I made a curriculum for the Elements: a love letter to all things everywhere. and I want you to have it. Below is a good deal for you.
The curriculum is for
It’s for remembering and learning about our vastness and our interconnectedness as a family, a human family, a classroom and a world.
There is no zooming involved whatsoever.
If you want this curriculum, and the e-book, go to the link in my profile above.
If you are one of the first five, you can get 50% off the curriculum and ebook bundle. CODE is XOXOXO
If you are in financial straights right now, email me and we can work something out. Because I want you to have this resource if it will be helpful to you.
Please message me with questions!
The e-book is 15.99. The curriculum is 49.99. Bundles are a little cheaper.
2. The all ages, interdisciplinary Elements curriculum is for use with the book. While developing this curriculum, I envisioned you at home with kids of various ages jumping all over the couch, though it can also be used in classrooms. Whether your child is just starting to sound out words, making professional level powerpoint presentations, or doing a lot of creative writing, lettering or art activities, there is something in there for everybody.
The formal 68 page curriculum comes with 11 Lesson Plans, printable worksheets, instructions, talking points and time estimates, but unlike most curricula it doesn’t silo subjects and grades the way I used to make sure my vegetables and starches didn’t touch on my plate. It does some mixing it up and there are lots of variations to make the activity or lesson work best for your learner and situation.
The first FIVE orders can get both the ebook and the curriculum for 50% off!!
See all of the bundle options and please let me know if you are interested in a larger order - there are wholesale options too.
I debuted the curriculum and ebook at Quest Under the Stars - a big online science fair with many zoom rooms presenting all kinds of cool stuff - NASA moon rocks in 3D, How Rockets are Made, and encounters with Astronauts. A small child asked me ‘how does gold get in things?’ and her sister held up a plastic baton and asked ‘Is this real?’ which are both very deep questions. It was cool to connect with a teacher who wants to coordinate her english classroom with the science classroom, and waldorf educators get excited about the Head Heart and Hands quality of the Elements book.
We have an official e-book for Elements: a love letter to all things everywhere !!
I find the timing a little poetic, that the virtual version should turn up just when we need it most.
It’s 15.99, in epub format and really does look beautiful on an ipad. It’s the kind of eye-popping color I was looking at when I designed the book, and it was assembled professionally at 5th Avenue Press by Amanda Szot so it’s *legit*.
It's particularly challenging to create e-books for art books, and I am very grateful that I didn't have to do it myself. This e-book comes right as the Elements- all ages, interdisciplinary, kick-ass curriculum for occupying yourself and your kids in a mind expanding, playful way, comes out too! Learn more about that here, and see the bundled deals you can get at our shop
Because pandemic, in my coaching calls, everything is different. I’ve been coaching since 2007. I’ve had one particular client since 2008, off and on. It’s been an incredible 12 year relationship and it’s been an honor to work with such a talented individual through so many passages in her life.
After Covid-19 reared up, the treadmill of the world ground to a halt. The tone of our coaching conversations definitively changed. At first it felt very odd: planning is pretty much out if it’s outside of a 24 hour window, and it’s challenging to vision much when all our hard work to bring things about is suddenly yielding something so unrecognizable and not often welcome. And then it began to shift.
The way I was initially trained as a coach, everything was set up around a goal and a vision.
After determining these, I help my client to charter a path to achieve that goal. There was a kind of go gettem' vibe to the whole thing. In the past five or so years, I’ve avoided the word "goal", in my coaching practice, unless a client is very goal focused already. I’ve avoided the word goal because it’s interlaced with pressure, pushing or force. The idea of *getting* and *attaining* was fun for a bit, but then became easily pretty painful. Lately that goal-oriented, ambition-driven approach feels like a record playing at the wrong speed.
Right now, this appears to be a time to yield, give, show up with funny hair in your real life situation, to rest and to receive.
The sessions remain a space for opening to what’s already here, and for listening to what somehow we already know and even remember, about the life that is coming into view up ahead. Our job is to listen inwardly, and to open to what’s there.
My clients and I have been asking each other and ourselves: What does a business plan look like right now? How might you create one on the new earth? What does a work day look like?
Time itself feels altered. I hear people share about forgetting what day it is, and I’m astonished when it’s the end of a day or the start of a new one, or that it’s been three months since this halt began.
The guidance is still there but with a different access point and quality. It’s in the walks and the clouds passing overhead. It’s in those quiet words that spill out that are the truth, after a bunch of tears or challenging words. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the night.
I also notice a strong impulse to serve and to help coming out of us humans. I find it’s important to listen in to the tone of that impulse. Is it guilt? Is it a kind of free floating anxiety? If so, it has been proving very important to ground, to rest and to care for what’s immediately asking for attention, very locally, before going out to try and *do* anything.
From what I can make out so far, this is a huge ship that’s being turned around, and right now all of the furniture is being rearranged while we’re still trying to use it. It’s going to take time. Or, to use another metaphor, a nicely arranged set of blocks has been thrown up into the air, and it hasn’t landed, and we don’t know what kind of configuration or chaos will be left when it does.
And then there’s the grief. We have lost a lot. Our way of socializing, even a smile in the grocery aisle is gone. Hugs. Sitting out in public near others. A sense of civic normalcy. Libraries. Routines. Privacy. Touch. Trust in our governing bodies. Many deaths have come and many forms of security we thought of as normal, have gone.
So, how do we do this?
Just the way we are doing this.
Bumpily, awkwardly, smoothly every couple of days for a little while, and then something else entirely. What’s in front of you? What feels right? That’s the next thing. That’s the next small, local, and perfect thing.
Hannah Burr is a contemporary artist and author. Originally from Boston, she lives in Ann Arbor MI.