I've been dreaming of the misty seas.
Becoming a Waldorf teacher brings so much magic to life, in all the ways that I hope it will come to life for the students in my future classes. How can you possibly study the rich fairy tales, the qualities and attributes of letters and their stories, the magical kingdoms of numbers, the moral lessons of the fables and the archetypes of the saints, without recognizing and living into the magic of it all? I look deep into the forest on the mistiest of days and my imagination takes flight. Under the tenderest of chanterelle caps sits a fairy waiting out the rain. The gnomes live deep underneath that Douglas fir...can you hear them mining and singing? Hack, hack, the rocks we crack. Quake, quake, the earth we shake.
And to think this is only the beginning with so much to come. Astronomy. Ancient Egypt, Greece, India, and Rome. The Hebrew stories. The Norse myths. Botany and geology. Geometry and physics. The precious classics of education.
So it seems perfectly natural that in living by the sea, the spell of the salt air would take hold. Selkies, mermaids, and kelpies live here. At night, Coco is sure she can hear the mermaids singing while they sit on the rocks and comb their hair. We tell stories of the seals that live on the rocky island off the shore of our beach that is surely our own Roan Inish. These seaside tales of merwomen who shed their seal skins have evolved into kindred legends for those with the sea in their souls.
It's really quite something to look at the oridinary and the everyday to see the hidden magic beneath, to celebrate the imagination in all of its fairy rings and wizardry. Developing the ability to look at something and see more, well, that's an education in itself, and a skill this next young generation will need for the future. And so here, in this house, we celebrate and cultivate this gift.