The Absorbent Mind

by Netefi Khentimah

I have come to discover in the humble villages of Africa, where it is said that all of life  began, the motherland itself, that there exist traditions which have been upheld and  preserved, carrying the authentic understanding of the spiritual consequence of children.  These traditions teach that children are not mere beginnings, but continuances of  bloodlines, of an ancestral spirit. Life is not measured from gestation or from birth onward; it is already present in the natural unity of man and woman yielding life, a rhythm  expressed generation after generation. Children are the beloved presence of this - The Becoming, the constant state and status of human life. The birth of a child, crossing  through the threshold into life, is the revelation of pure, uncorrupted potential at its greatest. Children are reincarnating from an existence beyond our sight, returning to commence their own journey by way of continuing the journey of those of the lineage in which they embody.  

It is within the piercing of profound mysteries that these traditions have come to recognize the sacred seriousness of a life returning, and the stern importance of reverencing those lives who will carry forward their ancestral vow. In this view, children are not fragile accidents of biology but divine participants in the eternal rhythm of becoming, at every stage of life. Maria Montessori’s concept of the absorbent mind affirms this ancient understanding. She observed that from birth to six, the child has a special mental power, absorbing the environment without effort or discrimination. As she wrote, “the most  important period of life is not the age of university studies, but the first one, the period from  birth to the age of six” (The Absorbent Mind). Montessori’s insights echo what indigenous traditions have always preserved: the beginning determines the becoming, and the environment and rearing laid in those first encounters carry lasting spiritual consequences. 

Indigenous wisdom tells us that the child is born still belonging to the hands of the  ancestors and the divine. We see them as wide open, without filters, receiving everything  they encounter. That is why it is important to understand that each impression will inevitably become part of their being. Montessori observed the same truth: “The things he sees are not just remembered; they form part of his soul” (The Absorbent Mind). Traditions rooted in culture have long recognized this openness, and so the care of children is not left to chance. It becomes a shared understanding of the village, woven into the rhythm of daily life, to ensure that what the child is exposed to keeps them aligned with the values, knowledge, and practices they need in order to thrive. In this way, the collective work of the community safeguards the continuity of bloodlines and strengthens the child’s ability to fulfill the journey of their lineage.  

The absorbent mind is effortless, indiscriminate, and guided by sensitive, yet divine  periods. These are windows when the child is especially attuned to language, both spoken and unspoken, the movements of things seen and unseen, and to fitting themselves into the natural order. In traditional thought, these moments are the whispers of spirit, or divine guidance drawing the child toward what they need to grow, evolve and align with their purpose. Indigenous traditions, by way of their culture, already set the environment for the child to thrive. Through daily living, customs, and values, children are immersed in an order that supports their evolution without need for force. The role of the community is not to wield power over the new spirits returning, but to safeguard the space for the invisible work of The Becoming to unfold, within the bounds of reason and care. Montessori’s vision reflects this same wisdom: rather than controlling the child, the adult prepares the  environment and steps back, allowing the inner teacher and vital forces within the child to guide development.  

The child’s mind can be compared to fertile soil: whatever seed is planted, whether  nourishing grain or invasive weed, takes root and grows. These divine periods are the  seasons of planting, when the soil is most open to receive, and the mind, body and spirit  are unadulterated. Early life is not preparation for some distant future, it is the shaping of the foundation itself, the very ground upon which a human being stands for the rest of their life. From birth to three, Montessori observed that the absorbent mind  functions unconsciously. The child takes in language, habits, and values simply by being  immersed in them. From three to six, the child becomes more conscious, choosing and  repeating activities to master what was first absorbed. As Montessori explained: “The child  is endowed with unknown powers, which can guide us to a radiant future” (The Absorbent  Mind). Indigenous wisdom deepens this observation, teaching that what Montessori  described as “unknown powers” is in fact the child’s spirit remembering, the continuance of lineage stirring within, seeking out the impressions it needs to fulfill its journey. Every repetition, every fixation, every absorbed detail is purposeful. Just as water carves valleys through stone, these early experiences cut channels into the child’s character, shaping the flow of their entire life.  

Indigenous wisdom teaches that all living beings are moved by a divine force that offers them the chance to grow, adapt, and fulfill their destiny. This vital energy is not accidental  but ordered; it is the current of life itself pressing forward in every creature. The horne, as  Montessori explains, is this same inner force at work within the child. She wrote, “The child  is guided by an inner force which takes him to his goal in life. We have called this inner force  the horne” (The Absorbent Mind). The horne is unconscious willpower, a vital drive that  compels the child to act without external prompting. A toddler climbing steps again and  again is not merely playing, they are obeying this law of life. The same constructive energy that urges seeds to sprout and rivers to flow is alive in them. In indigenous traditions, this is  the spark of divine vitality: the force ensuring that growth is not random but purposeful,  propelling the child toward their becoming.  

Alongside the vital drive of the horne, indigenous traditions affirm that each child carries a voice of guidance, an inner teacher, that directs them toward what they most need. Montessori recognized this as well, cautioning adults: “We must not interfere when the  child is working. He knows better than we do what he needs” (The Secret of Childhood). A  child pouring water again and again, or carefully arranging objects, is not acting without  reason; they are following this inner compass. In many cultures, the act of pouring water is  itself a sign, an omen, or even a libation to invisible realities. To disturb it would be to interrupt a sacred dialogue. In the same way, the child’s repetition is a form of devotion to the order unfolding within them. Adults may not always see the purpose, but the child’s inner teacher does. It directs them to the activities that cultivate concentration, coordination, and independence. In indigenous traditions, this inner teacher is the whisper of ancestral wisdom, rooted in the order of nature itself. It ensures that the child’s growth  remains aligned with environment, lineage, and destiny. To honor this inner teacher - this ancestral wisdom requires humility: the adult must step back, prepare the space, and trust the wisdom that is already alive within the child.  

Through the absorbent mind, energized by the horne and guided by the inner teacher, the child acquires the essentials of human life: language, absorbed effortlessly through listening and imitation; movement and independence, refined through repeated purposeful action; order and stability, providing emotional security; and cultural identity, absorbed  through observation of daily life. Montessori declared, “The child is the builder of man. There is no man existing who has not been formed by the child he once was” (The Absorbent Mind). Indigenous thought echoes that the child is not a vessel waiting to be filled but a living being constructing themselves in relationship with the world. The impressions of childhood are sacred because they determine whether the child grows in  balance with order or in conflict with it. For it is through these early foundations that  humans in this lifetime will write their own history, and whatever the environment provides becomes the ground upon which the fullness of their achievements will one day stand.

According to Montessori, because the absorbent mind takes in everything, the adult  carries a sacred responsibility. She emphasized that “the adult must understand and  respect the laws of development, instead of imposing his own will” (The Secret of  Childhood). Indigenous traditions affirm this, seeing the adult as a custodian of order for  the next generation, entrusted with safeguarding the environment so that children may thrive. The adult’s role is not to mold but to prepare: to create environments of order,  beauty, and harmony; to model respect, patience, and integrity, knowing the child  unconsciously imitates; to protect concentration and silence, recognizing that deep  engagement nourishes the spirit; to provide truthful and rich language, planting seeds of  thought; and to observe with humility, intervening only to adjust conditions, not to direct  the child’s being. The adult, then, is like a gardener. A gardener cannot force the seed to  grow but can offer soil, water, and protection. In the same way, adults cannot build the  child directly but can cultivate the conditions in which divine order guides their growth. To  fulfill this role is to recognize that the child belongs first to The Becoming; the adult is only a  steward, preparing the ground so that life may reveal its fullness through the child.  

The absorbent mind is a sacred gift of nature, a power that allows the child to take in the  world and manifest themselves during the earliest years of life. It is fueled by the horne, the vital drive compelling growth, and guided by the inner teacher, the compass within. Montessori called the child “a hope and a promise for mankind” (Education and Peace). Indigenous traditions affirm the same: the child carries the continuity of humanity and the  wisdom of ancestors, embodying the beloved presence of The Becoming. Like a sponge, the child soaks in what surrounds them. Like wet cement, impressions harden into lasting form. Like a seed, they unfold according to the care of the soil. Yet these images capture more than biology, they point to a spiritual reality. The child is spirit returned, crossing the threshold with a vow, carrying forward the destiny of their lineage.