Spirit Play: Labyrinths and Mandalas

We're well into our religious education (RE) year at our Unitarian Universalist church, where we're teaching the Spirit Play curriculum.  It's a kind of Montessori, learner-centered approach to RE the privileges storytelling and hands-on activities.  It's just our first year using Spirit Play and we only watched some videos and studied the manual; so let's call it Spirit-Play-light, since we don't have lots of felt manipulatives, pure retelling of the stories, and "I wonder" questions.  Still, we let the kids work their way through our theme using a few carefully designed and selected activities (though probably a little too much information and explaining; it's an extra challenge because our age range is 5 to 13.)

A few weeks ago, following another teacher's lesson on Sacred Spaces, I led a class on labyrinths.  I read a story entitled Ladybug's Labyrinth, which dealt with a little lost bug who follows a labyrinth and is able to calm down and not feel so lost, and we talked a little about personal sacred spaces (vs. communal ones) and meditation.  Then the kiddos had their choice of work:  making tape labyrinths on the floor, learning to draw a labyrinth, and using two of the labyrinths I brought (one finger, one ball maze.)  The eldest student worked on the two handheld labyrinths while my kids and the younger ones all worked on the large tape labyrinth on the floor (using the how-to-draw directions.)  Then they took turns racing around it like a race track.  We adults went through, too, much more slowly, but the little ones were more intent on the dizzy buzz they got running through it.  And that's okay.  (They did each try it the slow way, a least partly.) They all finished the class by drawing their own labyrinth on a white paper plate, thereby making their own finger labyrinth.  I wish the story had been stronger, but the kids had a good time, even if the whole idea of internal, personal, meditative space (or even labyrinths as metaphor for life's journey) got a little lost.  But experiencing the shape itself was very compelling for all of them.

Bud's

Mine

Today, I built upon the meditative practice of labyrinths by leading a class on mandalas.  We talked about mandalas as a (radially-symetrical) circle made by many religious traditions to aid in prayer, particularly Tibetan monks who make intricate ones out of sand, only to blow them away instead of keep them.  Impermanence.  It's also the time of death and dying--waning light, fall leaves, and Samhain, Day of the Dead, All Souls/Saints, and, of course, Halloween--when so many people feel more connection to those who have gone before us.  And we read Grandad's Prayers of the Earth, which tells of one grandfather explaining prayer to his grandson, who only really understands once his grandfather has died.  Prayer in this book as divined, briefly, as anything that connects one to the larger beauty of life, be it stillness, movement, laughter, song, or words spoken by grandparents . . . .

Sis's

And so we walked through our church's "backyard," stopping for a moment of silence by the stones of the Memorial Garden, where congregants' ashes are sprinkled.  We also picked up materials to make our own nature mandalas.  The kids worked separately and so diligently . . . and with the wind, we all experienced the impermanence of our art form.  And perhaps the older ones understood the metaphor.  At least the mandalas lasted long enough to show parents and take photos (because you know us humans, always trying to stop the impermanence.)

We called these gorgeous things "mandala leaves" for the layers of color.  No idea what tree they're from.

I'm not sure what I'll do at my next class in two weeks.  Maybe something on gratitude.

Pondering Halloween

The rain held off so that it was a dark but not stormy night.  In fact, it was quite temperate for a New England Halloween and the kids didn't even need jackets or long sleeves as they wandered out into the night.  They trick or treated alone this year, in that they didn't join any neighbor groups but went door to door together as we stood at the curb.  They did all the neighborhood houses--including the three near us that have been dark and candyless for the decade we've lived in Connecticut but are now inhabited by young families and Halloween participants--after first driving to a special chosen few.  Interestingly, few people tonight, or last night at Mama's office Halloween party for kids, recognized Sis's Quidditch robes or Bud's Camp Half-Blood shirt as belonging to Harry Potter and Percy Jackson respectively.  The few who did know, however, were appropriately excited.  Sis and Bud in turn were excited to see a colleague of Mama's in a T.A.R.D.I.S. shirt and Sis proudly told him that she was going to be the Doctor next year, the Tenth Doctor.  He approved.

Of course, their favorite part, both last night and tonight, isn't so much the gathering of candy, which is merely a means to an end, namely the eating of candy.  First, they sort their haul by type, then they engage in the all-important swap whereby one gives all of his Hershey bars in exchange for all of her Skittles and the other gives up all of  her mini-Crunch bars for all of his Whoppers.  It is a family ritual.  So is giving all of the nutty candies--Snickers, Almond Joys, peanut M&Ms, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups--to Mama and me.  We let them eat til they'd had their fill tonight and will be generous with the eating of candy for the next few days, until Mama does a candy buy-back program this weekend, another ritual.

I asked the kids about family rituals and traditions, as I was cutting out rounds of Soul Cakes this evening.  The spiced cookies were pretty good, actually, thicker and more tender than shortbread with a lot more spice (plus we used balsamic vinegar instead of white wine vinegar, which we didn't have.)  Anyway, I realized that oftentimes I don't repeat activities like Soul Cakes.  This year it's Soul Cakes (we played the song all afternoon); a few years ago it was roasted pumpkin seeds.  Next year, who knows?  Sis said she liked that we did new things each year as long as we kept some of the same traditions, like the great candy swap and drawing their costume for the year on their trick or treat bags and hanging up "Ghostie" in our tree.  For Thanksgiving, she said, we had to have turkey and gravy but she didn't feel like we had to do the same gratitude activity every year.  Christmas, among many other things, means the sock Advent calendar.  I'm glad we're all on the same page about holidays, with something old and something new.

Today during my (awful) school tour (I wasn't awful; the kids were crazed, as I expected them to be--my own Sis was, in her own words, "hysterically happy" about Halloween and Bud was dancing everywhere), I realized (again) how even a relatively widely celebrated holiday like Halloween can be controversial.  We were talking about fall and its holidays when a girl raised her hand and said, "Halloween is the Devil's birthday.  Christmas is God's birthday."  Gulp.  Of course, both personally and intellectually, I believe this is completely unfounded (see our research on Samhain here) and untrue.  But school tours are no place for theological discussions, especially with eight-year-olds, so I merely said that I understood that some people believe that but that the people who lived in the house in the colonial times wouldn't have believed that and nor would they have celebrated either one.  (No wonder our kids can't wear Halloween costumes to school!)  And then, true to form, I asked Sis and Bud what they thought of that later.  Sis said outright that she didn't believe in the Devil.  So I asked her how she would talk to a friend who said such things (and there are a few who would, as they are not allowed to celebrate Halloween because it's not in the Bible.)  "I have a different religion," she decided.  I told her that sometimes it was hard to disagree with friends, but she raised her hand for a high-five and said, "I'm a strong girl."  We also talked about how you can agree to disagree, how different people can believe different things.  And that belief and truth are not always the same thing, not by a long shot, regardless of how firmly someone (including us) believes something to be true.

On a lighter note, another girl on the tour asked if I would wear my colonial costume that night to trick or treat.  No, I said, these were my work clothes.  And she looked at me incredulously and asked, "This is your job?"  She was so shocked, so earnest, even though I'd already answered the question of how I'd learned all this stuff (years and years in school and then more studying afterwards!)  I do feel lucky to dress up in costumes for my day "job."  And in truth, my colonial outfit does make a great costume, but I leave the trick or treating to the kids.

Tomorrow is All Saints' Day and then All Souls' Day for some, Samhain for others.  And we'll be eating Soul Cakes and candy, singing a song used for both All Souls' and Christmas, planning our rituals and traditions (to express our beliefs, to overburden this wrap-up!) as we get ready for the trio of big winter holidays.  I love this time of year.

Happy Halloween!