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Dwelling Place


 The sensorial area of the Montessori curriculum has always been fascinating to me. They tend to be the more colorful materials in a Montessori classroom, standing out against the plainness of unadorned walls and shelves, making silent proclamations to the children to investigate and peruse. The red rods beckon them. The pink tower stands erect as a quiet monument towards budding curiosity. The constructive triangles seek one to dream new dreams. Children have this natural curiosity and desire to have engagements with the world around them through their senses. These days we adults don't have time for such exploration. But what is mindfulness if not a reconnection to our inherent ability to engage with the world around us in this present moment through the God given receptors we've been given, namely our senses?

I'm still learning to give children (and myself) space for exploration. To do so is to lead one's heart to praise of some sort. There's just so much beauty around us. Meanwhile, we are often so inundated with screens that give us information (often times false) about a word of terror, depravity, and near annihilation at every turn. To buy more because what you have will not be enough. To buy quickly, because there isn't enough to go around. I do not deny such things exactly (except that last part). Rather I want to temper such terror with another reality of beauty. Both realities exist. Both are true. Yet time and again, I notice the child gravitating towards the beauty, even in their messiness. And that, among other things, gives me hope. So that's where I choose to dwell.

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