A Mystery of Childhood Mementos
I wish I’d remembered to take a photo of my childhood jewelry box. When I was about 8 I wanted one with a ballet dancer who twirled en pointe when you opened the box—all the rage at the time. Instead, my parents gave me one painted with French poodles sitting at a...A Deathbed Reclamation
Tomorrow is November 2, the culmination of an auspicious period for honoring the dead. It is also my dad’s 101st birthday. So I’m going to tell you a story about my dad, a kind of ghost story because it took place at his death. On May 8, 2008 I got a call at 2 am...Fruit and Death
Autumn Haiku Sprawled on sunny ground Crunchy leaves and dusty grass Scent of fruit and death AEP 10/9/20 Fruit and death. The scent of autumn, and what comes to mind as I clear out the house we’ve lived in for nearly 30 years. Finding things long forgotten,...Respite from the Mind
I’ve just returned home from several enchanted days on Lake Superior. My greedy mind — muted for awhile by movement, story, song, beauty, affection, and silence — now wants to read mail, catch up on national news, make necessary appointments, resume tasks set...Minnesota November
Dusk descends early on this cold, gray cloudy November day. All day I needed the lamplight next to my chair to read, and now I spread the wool throw over me. Halloween/Samhain/All Soul’s Day ushered in the dark time, a reminder of death and ancestors, of mystery and...Share This Post
Welcome to Whisperings
“There is a place where words are born of silence,
A place where the whispers of the heart arise.”
— Rumi
I will ponder here what whispers to me in the silence. I’d love for you to whisper back; maybe we will all get clearer—or maybe, like in the old kids’ game of “telephone” we will end up somewhere else entirely (which would be fun too)
