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...Brain Jam, Spilled Emotion and a Butterfly
Joy is the gift of love. Grief is the price of love. Anger protects that which is loved. And when we think we have reached our limit, wonder is the act that returns us to love. Valarie Kaur, See No Stranger My...Advice from the Cards
Seldom is tarot a subject of this blog, but today, as we enter our third month of pandemic, I felt it was time to find out what advice the tarot has for us right now. So I composed questions, opened my intuitive doorway, and let my hand choose cards from within my...An Art Path In a Pandemic
Oh my, here we are. This painting is several years old, but eerily it makes me think of the virus, its stealthy infiltration of our systems and our cities. The last week has been a hard one for me because I have been awash in fear and grief. Not...The Day After
I am posting this blog on the new moon, the day after the midterm elections. We begin two new cycles–lunar and political–yet much has not changed. I found helpful today the wisdom in this poem by Carrie Newcomer so I thought I’d pass it on....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)
