Mid-step on a Winding Staircase

Image Credit: 
Christine und Hagen Graf

I loved to sit halfway up a winding staircase at Grandma's house and imagine. What was growing up in this house like?

Did wondering children sit on steps?  Did they race up to the attic playroom or down to dinner? At the top of the staircase opened a door for my sister and me into the attic and our father's childhood playroom.

A cornucopia of vintage toys fueled by children's energy and imagination awaited us.  We astonished ourselves with new-found abilities winding up music boxes and jack-in-the boxes. Music or motion resulted from our action, not batteries.

We recognized classic toys like wooden trains and blocks. We later learned that few of these toys came from stores. Our grandfather, relatives, family friends and children themselves had put together the dollhouse, cars, and hobby horses. Those toys still carried the imagination, skill, and love of their creators.  

My sister and I would never meet our grandfather, who passed away years before our births. Yet, magically, we could experience the best of him, still infused in his home-made, wooden toys.  

That evening, we besieged our parents with new questions.  They shared how they would dream up new toys, gather materials from scraps around the house, put them together, and in each step infuse these playthings with memories.  In working on and playing with the toys, Mom and Dad both developed new skills and invested pieces of themselves.

In that moment, we glimpsed the eternal children living in our parents.  We saw the experiences that linked our parents' inner children to their adult selves.  We discovered bits of our parents in our own creativity and perspectives.  That day, we all grew in wisdom and appreciation for one another.  We experienced what I now identify as motherwit.

Motherwit certainly links steps of experiences into a meaningful whole, but it also fuses generations into a staircase.  We build on the past and stretch up towards the future. In so doing, we discover new aspects of ourselves.  

One of many ways to connect is to continue the tradition. To my delight, Mother Earth News shares my enthusiasm for old-fashioned toys, even detailing directions to make wooden ducks, ducks, and the like.  These toys not only connect with past wisdom, but also to a sustainable future.  As Robert Anton Wilson remarks, "The way forward is also the way back."

Now, a winding, pie-wedge staircase represents for me not only idle questions, but the very connections between generations. A single step rarely leads to a destination; a flowing sequence of steps takes us to new levels.  

Now, a winding, pie-wedge staircase represents for me not only idle questions, but the very connections between generations. A single step rarely leads to a destination; a flowing sequence of steps takes us to new levels.  

Join the Conversation

Vintage toys open the door to our family's past.
Image Credit: Jean L.

Perhaps many of your still sit midway up your personal staircases.  If so, open the door at the top.  You may identify with family heirlooms, photos, recipes, or stories.  All of these and more connect you with motherwit.  

Share your stories in the comments below. When we pool motherwit, we build up our collective wealth.

Origins of Motherwit

Motherwit came into my vocabulary via the extraordinary, African-American women of my mother's senior citizen book club. Along with knowledge of homemaking, gardening, budgeting and nursing, their mothers passed on a foundation for common sense, long-term planning, and problem-solving.

Motherwit equipped them to navigate through changing political climates and opportunities which their mothers could only envision.  They entered careers in nursing, education, and business.

Despite their qualifications, scales varied by race and gender. White counterparts expected them to clean common areas. The powers that be expected them to fail and wash out.  Instead, they took root and grew into integral team members.

Their stories reminded me of my own mother's practical wisdom and skills. She bore the brunt of raising children, managing a household, and supporting a family. She faced double standards and pay scales at work. She took on adjunct teaching and ghost writing jobs with lots of work and no credit.

Motherwit navigated her through a sea of troubles, yet kept her focus, faith, and creativity intact.

Image Credit: Cheryl

The triumph of motherwit reminded me of the creative spirit Alice Walker described in her essay, "In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens." Her own mother worked beside, not behind, her husband in a life of gardening, canning, cooking, sewing, and housekeeping.

However, her unending workload didn't dampen her mother's creativity.  Her mother's carved out a creative outlet in sprinkling flower seeds in the garden, an act of beauty that fed her soul. Walker reflects,

"Guided by a heritage of a love of beauty and a respect for strength - in search of my mother's garden, I found my own."

Whether I darn a sock, mend a shirt, or whip up a dinner from refrigerator remnants, I apply basic principles learned from her. When I face a tough situation, I ask myself the questions she asked me. How much time do I have? How would I want someone to treat me?  Can I solve this problem alone, or do I need help?

Unfortunately, motherwit is vanishing.  Technology replaces family ties as a major influence shaping our lives. Ironically, the very force undermining motherwit can also preserve it.  This blog seeks to preserve this endangered cultural treasure.

As times evolve, so will motherwit.  New generations and backgrounds can join the conversation.  As they do, the wealth of knowledge multiplies.  Together, we can reap the dividends.