Remembering August 22, 1970
Fifty years ago this week my mom nearly died in a terrorist bombing in St. Paul. Just weeks before my senior year in high school. I want to tell the story, to mark the anniversary, to make sense of it after so many years. But I’m not sure I can make sense of it. Mom...In the Stream Together
We are living neath the Great Big Dipper We are washed by the very same rain We are swimming in the stream together, some in power and some in pain We can worship this ground we walk on, cherishing the beings that we live beside Loving spirits will live forever,...Ode to a Sweatshirt
As I reached happily for my well worn hooded sweatshirt again this morning, I wondered suddenly why I feel such affection for it, and for all those I’ve ever had, why I am always on the lookout for new ones to replace those that wear out, and why I am so excited when...Happy Birthday
My birthday was ten days ago. Miraculously, the weather was lovely that day—sunny, highs in the 70s, low humidity. Highly unusual for that date. My birthday almost always falls on one of those insufferably hot, humid and airless midsummer days familiar to Minnesotans....A Crystal in Six Words
Find anything to avoid tax prep. Have you heard about six word memoirs? The idea is to challenge yourself to write your biography, or a significant piece of it, in just six words. The classic example of this is attributed in literary legend to Ernest Hemingway: For...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)
