Ep 15 | The Way of the Will (Principle #17)
The world may call a defiant, difficult, and disobedient child “strong-willed”, but we know that’s not so.
A strong-willed child can command themselves to choose what’s right even if it’s not what they want. Sounds pretty magical, right? But also, maybe a little difficult.
How does a mother-teacher help a child train their will? Let’s talk about it.
Video Resource | Let’s get practical.
JOIN THE MOTHER-TEACHERS IN COMMON HOUSE
Join the mother-teachers in Common House (It’s like a Patreon, but better.) where we think deeply and learn together through full courses, bonus minisodes, monthly Q+A video calls, resources, and more!
LEAVE A REVIEW
Would you like to help other new-to-homeschooling moms wrap their hands around the ideals and principles of a classical Charlotte Mason education? Leaving a podcast rating and review can do just that.
READ THE TRANSCRIPT
Principle #17: The way of the will: Children should be taught, (a) to distinguish between 'I want' and 'I will.' (b) That the way to will effectively is to turn our thoughts from that which we desire but do not will. (c) That the best way to turn our thoughts is to think of or do some quite different thing, entertaining or interesting. (d) That after a little rest in this way, the will returns to its work with new vigour. (This adjunct of the will is familiar to us as diversion, whose office it is to ease us for a time from will effort, that we may 'will' again with added power. The use of suggestion as an aid to the will is to be deprecated, as tending to stultify and stereotype character. It would seem that spontaneity is a condition of development, and that human nature needs the discipline of failure as well as of success.)
–––––––––
When I’m reading, and I’m sure my husband is unlikely to pick up that book, I like to take notes in my books. Call it “conversing with the author” or “leaving a trail for my children to follow one day” but it’s something I like to do.
Most of chapter 8 in Mason’s sixth volume, A Philosophy of Education, is filled with scribbled numerous “ha!”s, “exactly”s, and “Ouch, burn Mason”s. This chapter is cutting, inspiring, convicting, insightful, and hilarious all at once.
It’s Mason at her Masoniest.
We’re nearing the end of our trek through Mason’s twenty principles, today marks the seventeenth, but Mason is not winding down. She’s not easing up, but she is tying the full picture of her philosophy of education together and in doing that, she offers us a picture of two guides that form a child’s intellectual and moral self-management: the way of the will and the way of the reason.
Today, we’re talking about the way of the will.
If you didn’t catch the primer episode from last time, I’ll fill you in again that the will’s function is to choose, to decide, and to prefer. We all have a will and with every choice we make, we grow in our character—whether that be good or bad.
If our children have a strong will—like a truly strong will, not a modern-day difficult disposition—they’ll be able to govern or manage their passions and appetites. They’ll be able to choose what’s right even if it’s not what they want at the moment, and, on the other hand, be able to keep from doing what they want when it’s wrong. They’ll be able to manage themselves because—and this is very important—their will is fixed on something outside of themselves.
If our children have a weak will, they’ll take the easy way of doing whatever they want at the moment. They’ll be run by and in service of their own selves. And in this principle, Mason hammers that it takes zero action to serve the self.
And that’s been rolling around in my head for a few weeks: the idea that serving self requires no effort.
We live in a culture of self. We’re certainly not the first culture to be like that, but it’s true of us now. When I listen to people reason out their explicit choice of self, I usually hear phrases mixed in like, “It feels so natural”, “So easy”, and even “Life-giving.”
Which makes sense, because one doesn’t have to die to serve himself.
One of the primary characteristics of a strong will is that it is fixed on something outside of itself. We hope that something is goodness, that it’s God. We want our children to have such a vivid picture of the flourishing life in the Kingdom of God that they choose to die to themselves day after day after day. That they opt out of the path of least resistance, of the fake sirens’ call of living, and find that the path of life is one found in daily choices, decisions, and preferences of the will.
“Choose this day whom ye will serve.”
So we need to ask: are we helping our children, in the small decisions of will, choose God or self?
I know. That was a pretty big question to lob at you and obviously none of us are aiming to teach our children to choose self. But we are, all of us, a mixed bag of goodness and sin muddled together in the things we think, love, and do.
But I have good news for you about this principle: Mason was entirely reasonable. She’s clear that the will rises and falls, and that one of the secrets of living is to tide over the times of fall in willpower.
She means that we’re all going to fail, and struggle to choose the right ideas. We’ll have to pick ourselves back up and continue the pilgrim’s plod. It’s slow growth.
This is true of you and your kids.
And, you know, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Tick by tick.
What I find so interesting about the way of the will is that we actually already know exactly what to do to strengthen it. Mason is pulling her principles together, and here we see how our three instruments of education—atmosphere, discipline, and life—teach a child’s conscience and motivate the will to choose rightly.
Right thinking on part of the will flows from the spark of an idea, and we know all about ideas. When we say that education is a life, we mean that we offer our children a steady diet of living ideas from books. Right thinking requires a deep knowledge of the best ideas which are found in books and images and the histories of peoples and nations. The stories, folksongs, poetry, logic, picture and composer studies, recitations, and hours in nature are the rooting ideas that calibrate a child’s conscience over the course of their home education. They remember Betsy and Tacy, and the 300 brave Spartans, and Joshua and the Israelites, and Robert Louis Stevenson’s poems about table manners, and Thumbelina, and, always and forever, Aslan and Eustace. You may be reading to children who elbow one another on the couch and fight over the last cookie, but you are giving them living pictures of virtue, vice, the flourishing life, and of what they may grow to be.
I’m not trying to butter you up because I like read-alouds with my kids too. Mason says that it’s through reading that children will learn to understand the will and the power of ideas. They’ll begin to separate characters and decisions into two categories: those who are self-pleasing, impulsive, and self-seeking; and those who serve a standard of goodness outside of themselves.
And from there you can easily see how atmosphere and discipline come into play because we’ve already learned how the three tools work together. Your commonplace home life is one long lesson on right relationships with God, others, and things. For 18-ish years, you show your children in the way you live how to move in God’s world: thinking, loving, and doing rightly. And you don’t just show it, you use the instrument of discipline to help them learn habits of goodness, to help them practice every day until their norm is one of goodness.
I know that when you hear that—the norm of goodness—it sounds great. Particularly if you’re listening after bedtime when anything is possible once again. But tomorrow, when you’re greeted by one child with the grumps and another whining about making their bed, I want you to remember: this is the training ground of the will. For mothers, this is the job. I say that to myself all of the time. This. Is. My. Work.
It’s not that your children are extra weak-willed or incapable of growing in these things. It’s just that sometimes, this takes time. Like you might still be teaching orderliness to a teenager just like you’re still learning the habit of attention in your 30s.
Your instruments of atmosphere, discipline, and life are what you need to touch every part of your child as an image bearer. Mason is driving this home, bringing the full scope of her principles together, showing off a pretty beautiful philosophy of education if I do say so myself.
So to get more specific here, what do you do if you have a child whose will is weak and he seems to have no self-management?
–––––––––
Okay but before I lay that out for you, I’m here to remind you that over in The Commonplace Patreon, I’ll be sharing the Bonus 5 for today’s episode all about how I’ve had to reset our kids back towards goodness after we’ve gone completely off-course. If you’ve somehow managed to not hear about the Patreon, just know, that awaiting you are about 150 mother-teachers who are thinking deeply together and enjoying a lot of Commonplace perks.
Second, we’re winding down this season, and I’d be so grateful if you’d take a minute to leave The Commonplace a review over on Apple podcasts. It’s a simple, fast way to help support the podcast and help other moms get their bearings in the classical Charlotte Mason world.
All right, let’s get back to it. How do we help those children?!
–––––––––
1. Teach for what they need.
When you are aware that your child’s will is weak in a particular situation or with a particular idea, consider how you might practice choosing the right thing. Create scenarios and talk through them together. Have your child rehearse the right action by moving their bodies and practicing the right responses. Help your child think of how to avoid these situations or create a codeword that signals to you they need help at that moment.
2. Teach them how to change their thoughts.
This is Mason’s go-to: self-redirection. I’ve watched my mother-in-law masterfully redirect all of her grandkids with an easy kindness that never fails, and whenever I think of Mason’s 17th principle, I think of GoGo. The trick is simple: you help a child turn their thoughts to something that captures their attention. If you’re feeling like this is a gentle parenting trick that doesn’t actually help teach a child, I’ll gently remind you that scripture is full of this same idea. We’re supposed to pay attention to what we think about, take our thoughts captive and change them, dwell on what is lovely, noble, and true.
So, we show our kids how to do that when their will grows weak. Show them how to take a turn around the backyard for a bit of fresh air and sunshine. To sing a favorite song or say a favorite poem. To read a short picture book. To grab a snack. To think about the fun activity to come. To consider how they can outdo others with honor.
Once they’ve had a few minutes, their will should once again be ready for battle.
3. Focus on the habits of obedience and attention.
Unsurprisingly, the way of the will is difficult to build without the habits of obedience and attention. What is choosing goodness but obedience in practice? How can a child dismiss wandering thoughts without paying attention? So, be mindful of how often you repeat yourself. Be ready to help a child follow through on any command you give, which means, yes, you will be spending a good bit of time helping your children. Set time limits on work around the house and in school, so that obedience and attention are both practiced and then, allow natural consequences to occur.
4. Avoid the use of suggestion.
You’ll remember in Mason’s fourth principle, she warns against the use of suggestion but it is repeated at length in this chapter. Suggestion weakens the child’s will because suggestion is, on one hand, doing the work of the will, and, on the other, overwhelming the will. I think the most common way moms of young kids practice suggestion is by reminding them repeatedly: “Oooh, don’t forget, we have to clean up our toys before we can go to the park. Did you remember? We can’t go to the park until you clean up your toys. I know you really wanted to go to the park today, so let’s clean up these toys.”
So, maybe don’t do that. Instead, grab the great books, help them practice goodness in thought, word, and deed; get them out-of-doors, and set yourself to the task of forming their conscience with every bit of truth, goodness, and beauty available to you.
Mason says that the will guards the City of Mansoul, which is, you know, man’s soul. Knowing this city is the key to protecting this city. The riches of Mansoul must be shown to your child. They must hear, see, taste, feel, and smell the kindness of God through the common and uncommon things of life, of home, of education. Their imagination, affections, loyalties, and thoughts must be directed to the only place where they’ll find satisfaction and joy. We can’t control our children’s will; we can’t actually command their attention or choose for them in an way that doesn’t ultimately harm them. But when we teach the habit, set the tone, and lay out the school books, we’re offering our children a picture of their inheritance: the hard-earned wisdom of those who’ve pursued truth, goodness, and beauty and found, in the end, virtue, which is the prize for loving the right things at the right time and in the right way. That’s the gift of a strong will in service to God.
This is for the city of Mansoul.
I’ll see you guys in two weeks.
Want (more of) the good stuff?
Join the 400+ mother-teachers in Common House (It’s like a Patreon, but better.) where we think deeply and learn together through full courses, bonus minisodes, monthly Q+A video calls, resources, and more!
