Ninety Nine and 44/100% Pure

by Sherry Pimsler © Marin Waldorf School for personal use only

In a recent community study, we read one of Steiner's lectures from the book, Education as an Art. The conversation which followed touched upon the importance of allowing one's own application of anthroposophy to flow from the moment, from what one meets in every day experience - in this age, in this time. Steiner once said, "If I had my way, I would give anthroposophy a new name every day to prevent people from hanging on to its literal meaning, from translating it from the Greek, so they can form judgments accordingly. It is immaterial what name we attach to what is being done here. The only thing that matters is that everything we do here is focused on life's realities and that we never lose sight of them. We must never be tempted to implement sectarian ideas." In the public lecture which we read, "Education and the Science of Spirit", delivered at Aarau, Switzerland on Nov. 11, 1921, he states:

Although the Waldorf School originates in the science of spirit, this does not mean to say - and I ask you to take particular note of this - that it advances certain views. Least of all is it concerned with introducing anthroposophical "dogma", if I may use the expression, anthroposophical "convictions", into the school. The Waldorf School neither wishes to be a school with a particular view of the world nor a sectarian school, for although one often believes the contrary, this is not in the nature of the science of spirit.

It is part of the nature of the science of spirit that it can adapt itself to every situation in life, for it is its intention to work directly out of life. It does not seek to hunt after utopian ideas in any way, but to create what is latent in the human being out of the immediate practice of life, out of the conditions that actually exist…

Years ago, as a new Waldorf parent, I recall the gentle, yet firm, suggestions of my daughter's kindergarten teacher. My response to this unique way of looking at child development fell somewhere between skepticism and blind faith. Lukily for me (or I should say, my daughter), blind faith won out more often than not - mainly because I was too busy to challenge these ideas which had their roots in something called anthroposophy. At one point, Confessions of a Waldorf Parent, by Meg Gorman was recommended to me. I found the description of her experience enormously reassuring. In it, she speaks of the struggle she had in coming to terms with what she perceived as "dogma" which she felt asked her to turn her life upside down in order to become a Waldorf parent. She describes her initial confusion:

"About this time, I had the good fortune to hear a lecture at our Waldorf school by the Viennese expert in Waldorf pre-school education, Bronja Zahlingen. Her lecture concerned the importance of simple, natural toys for small children. At the end of the lecture, a young mother stood up and asked what she should do about her three-year old daughter. The child had an ugly rubber baby doll to which she was deeply devoted and completely attached. With tears in her eyes and guilt written all over her face, this mother asked if she should take the doll away from the child. Mrs. Zahlingen replied, 'By all means, let her keep her baby. She has made this doll beautiful and has redeemed it with her love.' I returned home that night with an immense sense of relief. I did not take Mrs. Zahlingen's answer as a carte-blanche endorsement of plastic toys, but I knew that, from now on, polyester and plastic would live in peace beside wool and wood at our house."

Later, through her studies, Meg began to incorporate Rudolf Steiner's practical suggestions into her daily life, finding them almost always helpful. "It was a short jump from here to one of the most obnoxious and embarrassing periods of my life which, for want of a better term, I shall call the 'pure stage'. After about three years of weekly study group meetings, I found that Steiner's ideas began to ring true for me, and I decided that his insights must, in consequence, be useful to everyone I encountered. Steiner was not (contrary to what is sometimes heard) a rigid and dogmatic man. However, there is something in human nature which wants to take the best part of a good thing and get moralistic about it. The dogmatism of my early childhood took hold of me and, as an enthusiastic, budding convert, I was off and running.

"This pure stage is nothing short of a grueling ordeal for the children, close friends and the spouse of the 'pure one'. Its symptoms are multitudinous. First, plastic toys are given away; juice is served in lieu of wine; knotty-nutty, tough, whole-wheat cookies replace puff pastry; and meat is generally removed from the diet. The husband finds wool underwear in his drawer and thinks about the lives of saints in hair shirts. This same person, the father of the family, who is inclined to haute cuisine, refuses to eat after a while, and grows lean and mean. He becomes conspiratorial and sneaks out with the children to McDonald's when the pure one is away. Meanwhile, the pure one is suffering the tortures of the damned for fear her children are being severely damaged by an occasional Big Mac.

"Although my time in the pure stage was short-lived (largely due to my natural inclination towards things impure), it was vigorous, and therefore, all the more repulsive. This period of my life was characterized by a holier-than-thou attitude cloaked in the subtle robes of good intentions. As I struggled with the very real anxieties of this stage, I began to understand a little more about the need for rhythm and balance in my life. I had certainly become imbalanced and, worse yet, unfree. I went back once again to my inner chambers to haul out the sludge that the pure stage had left behind.

"This is not to say that vegetarianism, natural fibers, meditation, natural toys and the simple life are negative things. Indeed, we would probably all be better off for living in these ways. But, I have learned that it is inappropriate, if not downright evil, to inflict my way of thinking on other people, no matter how much I may think they need it. In fact, it is outrageous to think that I can even assess the needs of others in these matters. It is the worst sort of arrogance. I have learned over the years that a good human being with plastic flowers on her sideboard, polyester on her back, and Oreos on her table, may be a far purer and better person than one who carries malice and judgment in her heart towards the impure."

Few, if any, Waldorf parents would say they cannot relate to both aspects of Meg's journey. In the end, the key is balance. When one is most in doubt about the "rightness" of a certain aspect of Waldorf education, it is best to remember that the foundation out of which it comes is based on a way of seeing and being which is constantly moving and changing to appropriately meet the challenges of the times in which we live. Steiner offers no recipe, but rather a path of continual development and growth.