Though I am young I've always known and appreciated my old soul. Not old as in decrepit, but old as in joined to the long chain of time and able to access its wisdom. I can say that my Montessori education reminded my old soul of this connection and its implications. The more a child learns, the greater weight each grain of knowledge hold somehow. It all relates and new insights illuminate old truths. I believe the interconnectedness of our own in and out breaths amazed and startled me. I realized that the air I breathe once was a star, oyster, ocean, bird. Now it gives me life as it has always done.
Maybe you see the connection, maybe not. I think I do.
What I find interesting in looking back on the long and winding road are the signs pointing the way. Most often, these are not bright arrows at forks in the road. Still these turning points in life are glaringly obvious when we wear our retro-spectacles.
Now it must be time for my story - my signs - the moment my feet began choosing their path without my input. I had just graduated from college. I think I'm supposed to feel empowered, vibrant and invincible. While I managed to muster some confidence, I knew there was something more I had to do; a piece of my formal education to complete. I worked and waited. And a "plan" sprouted: Nepal. I would go, meet some college friends and see where the winds took me next.
Off I went. It was so easy to leave all I had ever known behind. I embraced the newness, the difference. Watched, listened, smiled. I learned so much, lost some of my innocence, became a sister, auntie, daughter, friend to many. I embraced so much and let myself become lost and intertwined in a place so unlike my home. Yet it was just like I had been there before. I lived at Ama Ghar home for underprivileged children, taught at a private school in Kathmandu, visited an orphanage near Chennai, Southern India, flip-flopped over the hills near Darjeeling, sweated in a hostel in Dheli and spotted yaks in the high Himalayan plains of Ladakh. All the while I absorbed the plight of the earth, the people and the culture in each region I visited. The eyes of the small children still stare into mine as their grubby hands lift toward my elbow; begging.
Eventually I had to leave, return home. It was harder than I fully realize, even now. I still suffer in small ways. I have been marked by that time away and it was hard to embrace the road that seemed so simply laid before me: find a job, stick with it, marriage, kids, retirement, death. I knew I could do more...but what?
I didn't do much and an answer fell into my lap. The foundation that ran Ama Ghar Children's Home in Nepal needed part time administrative support at their Bay Area "office." I thought about it and agreed to join the effort. At first I felt swamped with the tasks and mysteries of accomplishing the day to day operations of the nonprofit out of my bedroom. But I learned and grew. Understood my reality differently and coped with what I could not change. I surrounded myself with the work but also with people connected to the organization, and in turn Nepal. I held onto the place and people as a lifeline to those in need who I hoped to help. Montessori was with me all the time, I know now. My ability to work independently, focus, set goals and communicate with others served me well. Patience didn't hurt either.
The most glaring sign though was the day I learned that 24 children from Ama Ghar had received scholarships to Montessori House in Kathmandu. Wow, I thought. I went to Montessori too. How can I use my knowledge and connections to help this school? I turned to Facebook, where I could find Montessorians galore. I contacted Peter Davidson, the founding Head of Montessori School of Beaverton, my elementary, and he gave me some leads. I contacted one, Susan Stephenson, who shares my impulse to flee the comforts of Western life to breathe the thin air of the Himalayas. She continues to inspire me through her work in Bhutan and other Himalayan countries. Unfortunately distractions always abound. I lost momentum until I made another amazing connection.
The founder of Ama Foundation, Shrawan Nepali lives on the bottom flour of a typical Noe Valley San Francisco house. I'd always enjoyed the weekly gatherings held at his place after serving another Curry Without Worry meal to homeless friends at UN Plaza (a different story all together). Upstairs lived a young couple who sometimes frequented the parties and also expressed interest in Ama Foundation and Curry Without Worry. Not long after the children at Ama Ghar received scholarships to Montessori, I learned that a long time Montessorian was staying just above Shrawan. Victoria Barres, who has sat on the board of AMI and is a representative to UNESCO happens to be the mother of the woman who lived above Shrawan. Coincidence? Maybe...but I think not. Here I encountered another glaring signal to change my direction.
After meeting with Victoria, I continued on my way...working and working for Ama Foundation. I was inspired by her words, but still had many task to complete and I was yet to feel truly compelled to seek a new reality. I learned that my Montessori upper elementary and middle school teacher Elise Huneke-Stone was taking the primary training at MINW in Portland. I learned that my first teacher, Ginni Sackett was the head primary trainer at MINW. Slowly I made the connection.
"take the Montessori training" said a small voice said inside of me. but i wasn't quite ready.
one day i heard "TAKE THE MONTESSORI TRAINING" a bit more loudly. I looked up the program online and BOOM, it hit me. and I made my decision.
Now it seems obvious, but just a year ago I had no such clarity. Open your eyes. The answer will reveal itself.
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