Our Montessori Life 2020: Our Essential 9
“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. ” Antoine de Saint-Exupery
As 2020 wraps up I was gathering our “9 Best”. The yearly Instagram tradition of posting the 9 most successful posts of the year. Except that this year didn’t have a lot of bests. Or at least not at first glance or from a social media filter view.
It had a lot of heartache beginning with a tragedy that rocked both our small town and our own little family deeply in February. And it seems that it’s chosen to end as it begun with another tragedy that hit our extended chosen family this past week, on Solstice.
And so, that’s what could be the focus. Bookend deaths to round out an awful year. Or, we could look for those little, impossible to see things, the things not seen by the eye.
When schools didn’t reopen after Spring Break, Quentin and I found ourselves at home together. As the days warmed we spent the time “Following the Child” and they were some of the best moments we’ve ever spent together. We gathered for the daily Zoom check in and then had the rest of the time to become completely submersed in interests.
We finally got a chance to renovate his Montessori home learning space. We used the excuse of me being laid off not as a massive source of anxiety but instead as the perfect jumping off point. Finally his space resembled and fit all the Second Plane of Development needs he had. He choose the yellow walls (Frozen Banana) and helped pick out all the new furniture.
Anthony turned 20 and moved out. Pictured is their last day as brothers under one roof. We spent it reading in our own backyard with endless cups of tea. Although it was a big adjustment for everyone, it opened up a new chapter in our lives, one that has little brother sleepover movie nights.
And, we spent some of our absolute best moments everyday, in our garden.
With nowhere to go and nothing to do, we woke up each morning, had breakfast, and went outside. We let the sun warm our bodies, and our hands sink into the cool earth. We often didn’t say much as we picked and chopped each new fruit or vegetable coming in that day. We observed how even a few days makes a big difference for small seeds and ripening strawberries.
And, when “flattening the COVID cure” was working, living on a small island definitely has its advantages, which we fully took. I took Quentin on his first ever long distance bike ride to a favourite and deserted freshwater swimming hole. Our bike ride was my highlight of the entire year. We went along at his pace that included a bike portage when the trail we were riding on was blocked unexpectedly.
It’s amazing what we as adults don’t give kids enough credit for. Quentin carried his new bike down a dry river bed navigating boulders and slippery logs to reach the lower trail and our destination. It was a lot of work, or it must have been. Looking back all we can remember is laughing at some ridiculous jokes and talking about what we would do when we reached the pool. He used his camera to take some amazing shots of the minnows swimming.
Then, all of a sudden it was September, and school came calling for both of us. We were ready (yes I purposely edit out his school crest on his sweater). Back to his Lower Elementary classroom he loves so much and back to his Mastery Year in that classroom. It was important to him and so we went.
And then Solstice arrived and we’re back to the beginning of this story. We hugged each other a little tighter and sat on the edge of Quentin’s bed watching him sleep a little longer. Beyond grateful for what we have, what could so easily be taken away in an instant.
This year has been a good one. Not because of the work contracts and collaborations. We’ve been lucky with those this year and we have a big surprise to share in the new year, but that’s not it. It’s not because of all the likes and follows, but we were very grateful for those too. Its something our Essential 9 may fail to capture. The good simply because we have each other. It’s been good because each morning, bedroom doors open, and footsteps and voices are heard, and we know that that very easily, could not be the case.