“Sit down wherever you are And listen to the wind singing in your veins.” ~ John Welwood You are enough….
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spicy holiday granola
Be attentive lest you miss the grace that passes before you, whether as small as a single birdsong or as…
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no sides
The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a sad, monotonous song. “Summer is over…
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mending the world
My mom, who is eighty, gets up in the dark every morning. She likes to sit near the window in…
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joy, tempered
Even joy can be complicated. Some thoughts on peace and politics in troubled times.
happy reports
The other morning, I snapped the leash onto Tess’s collar and headed out for a walk. We followed our old…
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