I wrote the first draft of this poem on January 26, 2025, during a Courage to Teach retreat outside Frederick, Maryland. We had read William Stafford’s “The Way It Is,” and I just couldn’t get it out of my head.
On the mantel above my fireplace sits a representation of Quan Yin. I keep her there where I can always see her, because she embodies my intention and my spiritual practice as a human being and as a writer.
I lived in my suburban townhouse for nine years before I set foot inside a neighbor’s house. I knew their names and enough for a few minutes of small talk, but after that it felt safer to hurry back inside…
My husband and I moved to Vermont, in part, because of our love for the land and farming. We filled our new homestead with native plants to support pollinators. This year, our farmer neighbor decided to plant corn on our border - corn laced with pesticides...
Long ago, I was invited to Thanksgiving dinner in the home of a family with two lovely little girls. Both the meal and the company were excellent. The kids had been excused to go play, and some of the grownups were eying a second piece of pie, when suddenly one of the little girls yelped, ran into the room, and burst into tears.
About tomorrow... Written on Tuesday, November 5, 2024.Today is one of those Big Days. One of those dates that's been stamped out in my future in bright red ink: Tuesday,…
What quote is in your email signature? Why did you include it? What are you trying to tell us? Why take the time to write a reflection? Every story helps to build a bridge of understanding across our divides.
The pandemic was particularly hard on the mental health of adolescents. Their activities, plans, hopes and dreams were canceled or changed, and disappointment hit hard. Now many teenagers are depressed, angry, frustrated, confused and are falling deep into holes of anxiety, fear and futility.
It’s the summer solstice. And right now, where many of us live, it’s hot. I was thinking about finding some otherworldly music to mark the solstice. Something that would help lower our temperatures. But while looking for that kind of music, I stumbled on another kind.
These lines from Joni Mitchel's song, "Borderline," jumped out at me when I heard them on the car radio today. She released the song in 1994 - 30 years ago.