Loredana Puñal

I have just read this on today's Just Add Light and Stir, entitled Moonrise:

Sometimes it's good to see cause and effect, connections, relationships.

Other times, it might be best to gaze without speaking.

I would love to learn more about how to know the difference between the two options above, and I get that they are not mutually exclusive 

I get that you can gaze without speaking *and* make connections internally but I'm interested from the viewpoint as an unschooling parent/partner gazing at something together with your children *and/or* exploring connections explicitly together *and/or* the parent sharing his/her own observations.

I would like to become more comfortable with moving between the two options with ease. I have moments of such ease and flow, sharing something relevant with my child and then pausing to see if my child is interested or engaged before I share any more of my own observations or follow my child's lead of further inquiry (or not).

I would appreciate any links or ideas to support me get more familiar and confident with this ease of knowing when to say something and when not to.

To clarify, I'm more likely to go with the latter (gaze and enjoy the moment and trust my child to ask questions or make their own connections) but I do want to get more comfortable with sharing my own observations without feeling like that would be interfering or taking away from the moment or my child's natural learning process.

As I write, I realise how much baggage I still have from my own experience of my natural learning/curiosity being interfered with and how much I prefer the opposite to that experience. But I want to find a more middle ground where I can more actively and confidently support, encourage and expand on my children's interests and curiosity as the opportunities arise, without the doubt or question of being interfering.

Thanks for any tips/links you may have to share...

Lori 
Sydney, Australia

P.s. As an aside, thank you immensely Sandra for the continued inspiration in my email inbox through Just Add Light and Stir, which I read daily, especially now that this list is so quiet.

sukaynalabboun@...

I think I have found that over time, you develop a sense for the individual child and their non verbal cues. Sometimes, it's through trial and error- you notice you should or shouldn't have jumped in. Once, Sandra said something about those missed opportunities being like the tide washing things onto the shore. They'll be back. 

Sometimes I ask questions, really wanting to know more about their thoughts and ideas. Sometimes that's enough: they don't need or want my input. Sometimes I share my own, but again, it's like a flowing conversation (as any other with a good friend might be). 
Not a "teaching" moment, at all.  With my three older kids, our conversations and interactions can be silent or vibrant, it just depends...and over time, you develop trust and knowing. Being attentive. I think it's just a deeply developed relationship that's been built to the point that you often just *know* they want to share ideas. It's hard to explain, but I hope this helps

On May 11, 2018, at 4:21 PM, Loredana Puñal loredana.punal@... [AlwaysLearning] <AlwaysLearning@yahoogroups.com> wrote:

I have just read this on today's Just Add Light and Stir, entitled Moonrise:

Sometimes it's good to see cause and effect, connections, relationships.

Other times, it might be best to gaze without speaking.

I would love to learn more about how to know the difference between the two options above, and I get that they are not mutually exclusive 

I get that you can gaze without speaking *and* make connections internally but I'm interested from the viewpoint as an unschooling parent/partner gazing at something together with your children *and/or* exploring connections explicitly together *and/or* the parent sharing his/her own observations.

I would like to become more comfortable with moving between the two options with ease. I have moments of such ease and flow, sharing something relevant with my child and then pausing to see if my child is interested or engaged before I share any more of my own observations or follow my child's lead of further inquiry (or not).

I would appreciate any links or ideas to support me get more familiar and confident with this ease of knowing when to say something and when not to.

To clarify, I'm more likely to go with the latter (gaze and enjoy the moment and trust my child to ask questions or make their own connections) but I do want to get more comfortable with sharing my own observations without feeling like that would be interfering or taking away from the moment or my child's natural learning process.

As I write, I realise how much baggage I still have from my own experience of my natural learning/curiosity being interfered with and how much I prefer the opposite to that experience. But I want to find a more middle ground where I can more actively and confidently support, encourage and expand on my children's interests and curiosity as the opportunities arise, without the doubt or question of being interfering.

Thanks for any tips/links you may have to share...

Lori 
Sydney, Australia

P.s. As an aside, thank you immensely Sandra for the continued inspiration in my email inbox through Just Add Light and Stir, which I read daily, especially now that this list is so quiet.

Sandra Dodd

Thank you for the kind words, Lori.
I’m glad sukaynalabboun responded, or I might have missed it. This group IS too quiet! :-) (And I have pneumonia and am slow to think, this week.)

I like the response about conversations and being increasingly able to read one’s children.

Here’s the post Lori’s asking about:
http://justaddlightandstir.blogspot.com/2018/05/moonrise.html

She quoted the text, but I’m happier when the image and text can stay together.

I wrote it, and it serves me right to be called to explain it. It’s not as parallel as I imagined it to be.

>
> Sometimes it's good to see cause and effect, connections, relationships.
>
> Other times, it might be best to gaze without speaking.

Sometimes it’s fun to say “Oh wow, the reflection of the moon is so cool, and that reminds me of a photo Ashlee sent of Ivan and a mirror, and…”

Connections are the best part of learning, in unschooling, in life, for fun. But if it’s too noisy too often, a quiet moonrise over a lake will get all sound-polluted. And one person’s thoughts of beauty might be overrun by someone else’s free associations.

I just had a thought that will probably end up in Just Add Light, too. :-)

Sometimes I’ve said that conversations, friendships, relationships, are like a chess game. You don’t get to plan out all the moves in advance and decide the end. You get to make ONE move. Then you wait. It’s a pretty good analogy, and has helped my kids sometimes when they were frustrated with lack of control or influence in a difficult situation. But here’s where the chess analogy is NOT good:

Moon is rising. The night is cool, You’re sitting quietly in a place that was dark and now is lighting up. You say…

"Look at the clouds."

It’s like moving a pawn out.

The other person might just say “hmmmm.” and indicate by that “I heard you, and I have nothing to add to that. I’m looking.”

If it’s chess, it should be played out to the end. :-) But no one has a right to have the whole game/conversation played out. (Unless it’s a tournament, or you’ve paid for 50 minutes of talk therapy… none of my analogies are holding still!!)

So make a move.
Wait.
Maybe the other person really wants to talk about clouds and weather and mystery and fairy tale, airliners and contrails and paranoid theories and North Korea. Maybe really truly NOT.

-=- I have moments of such ease and flow, sharing something relevant with my child and then pausing to see if my child is interested or engaged before I share any more of my own observations or follow my child's lead of further inquiry (or not).-=-

That sounds perfect.

No human in all the history of the world has, or could have guessed right every time, about what to say, how much to say, how quickly, in what tone…
Most humans can get a bit better at it, as time goes one. :-)

I still say too much or too little with/to my husband, ofter knowing him for 40 years. It happened half an hour ago. Quick, it passed, but it happens. :-)

-=-I would appreciate any links or ideas to support me get more familiar and confident with this ease of knowing when to say something and when not to.

-=-To clarify, I'm more likely to go with the latter (gaze and enjoy the moment and trust my child to ask questions or make their own connections) but I do want to get more comfortable with sharing my own observations without feeling like that would be interfering or taking away from the moment or my child's natural learning process.-=-

Conversations with a parent are natural learning fodder. Natural learning doesn’t happen in a vacuum or in isolation. Those things aren’t so natural. :-)

In my experience, unschooling parents are more likely to say too much than not enough.

The best link I think I have about natural discussions with children is “Leaning on a Truck and other parallel play”
The URL is easy to remember. /truck
http://sandradodd.com/truck

Oh. The title is

Doing Two Things at Once
or, Leaning on a Truck and other parallel play

Y’SEE how people can throw too many words at something!? Sheeeesh.

Sandra

Sandra Dodd

To make up for having missed Lori’s question for a few days, I have more links to bring. :-)

http://justaddlightandstir.blogspot.com/search?q=quiet

This goes to a search for “Quiet” at Just Add Light and Stir. Each of those will go to something, somewhere, on my site.

I wanted to list the names of the posts that came up, though. Just reading the titles might be a bit soothing:

Quiet
Quiet time for parents
Quiet enough to hear
A long, quiet time
Quite quiet
Talking less
Quiet antiques
Quiet reflection
A quiet, soft place
Calm and Quiet

(I left out a few that didn’t have “quiet” in the title, but only in the text. One is called “Thrashing and flailing.” )

I think it means not to feel guilty about not talking too much.

Sandra