winter tranquillity

the upside and downside of waldorf was that not much notice was taken of maladjusted children (except by merciless peers). The waldorf teachers just didn’t care. Which meant you were left to your own devices. Nobody bothered about protecting you or making sure you were OK. On the other hand, there’s something quite good in all this too: the absence of caring about the individual child leaves the child unharmed from attention. I mean, sometimes attention is the last thing desired by the child who prefers solitude. There are things that can’t be fixed, and trying to fix everything may just result in more harm than good being done. Sending a child to a shrink or to another professional is potentially more detrimental than leaving it be, because the child may feel even more singled out as the abnormal one — if the child fails this adult interruption as well. That said, it isn’t right to ignore the child either. I would rather see that when a child fares badly in waldorf, the family would be advised to seek another kind of education. As I’ve said before, waldorf just isn’t for everybody, if it is indeed for anybody at all (I doubt it is). There were many reasons why waldorf was so wrong for me. And they did try to give me curative eurythmy. It wouldn’t have cured anything.

Sleeping medication for nighttime or methylphenidate for daytime just weren’t an option in an environment where aspirin was thought of as evil. Neither were antidepressants. If you were ill, you were supposed to be ill — illness was good. Cheating illness, bad. And, let’s face it, ritalin would have done nothing to help me learn, when we weren’t taught anything worthwhile anyway.  Being fully,  mentally present and awake during eurythmy, pentatonic flute-playing or wet-on-wet painting may very well have made it all even more unbearable. Maybe I needed to tune out, rather than tune in. On the other hand, had I been less inattentive and bewildered, I might have had an easier time simply because I would have been less socially awkward. I don’t know if alienation was already in my personality or if I was made to become alienated. It’s plausible alienation was inevitable, intrinsic to my being. I hated being forced to endure school — I hated it; spent days and most nights hating it. Wanting it all to go away. Wanting to sleep for eternity while in reality I was hardly able to fall asleep at all. Falling asleep at 5 am or a few hours before my awful life commenced again.

Actually the problem — whether it was a cause of all other issues or a consequence of an underlying, more extensive problem — was the sleeping. Insomnia. Insomnia.

In the forest, december 16th. Silence. Snow softening all sounds. As a child I always felt I could have fallen asleep in the snow, in the silence and the comfort of the cotton-like texture. Sun, always setting early and rapidly in winters, positioned low even during daytime, leaving the whiteness of the snow fairly easy on the eyes.