over the next few days or so, we finished reading our moon books and began the next book in the Magic Tree House series. I did not make a lesson out of the experience, the books or the topic. There was no need. The experience was the lesson. Experiencing oneself under a full moon was the lesson. Enjoying the books was the lesson. Synchronicity was the lesson. Allowing information and experience to naturally meld into the mind and just be there and form as it needs was the lesson. Where it will lead beyond that? Who knows, and does it have to lead anywhere beyond that? The experience planted seeds of wonder and trust in life.
We could still make a mobile of our corner of the Universe or fill in a worksheet listing the planets or facts about the moon. I could still order a few documentaries from Netflix. The list can go on as to how I can make a didactic lesson out of experience and wonder. I won’t. I prefer to let the experience take root and be allowed the space and time to germinate into what it needs to become, if it does. I prefer not to take the wonder out of life by making it didactic when it doesn’t want or need to go there. This time, my children were satiated and satisfied. Sweetly enough. The moon is real to them in ways that mere information cannot envisage.
Perhaps my children will plunder the space section at the library at our next visit or become enthralled the next time a show on the moon or space hits the airwaves on the Science Channel. I am not beyond helping synchronicity out here and there, but so often, I don’t have to! The experience could eventually lead to an in depth exploring or a full fledged learning obsession including documentaries, mobiles and whatnot. Perhaps, or not.
I do know that synchronicity has befriended us many times in the past, playing a hand in sparking interests that became deep-seated learning extravaganzas. This has happened with dinosaurs; insects, amphibians and reptiles; early humans; multi-cultural, historical fiction; animals, animals, animals; and most recently pirates! I just received an e-mail notice that a local homeschool organizer is offering a pirate ship adventure right in sync with my children’s newest discovery of and fascination with a pirate game CD. Pirates are lurking about our house this very minute! Barters are being made, maps drawn, treasures hidden and found. Hey, we just read “Pirates Past Noon” of the MTH series about a month ago! And the moon remains on hold. It will always come back around (how couldn’t it?), as most potential learning adventures do.
The next time that the moon is full, we may not recall Jack and Annie, the moon books we have read, or information we may have gathered since unless something triggers or reminds us and takes us there. I doubt we will deconstruct the moon into its physical properties and statistics; but we might decide to. Then, we might yet again just be satisfied to experience.
We will be with the full moon for the experience of our lives, not for the recall of, reinforcement of or dissemination of facts and figures. But we might go there. And if we do, I will quietly appreciate the symphony of it all when wonder and the need to know synchronize with place and time, whilst taking pleasure in living life for the moment under the full moon. There is not one thing that we need to know about the moon today that matters more.
Robin lives and learns with her two children (ages 6 and 8) and husband in Salamander Creek Habitat. She considers herself a naturalist and spiritual eclectic who enjoys celebrating the wheel of the year with her own unique blend of earth-centered world traditions.