Living
What’s the Story, Morning Glory?
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To be clear, the primary factor in that review was the frustration and anger I directed at myself because “I should be able to do all the things.” Well, guess what, chickens? Should is a four-letter word.
Living
The Little Things
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It never surprises me when my dad shows up in memory or visitation when I am thinking about the Adirondacks or wandering in the woods somewhere. Those were his places and my places, and another one of the connections that we shared.
Living
Healing the Land
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Who knows how long this land has been yearning for the return of plants that feel just right in her soil? I do not have the answer to that question, but I know she has been whispering to me about it since I met her.
Living
Ruby Slippers
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Never ones to miss an opportunity to teach, my guides use the magic of midnight darkness to summon a TV screen image of Dorothy, finally safe at home in Kansas, trying to convince the adults in her life that her liminal journey really happened. I hear her voice as she says: “And you, and you, and you, and you were there.”
Living
Column: Be Easy When You Can
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Everything felt and seemed peaceful and quiet until my monkey-minded self interrupted my focus to wonder what on earth that raven was doing sitting so quietly for so long. Perhaps he wanted to see if I was still as funny as I believed. Who knows the mind of a raven?