Painting With My Dead Friend
Holly, a dear friend of mine, died last summer. She was a writer and a creative soul in many ways, including artmaking of all kinds. She was an imaginative free spirit who appreciated the unconventional. So her art was usually quirky. Self-taught, she didn’t often...Deep Rest
Still resting in the pause of the sun, the eclipse of the new moon, listening to the stars sing in the dark… What is singing to you now? Where is stillness waiting for you? I’d love to hear. (click on the picture for a sharper view)...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...Hidden Treasures
Wonder is the heaviest element on the periodic table. Even a tiny fleck of it stops time. Diane Ackerman After five days up on the North Shore I’m noticing that words for a blog are hard to find. Lumbering along rocky beaches, comforted and exhilarated by booming...Lesson from a Horse: Part II
Last year at this time I went to a daylong personal growth workshop with horses. In these workshops horses are not ridden; participants touch, lead and observe them. Powerful, gentle and extremely sensitive, horses are excellent mirrors because they attune to what our...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)
