6 Autumn story books for preschoolers to snuggle up with

As the days get chillier and crisp leaves start to fall, what could be cosier than grabbing a blanket and a pile of seasonal stories?

Image by Victoria_rt from Pixabay

This week, Spin You Circle Bright continues its seasonal series of recommendations for children’s nature stories and books. Following a nature-based spiritual path, it’s been important for me to share that with my kids. Not to force them to believe the same as me, but to help them to develop their own relationship with nature, whether or not they feel it to be a spiritual one. At this time of climate crisis, and what that means for the future that my sons face, it’s my responsibility to facilitate that learning, Of course, being outdoors immersed in various activities and landscapes offers the best classroom for nature education. However, as writer Barry Lopez says (quoted from one of my favourite blogs, Myth and Moor):

“Stories do not give instruction, they do not explain how to love a companion or how to find God. They offer, instead, patterns of sound and association, of event and image. Suspended as listeners and readers in these patterns, we might reimagine our lives”.

Barry Lopez (About This Life).

Here are some autumn stories that I love for the seasonal scenes, plants and activities they depict. If, like me, you’re not fond of books for young children that have garish pictures and lots of sensationalist language, you’ll find these books more gentle. To give loose age suitability, my kids got into these stories around age two or three, and my six year-old still enjoys most of them.

Autumn, Gerda Muller

This pictures-only book has been much-loved in our household for many years; my six year-old has only recently declared it too young for him. “Autumn” is one of a four-book series through the seasons by the author, each one following the season through its changes, and showing children engaged in seasonal scenes, work and play. Looking through this book together after a day in the woods exploring fallen autumn treasures has been a lovely resource for reinforcing that connection to the season, and what happens in it. The absence of text enables you to create your own stories around the pictures, or chat together about similar activities you have done or would like to do (spoiler alert: the “Winter” book of the series depicts a lot more snow than – to my kids’ disappointment – we tend to get where we live!)

The Story of the Wind Children, Sybille von Olfers

This book also starts with the season changing, as a boy makes friends with a wind sprite and they share fun together. A lovely story about playing with the elements that weaves in autumnal plants and other imagery. I think the kind of magic and adult-free adventure characteristic of Sybille von Olfers classics is part of what still gives them strong kid-appeal today.

Woody, Hazel and Little Pip, Elsa Beskow

A slightly longer story, which I think my children enjoyed from the closer-to-four side of age three. It follows an autumn day adventure of the Hazel children and Acorn children – and other forest folk and animals that they meet. The story includes a bit of mischievousness, a bit of parental anxiety and a bit of community skill/resource-sharing; themes that can provide a relatable springboard for various family discussions! The popularity of Elsa Beskow’s illustrations is evident in the availability of calendars and other merchandise that feature them.

The Children of the Forest, also Elsa Beskow

Whilst this book follows another forest-dwelling family through the cycle of all four of the seasons, books with a woodland setting often have quite an autumnal feel for me. This story also presents traditions such as foraging, handcrafts, babywearing, oral storytelling and community interdependence amongst subtle safety warnings and ideas for outdoor play.

The Gruffalo, Julia Donaldson

This famous tale doesn’t really need an introduction! However, I’ve included it because of its woodland setting, implication of the season, and its autumnal theme of reaping rewards for your hard work: the mouse, although arguably a bit imaginative on the truth front at times, puts in a lot of time and skill to non-aggressively save himself from physical threats. His efforts are rewarded at the end of the story and for me, this resonates with the harvest-time pagan message of looking at what you have reaped this year, particularly from what you have worked hard – and creatively – at.

Tidy, Emily Gravett

If you love to celebrate wild, unruly, messy nature then this is an ideal story to help you communicate that to younger children. Badger regrets trying to tidy and control nature – and suffers the consequences of doing so (until he puts it all right again). However, this message is delivered light-heartedly, with die-cuts through the beautiful illustrations adding extra interest and sensory elements to the book. The newest-written of all the books on this list, and perfect for raising environmentally-aware kids.

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Do you have recommendation for similar autumn story books for preschoolers? Please share in the comments!

Spin your circle bright this week:

Mind~ Possibly my favourite description of autumn spirituality, and one that I have often read out to my children on the Autumn Equinox, comes from Craft of the Wild Witch, by the talented artist and author Poppy Palin, who sadly passed away this year. I’ll quote it here as I have usually read it to my kids, but I recommend you track down a copy of Craft of the Wild Witch to treat yourself to the whole passage – and to the rest of this soulful, magical book!

Earth Mother has been spending the cooler days and shorter nights making a patchwork quilt and this she casts lovingly over a land that now feels a chill after dark. It is a marvellous quilt, made of ploughed fields, once golden and green, now fallow or full of stubble….

…Father Nature has strands of grey in his beard and silver in his nut-brown hair. Strings of glossy conkers hang around his lined neck and his pockets are full of sycamore seed treasures, acorns, and the fruits of wisdom given by the hazel tree, whose leaves were once baby-soft and downy, now turning tough and hairy. Father Nature swings his staff of ash and his feet begin to crunch through the leaves, leaves already passed away from the trees that bore them, making patterns on Mother Nature’s quilt of land. He sniffs the air and feels the wind of change, as does the squirrel and the wren, both bobbing and weaving, preparing for the inevitable return of winter”.

Poppy Palin (Craft of the Wild Witch)

Body~ I planted some winter-suitable salad plants this month and have already been munching the microgreens. Charles Dowding has lots of information on growing winter edibles – and on no-dig organic gardening generally.

Heart~ When they were younger, my children watched this exquisite, Waldorf-inspired short film, Pipkin, over and over again as a family autumn tradition. It’s only five minutes – and such a gentle, slow-paced contrast to most current kids TV.

Spirit~ This Waldorf mealtime blessing – you can follow the link in the image description for other similar ideas, too.

Sharing~ In the UK, unwanted books (as well as games, CDs and DVDs) can be traded in to Ziffit, who then either resell them, recycle them, or pass them on to charity causes. It’s a really simple process, via a friendly B-corp company, that results in you being a few pounds better off and somebody else benefitting from things that were cluttering your home.

5 nature stories to share with younger kids this summer

Image by more photos boosty.to/victoria_art_music from Pixabay

School holidays have started now in the UK , which for many parents brings the opportunity to share more time with their kids, making memories together -plus the challenge of keeping them entertained enough! A lot of my loveliest memories with my children involve reading: bedtime stories, snuggle-on-the-sofa stories, out-on-a-rug-in-the-garden stories, sitting-in-a-cafe stories, sharing a book with one of my sons whilst we wait for the other to finish at a club… it’s a simple, yet hugely enriching, pleasure.

Following a nature-based spiritual path, it’s been important for me to share that with my kids. Not to force them to believe the same as me, but to help them to develop their own relationship with nature, whether or not they feel it to be a spiritual one. At this time of climate crisis, and what that means for the future that my sons face, it’s my responsibility to facilitate that learning, Of course, being outdoors emersed in various activities and landscapes offers the best classroom for nature education. However, as writer Barry Lopez says (quoted from one of my favourite blogs, Myth and Moor):

“Stories do not give instruction, they do not explain how to love a companion or how to find God. They offer, instead, patterns of sound and association, of event and image. Suspended as listeners and readers in these patterns, we might reimagine our lives”.

Barry Lopez (About This Life).

Here are some summer stories that I love for the seasonal scenes, plants and activities they depict. If, like me, you’re not fond of books for young children that have garish pictures and lots of sensationalist language, you’ll find these books more gentle. To give a loose age suitability, my kids got into these stories around age 3.

1. Peter in Blueberry Land Elsa Beskow, Floris Books

Children are often drawn to stories where the (child) protagonist goes off on an adventure where no (human) adults are involved! In this one, Peter becomes one of the “little folk” to harvest berries and share fun in their tiny, magical world – until it’s time for everyone to say a grateful goodbye.

2) Sea Story Jill Barklem, HarperCollins

One of the Brambly Hedge series, and naturally full of the same exquisitely detailed illustrations. The story involves summery beach scenes, a new adventure, trying local foods, and the idea of making friends on a holiday. I like how the storm that happens towards the end isn’t over-dramatised or made to seem very scary, even though it imposes restrictions and changes to plan. The characters all find ways to cope and make the best of it – like with an unexpected tricky situation that happens earlier in the book.

3) The Silvertop Fairies Tim Healey, Reader’s Digest

You’ll recognise the fairytale story-arc of being granted a rags-to-riches transformation through doing the right moral thing – this time via a mountain mini-quest where faith and physical endurance is tested. Includes some subtle nature education within the story, and can prompt discussions about places in the world that have year-round snow.

4) Findus goes Camping Sven Nordqvist, Hawthorn Press

The Findus and Pettson books are longstanding favourites in our family – across all age brackets! I bought this one for my boys before a camping trip and, like all the series, it’s been read countless times now. Expect the pair’s typical mishaps, laugh-out-loud antics and quirky inventiveness, and Sven Nordqvist’s distinctive funny details in the pictures. Although the Pettson and Findus stories are not explicitly nature books, they are set in a little neighbourhood of smallholdings on the edge of the forest, and centered around outdoor and practical domestic activities. And they have a cheeky, talking cat in striped trousers.

5) The Inquisitive Harvest Mouse Noel Barr, Ladybird Books

The copy of this Ladybird book that we have is from my mum’s childhood and, although it’s likely out of print now, if you can find one second-hand I’d recommend it. Probably more suited to age 5+, it tells the story of two friends who share a picnic in a field that is home to a family of harvest mice….one of whom ends up having an unexpected adventure. Another book with a theme of doing the “right thing”, and that encourages empathy and compassion. One that I get out as we start to see the wheat being harvested in the fields around us, and as summer starts to fade.

I’d love to hear of summer books that you and/or your family enjoy in the comments below! Spin Your Circle Bright’s next post will feature journal prompts for Lammas: make sure you’re subscribed to the blog so that it comes straight to your inbox or reader. )O(

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Spin Your Circle Bright This Week:

Mind~ Read this inspiring article about how a mum taought her children about the moon and its role in our lives

Body~ Look out for windfall apples, starting to pepper my grass in the South West of the UK. Although many are still small and unsatisfying to eat raw, they will do fine bakes such as crumble or pies – especially with some of those early blackberries!

Heart~ These delightful tiny creations!

Spirit~ My children and I have a tradition around Lammas each year where I buy some corn on the cob that are still in their husks, and we make corn dolls. These then sit on our nature table until Samhain or the Winter Solstice. We then build a fire and I invite us each to hold a corn doll and name anything sad, difficult or unwanted from the year that we want the corn doll to take into the fire, as well as our hopes for the coming year. We then cast them in and visualise the negativity burning up, and the smoke bringing our wishes up and out to live on.

I learned to make these traditional harvest-time icons from instructions in one of my favourite books for family nature crafts: Festivals, Family and Food by Diana Carey and Judy Large. You can find tutorial videos, as well as printables, online as well.

Sharing~ Booktrust are determined that every child should have their own books, whatever their income or background, as well as a strong level of literacy. They give out a free board book for every baby, as well as a free paperback for each child starting primary school, and they provided care packages of books to children in need during the Covid-19 lockdowns. See here for the other amazing things they do, and how you can support them in supporting reading for every child.

How to celebrate the wheel of the year with older kids

Young kids tend to live in awe and fascination of the natural world, still discovering and understanding its rhythms and wonders. Celebrating the eight Celtic wheel of the year – or pagan – festivals, meets with their own sensory exploration of the gifts of the changing seasons, such as bright flowers or crunchy frost. However, as children grow beyond these tender first years, their increased familiarity with the world around them can make it all seem more mundane than magical. The benchmark for what counts as adventure gets higher, attachment to peers and what they like grows stronger. It can be deflating when your tween storms off because the seasonal celebrations they once delighted in are now “babyish”, “boring” and all they want to do is play video games.

How to keep special days feeling special

In our busy lives of work, school, clubs and other commitments then a day spent all together can feel like a novelty in itself. Whether you go out somewhere or just spend time at home with each other, if your family members are normally off doing their own things then maybe togetherness itself creates a sense of “special”. However, some families find that being home all day easily breeds bad moods and bickering. You can draw inspiration from the season when planning an outing: a farm where you can see young animals at a spring festival, a pick your-own farm around Lammas, a long barrow that you can actually go inside at Samhain (try English Heritage to find one). Last year on the summer solstice, we took cake and hot chocolate up on the hill behind our house to watch sunset. Walking home by torchlight added to the adventure element of this, especially as we were treated to a bat flying over our heads. We spent a winter solstice in a forest that has an 1100 year old tree; trips where you can describe something as oldest, longest, biggest, highest etc can help entice too-cool older kids who groan at the mention of “going for a walk”. Having an outdoor fire as part of your seasonal celebrations is usually popular, too.

I’ve found it best to keep explanation of the festival’s meaning brief, and framed in the context of “this is what I do and believe. It may not be what you choose or believe, and that’s ok”. We similarly talk about, and explore traditions, from other faiths.

Review and evolve your traditions

These days if I mention Jack Frost, or sing a nature song from their kindergarten days, my boys raise savvy eyebrows and spout the science behind frost, snow and falling leaves. I miss sharing those songs together, but know that just as the seasons of the year go by, the seasons of our lives do too. New seasons bring new joys to share. Some traditions might have more lasting appeal: my kids still get excited about going out to watch sunrise on the winter solstice. Special food tends to be another winner for making the day feel like a celebration. We always start solstice, equinox and cross-quarter days with a “special breakfast” of shop-bought pastries or homemade muffins. We usually bake a cake and buy or make other seasonal food that everyone loves. As kids grow older, this might be something they want to take more of a lead with.

Alternatively, the opposite may happen! With arts and crafts such as making decorations for wheel of the year festivals, I’ve needed to be open to change. Whilst some children embrace their increased capability for more complex and defined creations, others might lose their interest in creative activities. Or be more niche with what captures it. Sometimes, though, if I just start doing something creative then the kids will join in (whereas if I ask if they would like to do it, they’ll say no).

Other ways to include them

As children grow older they can be involved more actively in things like cooking, fire-lighting and route planning for outings. Doing so at a level that feels comfortable for you both honours and celebrates their growing readiness for increased trust and responsibility. It extends a welcoming arm to them as they take a few steps closer to adulthood. Older children can also contribute ideas for how your celebrations might “give back”, be it litter-picking, planting flowers liked by pollinators or recognising the harsher side of winter by buying a hot drink for someone who might be street-homeless.

Try to also find ways to include kids’ interests in what you’re doing. For example, you can take on your outing a kite, a ball, pond-dipping nets, sketchbooks, or props and materials for making temporary fairy houses or outdoor art. In warmer months, camping can add a special element and opportunity to be closer to the natural world in a way more out of our ordinary. At Samhain, the theme of connecting with our ancestors could involve visits to historical places that hold relevance to a topic that they’ve enjoyed learning at school, or was a film location for a movie they love. Or that really rocks the medieval aesthetic of Minecraft.

Lower expectations

Your seasonal celebration doesn’t have to be perfect to be special. Expect that the day will probably have tricky moments. Consider whether you need to make how you mark the festival a whole day event, particularly if your kids are old enough to want to be out doing their own thing with their friends. It could it just be half a day, or a meal.

Is there any point in still having a nature table?

Continuing to put up seasonal decorations and pictures creates that link inside your home to the seasons changing outside, bringing some of nature indoors. Even if your kids now seem quite oblivious to it all, it’s quite likely embedding memories of how the seasons are observed and honoured in their childhood home. It normalises that practice of living in connection to the seasons and to nature, complimented by things like taking walks, celebrating wheel of the year festivals, helping wildlife and gardening. Even if your child who once beamed with expectant delight pushing seeds into soil no longer wants to help, by witnessing your activities of sowing, growing on and harvesting then that rhythm remains part of their life.

My own nature table evolved from having had a simple pagan home altar for meditation and ritual for several years. When my children were born. I wanted to share in my spirituality with them, so adapted this into a nature table. When they were little enough for every leaf, pine cone and conker to be amazing, the space sprawled with their collected treasures. Now older, they still pick up and add particularly unusual finds from our garden or walks, but are more discerning. Whilst I might miss that toddler sense of constant wonder, I admit to also enjoying this less cluttered phase! I imagine that this season of our family life may also turn, eventually, and the space might become more like it did pre-parenthood.

Make time for one-to-one time

If you have more than one child, it can be hard to get regular time alone with each. Yet you may find that, when there’s no sibling dynamic to play to, your youngest wants to join in with some seasonal craft or snuggle up for a certain story or song. (And the big sib may even do similar when they’re not feeling they have to show they’re cool top-dog!). One-to-one time can give each kid space to be more themselves and their age.

Make time for you

Your child might show interest in sharing the spiritual elements you want in wheel of the year festivals with you, or may communicate that it’s not their path. Rude or snide responses can be disheartening, though. Whilst there may be a way to make your style of celebration more accessible to them, it may work better to save those activities until you can have some time alone, or with other adults sharing your spirituality.

My next post will be about making celebrations special when you’re on a low budget. Make sure you’re subscribed so you don’t miss it! Mo )O(

Spinning my circle bright

Mind – I really like Glennie Kindred’s Sacred Earth Celebrations for ideas for celebrating each of the wheel of the year festivals, some more for solitary adults, some more for groups and some kid-friendly. The book includes several of her beautiful drawings throughout.

Body – My children have moved on from some of the activities and rhymes in Festivals, Families and Food by Judy Large and Diana Carey, but it still remains a favourite and has lots of seasonal recipes that I dig it out for. (I also love the other books in the series, as may older children who like craft activities). Fiona Danks and Jo Schofield’s books have great ideas for outdoor activities for kids of all ages.

Heart – In my early parenting years, Amanda Blake Soule’s blog gave me lots of inspiration from her tales of a life that looked close to nature, homesteading and home-educating five children. Although she now seems to moved her focus from blogging to Instagram, you can still access the site and her years of posts here.

Spirit – When I have time(!), something that I like to do in the run-up to a wheel of year festival is to have a look through one or more of my pagan books, or at my Pinterest board for that festival, to spend some time connecting with my spiritual relationship with that point in the year. It can be easy to focus so much on making it a “family day”, but make time, when you can, for your own reflections, inspirations, goals, meditations, inner work and/or rituals; for what the festival means to you.

Sharing – This for ideas for your family for giving back to nature.

First image by Bob Dmyt from Pixabay. Second Image by Anna Prosekova from Pixabay. Third image by Елизавета Кардасева from Pixabay.

Word magic – journalling for personal growth

Words work potent spells on me. Maybe you too have felt under some kind of enchantment that wouldn’t let you put a novel down, or have experienced the hairs on end poignancy of a song lyric that described your mind’s exact tangle. And perhaps even combed it out a bit.

Maybe you’re a word witch/wizard yourself, with a career in creative writing, communications, or as a therapist. Maybe you’d like that, but feel those dreams are out of your reach.

Maybe you diligently keep a Book of Shadows, or perhaps daily journalling works a deep, cathartic magic for your self-growth. It does for me. More so now since I learned how to get the most from this powerful tool.

Journalling when you hit a hard time 

I used journalling as a bit of an emotional First Aid remedy. I’d hit some kind of tricky time, reach for a pen and the notebook that seemed to be taking me years to fill….and feel real relief from getting everything out and tangible on paper. It gave me a safe, private space to rant and ramble uncensored whilst I navigated through that particular storm.

(NB If you are experiencing depression and/or feel yourself  at a low point, please reach out for support too. Talk to your loved ones, doctor, counsellor or a service such as the Samaritans. Don’t face a crisis alone).  

Journalling for deeper inner work

During the covid lockdown, I did some free online courses through Writers’ HQ, and one through Do What You Love For Life. These nudged my journaling practice into, well, a regular practice. Through keeping that steady through other storms that have since come and eased, journaling has been a channel for deeper therapy. First Aid is, after all, the first remedial measure; it’s often not sufficient as complete healing. Regular journaling has allowed me to explore deeper, finding hidden wounds and embedded inner narratives. It gives opportunity to open up to myself, to get far enough under the surface of habits and raw emotion to bring a shift towards personal growth.

Try it, if  you haven’t already.

Again, journaling can be a powerful tool. Even if your mental health feels strong right now, it’s good to prepare for who or what can support you if it brings up heavy stuff. And to ask yourself: does this feel too heavy to think about now? It’s ok to take a break.

How to get started

Some people swear by using timers or journalling prompts, or by following  a programme like Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way and securing their journaling practice in the rhythm of the day. Some record data such as mental health, sleep, food cravings, energy level or for menstrual cycle charting. I’m not able to commit to that in this chapter of my life, but aim for alternate days (and achieve a little less). I sometimes write half a page, sometimes four. Sometimes it’s cathartic, sometimes more doodling with creative prose. But nature writing or therapy, record of memories or stream of consciousness, my journal is part of my spiritual self-development toolkit. An art medium, even if it’s art never for public display. A map for journeys I’ve already been on, sometimes lost when I did so.

But that helps me find my way forwards.

Spinning my circle bright

Mind – Arvon also run online creative writing courses, some free.

Body – I always have to remind myself, when writing, to take care of my posture. It’s easy to get so into your head that you forget your body! My shoulders are always grateful for the yoga asana cow-faced pose (Gomukhasana). I try to do hip circles, or other shoulder stretches, regularly through the day too. If you’re working on a computer, take care of your eyes by ensuring that the screen is the correct brightness: hold a white sheet of paper up beside it to check that their brightness is roughly the same. I’m lucky to have my desk by a window with an awesome view, so that I can look out regularly for a bit of long-distance vision alongside short-distance.

Heart – This quote about the healing power within the creative process.

Spirit – Both sun and moon are now in growing phases of their cycles, although the new moon won’t be visible in the sky for a couple of nights. Thinking about what projects and goals your would like to see growth in is a simple way to connect to the current solar and lunar seasons – and something that you can record in a journal to reflect back on later.

Sharing – The Green Parent magazine has been a beautiful source of parenting inspiration and support for me since I was given some copies on the day my first child was born. Recently, I was super-honoured to have my article on extended breastfeeding placed among their Highly Commended entries for their 2021 writing competition. Check out the amazing other entries here.

In more “my other writing news”, I am nearing completion of an accredited copywriting course through the College of Media and Publishing. I’m particularly interested in working with businesses and organisations in the health, spirituality and alternative education fields, as well as with small-scale artists and artisans. Connect with me via LinkedIn or my contact form if your business website, print marketing or social media could do with an edit, re-vamp or whole new write.

See you soon with the next post – click the follow link if you’re not already subscribed.

Mo )O(

Top image by David Schwarzenberg from Pixabay, bottom two images my own.

A new season

One morning last week brought the first hint of frost to my part of Bristol. Just a teasingly light touch of it on some of the roofs of the streets that surround mine. Winter’s first little stroke, at the end of a grey and chillier week, where more leaves seem to be gracing the ground than the trees now. Autumn’s crispness is turning to a wintery sogginess – in those leaves and in the air. The soil is heavily soggy, clinging to our boots. Damp clings to my coat and condensation to my windows in the mornings. We adjust our routine to factor in putting on more clothes when leaving the house, to get laundry off the line earlier, to draw the curtains before dinner and to spending less time in the garden. We eat more soup. I write in my journal more.

I also feel a shift in my own season, entering the third trimester of my pregnancy round about now. The changes to my body tell me that it’s time to sit a little differently, to sleep and eat a little differently, to adjust how I move and how I lift. To make time to be pregnant – for yoga, for breath work, for just sitting talking to the baby and gently poking my bump whilst it pokes me back. To slow my pace. It’s easy to try to fight this, expecting the same of ourselves whatever the “season” our lives our in (for example, when we’re ill, when we’re menstruating, when we’ve just had a baby, when we’re menopausal). Those around us – and wider society – may perpetuate this disconnection and the lack of opportunity to honour these fluctuations and these rhythms. There’s pressure to just put on a brave face, dose up with painkillers and carry on with all your normal jobs and tasks.

I’m trying to listen to what these new seasons are calling me to do.

The full moon in my different phases

As a child, I don’t remember having much of a relationship with the moon, except that it often had a magical role in stories I enjoyed. In the maiden phase of my life, during my early steps along my spiritual path, the moon and her cycles became greatly important how I lived my day-to-day life and gained understanding of myself.

The full moon phase was always busy; I would hope to not be working a late shift! I’d have a sacred bath before dressing in special clothes, silver jewellery and make up. I’d decorate my altar, bake/buy cake. eat a special meal and go for an evening walk. I’d work a spell, do a Tarot spread and carefully put my crystals and other magical items out to charge in the powerful moonlight.

With my rocky arrival into motherhood, my focus shifted. I was, like many new parents, exhausted, clueless and overwhelmed. My baby was mostly either feeding or crying. My instincts and intuition were lost among emotion, nappies and inability to keep on-top of housework. I didn’t really give much thought to my spirituality for a while. It’s not uncommon for mothers to immerse themselves in the needs of their babies and forget who they themselves are. My understanding is that some don’t recover this until around when the kids leave home.

I guess now, in this new phase of my life, I have a new relationship with the full moon; the mother moon. I identify with this energy. I feel her within myself. The nurturing, creative, intuitive, maternal aspects. The high-emotion, heavy, tired aspect. The challenges and magic of this ongoing process of birthing a new person into the big wide world. The abundance of joy, learning, fun, love, pain and chaos.

My menu of full-moon night activities is somewhat leaner. I rarely devote the whole night to it, and the focus tends to be on being rather than on doing. I watch the moon from our garden, drawn to her stillness – her calmness – rather than her power. I go inside and meditate, or journal, or draw a single Tarot card.

I wonder how my full moon nights will change as I move out of early motherhood, through mothering all the childhood ages ahead, and eventually towards my cronehood and beyond. For now I savour my simple menu.

)o(

(framed picture is of a work by Wendy Andrew: www.paintingdreams.co.uk)

Morning

Some mornings, I’m gifted solitude.

Health-conscious people tell me I should start my day with yoga and a large glass of hot water with lemon. I’ve tried to but I always wake hungry. I think I always have. Perhaps I’m just not so yogic-ly pure and self-controlled!

However, when I reach our kitchen, I go straight to the back door. The delicate sunlight seems vulnerable. Breeze quivers leaves without sound. The garden nods its “good morning” with silent, gentle reverence. It’s like watching a movie in mute. It’s enchanting. I open the door to switch the silent-movie alive and I take a few appreciative breaths. Communion. I do a few little stretches while the kettle boils; my compromise for the lack of something more disciplined.

I nearly always wake early… usually accompanied by my son and his incessant chatter. I well know that, in years to come, when I’m no longer worried about him waking the neighbours, I’ll treasure my memories of greeting the day with him. I’ll miss it. So – although in this year it’s the alone-time I treasure – I pay attention to his voice, to the funny things he talks about, to his posture, the way he flicks his hair and the deliberation with which he spoons his muesli into his beautiful little mouth (insisting on using a big spoon!). I lock these things preciously in my heart for when this wild, crazy season of early parenthood has tumbled by and I can get the memories out again to marvel at with a different, more savouring appreciation. For when I’ll regret not savouring it all more at the time.

Every early morning, I feel the hope, the promise and the renewal offered by the new day in the way that I do at new moon or new year. Or on Mondays. Ayurveda assigns this time to Vata dosha and it certainly feels light, creative and swift-moving to me. I get blown along, sometimes with an idea awakening too. Sometimes just with the memory-making chatter.

Celebrating the return of my moontime

Recently, my menstrual cycle finally returned following the birth of my son. I’m still breastfeeding, which delays a mama’s cycle coming back, but mine was kinda unusually delayed; Dylan was past his third birthday! When my first period in almost four years did arrive, it was something that I wanted to consciously welcome, honour and connect with.

I had at times worried about my lack of periods, although was reassured when my GP ran tests that all came back normal. On the advice of a couple of wise-woman friends, I started journalling as a way to deepen my relationship with my body, my moods and my intuition. I sought to deepen my connection with the moon’s cycle and the cyclic dance of my own hormones, trying to spend time outside on full and dark moon nights feeling the beautiful presence of those energies around me and deep within me. I also made myself a sacred space a little like my own Red Tent. The Red Tent movement has developed over recent years, following a book of the same name, as global and local communities of women honouring their own and each others’ divine femininity and the powers that that brings. Red Tent temples are places for support, creativity and activism. (You can discover much, much more here). I desired a space in my home where I could sit and meditate, dream, journal, read a book or my Tarot cards… or simply drink hot chocolate mindfully and peacefully! In particular, I wanted a space designed for connecting with my sacred femininity and that of the Earth, my ancestry, the cosmos and women everywhere. I gathered up mostly-red items that had special connotation, purpose and beauty to me. I created a little canopy from scarves. One of them I used to wear around my hips a lot – often going out to what were very much activities of the “maiden phase” of my life! I had a lot of fun then doing things that I admittedly wouldn’t do now. Things that were right for me at that time ; I find it important to acknowledge that “maiden” as part of who I am, part of my past, present and future self. Other items represent the “Mother” phase of my life; my current phase. There’s a photo of me nursing Dylan when he was a few days old – as well as another of us – and there’s the badge above that a friend gave me. (Similar products with pro-breastfeeding slogans can be bought at Lactivist.co.uk). My little red corner holds souvenirs from other important times in my life; from my wedding and from our travelling adventure. Flopsy the rabbit  was given to me the day after I was born!

I made the bunting (photo at top of post) and also this red drawstring bag that stores my moon cup and washable moon cloths. I like to use these re-usable menstrual products for environmental, financial and health reasons – most disposable pads and tampons are not biodegradable, are expensive over time and are full of chemicals that I just don’t want next to a delicate area of my body! My inspiring and wise friend Rachael makes these pads which she sells along with other lovely moontime products on her website. Other things are from special women in my life. The cross above – although a symbol of a spirituality different to my own – belonged to my late paternal grandmother who I felt much closer to after I became a mother myself. The decoration it is attached to was made  for one of Miranda Gray’s incredible womb blessings with wool that I spun. There’s something from my mum, from her mother and from one of my great-grandmothers as well as from my lovely oldest friend. One scarf was a leaving gift from a team that I was privileged to work in; this small team was, by coincidence, all-female and each of these wise women taught me so very much. I often wear it during meditations or womb blessings. The drum (and large elephant wall-hanging) are my husband’s; although this space is primarily for my honouring and practising feminine aspects of my spirituality, the divine male energy of the cosmos has a place here too. My husband is very much my partner in day-to-day life and on a soul level – and had a somewhat significant part in my becoming a mother! The journal was a gift from his parents.

The red sari (awesome charity shop find!) stretches across the bedroom and hangs over my desk: my physical space for sewing, writing and knitting creativity. I like that this area is feels connected to the “red tent” corner – during one moontime I actually didn’t feel like spending much time in that space I’d made but just wanted to do lots of sewing!

The benefits of creating and using this space are already tangible and precious to me. A space where my womb energy can stir and speak. Space for me to hear it. Space for me to, sometimes,  simply sit with myself. That’s particularly important as an at-home mama where so much of my focus is on my son and on the running of the home. Yet although this is a rich environment for this personal practice, it does lack the benefits of a physical community; benefits that Red Tent gatherings or other womens’ circles can offer. Fortunately, many towns and cities do have these. Read here about how Rachael at Moontimes is creating a gorgeous community Red Tent in Pembrokeshire – and how you can support it . I’d also recommend Lucy Pearce‘s lovely, easy-to-read book Moontime for inspiration on creating your own personal retreat space – or a community one – and for wisdom on connecting with your cycle positively and meaningfully. In both joining a community Red Tent/womens’ circle, or creating a personal space like I have, I feel there’s real power in making womanhood and fertility special. (fertility in the baby-making sense and also fertility in terms of our broader creative energy). In our society these things often aren’t seen as special. We’re taught that menstruation is a nuisance and a curse. Our “sanitary products” give the impression that it’s unclean and medical. A lot of society’s approach to fertility, contraception, pregnancy, childbirth and breastfeeding all carries an underlying message that womens’ bodies can’t possibly be trusted to do what they’ve been doing for centuries without pharmaceuticals and medical interventions. I appreciate that some women really do have horrific PMS and a painful bleeding time – I used to. Thankfully some dietary and lifestyle adjustments such as those that can be found on Marylin Glenville‘s website helped me a lot.

In making a special space – and special time – to listen to and honour my body, I feel the empowering “specialness” of my womanhood.  I’m getting to know this “specialness” through the mediations, reflection and self-care that I enjoy in my little red corner. I’m learning to trust it. I’m gradually learning it’s song and letting it sing to me of how my sacred femininity not only has its place inside me, but inside the universe. ♥

Maiden, Mother and Crone painting by Wendy Andrew.

Special days and simple rites of passage: starting kindergarten

Earlier this month, my son started at a Steiner kindergarten; three mornings each week. Dylan hadn’t experienced nursery or daycare before  – he and I have really spent very little time apart since he was conceived. So it was as much my First Day at Kindergarten and I wanted to make this a special day. A special day for him  and for us as a family to acknowledge the milestone it is in our family life. I also didn’t want to make it too huge a thing, or heap a load of pressure, expectation and too much spotlight onto Dylan.

A few weeks before he started, we began to talk often about what going to Kindergarten would be like. I introduced a new game to him: the Going To Kindergarten Game, where we essentially role-played a kindergarten morning. We’d visited Kindy by this point and knew the routine and typical activities of a usual morning there. I included in the game along with repeated reassurance on how I’d pick him up at lunchtime. Dylan was given a lunch bag over Yuletide and I’d made him a drawstring bag to carry his things in. (below).

I also asked members of our close family for a brief message wishing him well that I could put together into a little booklet for him (pictured top – the gorgeous painting of the little girl is by Marjan Van Zeyl). We read him the messages over breakfast on his first day, hoping to give him the feeling that the people closest to him were each “present” in this way, and thinking of him. Dylan’s uncle had supplied a TS Elliot quote, Rob and I a poem (below) and his grandparents had contributed well-wishing messages – Grandpa had drawn lovely pictures on his and Granny’s, which brought a smile to Dylan’s face immediately!

Luckily my husband and I were both able to take and collect him together on his first day. The kindergarten is a little way from where we live so I stayed around the area “in case they needed to phone at all”.  In reality, from the moment that he ran off with barely a wave goodbye, we knew he’d be fine and that this move was for me more than him! I had a walk (and a bit of a weep. And a phonecall to my own mum; I’m always grateful to connect with my own mother in these mothering milestones of my own!) I spent the rest of the morning in a cafe with a huge hot drink and slice of cake to fuel writing a poem and some journalling. It felt so useful to have this time for self-reflection, nurture and creative expression.

When we collected Dylan, his face was covered in smiles and mud from outdoor play. He had lots that he was eager to tell us – and of course we were eager and excited to listen! I’d brought one of his favourite things for him to eat for lunch and had some cookies waiting at home for later. That makes me sound like a much, much more movie-perfect mum than I even come close to; I emphasise that this was just for his first day! And whilst every morning at kindergarten certainly isn’t followed by cookies, it is followed by some time together during the afternoon to reconnect over a story, or playdough, or paints, or in the garden. We’re still settling into our new rhythm, still getting used to all it asks from us, still finding creative ways to address the challenges it brings. It’s an adjustment. One season in my life changes to another and it feels good to honour it. ♥