I have been a thousand different women .  Some I slipped into resembling Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz’s  ruby slippers made just for...

Etched in the red rock of Capitol Reef, Utah One often hears about traveling light  and how much more ease there is within less than more. I remember reading years ago about the small percentage of one’s wardrobe we actually wear. I most certainly have my favorites, and I recall when my children began dressing themselves, they too gravitated towards what made them feel cozy and comfortable. For Douglas, it was his camo shirt and shorts. Sarah, adored her pink and blue sweat s

At a time when there is so much talk about the need for peace (and much focus on the lack thereof), I’ve been thinking about how to sow...

My mother and me. We never did take our eyes off of one another. In a most nourishing and reflective meditation offered by Sarah Blondin, she begins by saying, I understand and believe you are held with tenderness and delight. Sarah recounts after speaking with her father about feeling as if she was spiraling into fear, how he responded was what began to calm and settle her insides. She shares, what I love most about my dad is that he didn’t dive into the experience with me.

Douglas and me at his high school graduation. Write about what frightens you the most. This came across as a prompt on Substack recently. I have witnessed countless times with children, both with my own, and the ones in my class room that there is truth  contained within this. As soon as they were ready to share, whether using their words, drawings, or in written form, what was frightening them, it morphed into something that didn’t feel as daunting. It can become our Krypton

Artwork by Saundra Shanti These are the times… …of polarity, of fracture, of rants and tears.  I don’t know sometimes if I am feline or human. What kind of bones are in my body? Are they so different from the bones of my neighbor? For me personally this is a time of rest, recovery, reflection, spacious exploration or indulgent non-doing. I get to wander and wonder and admittedly this can digress into puttering and squandering and then the guilt from the question that towers o