Early August. The fields of Ytter-Järna. (In front of Kulturhuset.)
There’s a bee, too! It wasn’t the best photo of the lovely corn-flowers, but it was the only one with a bee.
I read a great book today, and I thought: if anthroposophy can inspire this, it sure is worth something. Then you go online, and are immediately disabused of your illusions. No, I don’t really mean that. What I do mean, however, is that almost the entire waldorf movement — and its inhabitants — is making anthroposophy look like something so utterly destructive. Anthroposophy should lose waldorf. Waldorf people are fanatical assholes. All these people with their unbearable superiority complex, all this hypocrisy, all this complete uselessness, this dishonesty, this inability to look any further than the personal (and the inability to distinguish knowledge from experience), this uncritical adoption of waldorf ‘truths’, this complete self-absorption (‘my kid is fantastic, which proves you wrong’ — well, go to hell).
I know whose thinking is black and white — and it sure isn’t mine.
There’s something deeply troubling about waldorf mothers. There’s a belief so strong it becomes dangerous. It’s the belief which harmed me. Outsiders rarely understand how powerful it is, this belief. But for someone like me to try to communicate with such a soul. I can’t. When people say there’s no violence in waldorf schools — I say, fuck you! There is. The problem with mothers is that they so much want paradise for their children that they happily believe any prospect and promise — no matter how unrealistic. This just goes on and on. And these ‘discussions’ keep repeating themselves. But the drive is too strong. You can’t fight other people’s beliefs, when they need these beliefs.
It doesn’t matter what I think about anthroposophy or Rudolf Steiner, it doesn’t matter which things I feel admiration or even love for — there are other things I just can’t deal with.
It is, for example, this waldorf mindset, for want of a better expression — I won’t say it’s unique to waldorf or that everybody involved in waldorf displays it –, which causes an allergic reaction in me. It’s as though my instincts tell me I need to piss this person off as much as I can. Maybe it’s some delayed revenge kind of thing. Maybe it’s resentment and anger still lingering. Maybe it’s just my inability, my not being able to do anything else; my wanting to kick and scream because I know no rational way of dealing with people like this. It feels like someone is trying to lock me up in a confined space with my waldorf kindergarten teacher.
If I finally learnt one thing in waldorf, after many years of not getting it — it’s this: it’s better to be the one who strikes first. And if someone strikes you, you strike them ten times harder. You make sure they know you loathe them.
I’m off topic, of course. I just wanted to say I love this field, I love this corn-flower, I loved this day in Järna — it was wonderful (and because I’m an evil person, everyone will assume I’m being ironic; I’m not though) and I almost felt my pictures weren’t lovely enough, but they’ll have to do — I love writers and I love art, and I kind of love Steiner in my very own way, and I sort of like being confusing (especially to bees! but they’re easily confused) even if I can’t help it, and I’d rather be a paradoxical question than a dogmatic answer; but there are things I can’t do much about, my disrespect for die-hard believer waldorf mothers is one of them. If I ever begin to meditate, I won’t meditate on the concept of waldorf motherhood, because it does nothing but agitate me, to no avail whatsoever.
Maybe it’s the whole notion of people deciding to be parents I can’t stand. Why do people do such stupid things? That’s what I’d like to know. No, come to think of it, I don’t.
Now, back to the fields, back to interesting thoughts, back to interesting reads.