October 6, 2011–I’m not sure why it’s been nearly 6 months since I’ve posted something, anything. My second handwritten journal is full. Snippets of paper and spiral pads on my desk offer data, indicating brain waves at work. Yet, there’s that high jump post from April. It stayed prominent, and…
I wonder what Jesus experienced when he died, and then showed back up, on earth, alive. I wonder about his graciousness in allowing people to recognize him in their own timing. He shows up, again, again, again. I wonder what it is inside of me, and you, that offers us…
My favorite description of contemplation is a “long, loving look at the real.” I heard this first from William McNamara, OCD, a teacher who inspired me to live with intention, purpose, vigor, and passion. National Geographic posted a photograph tip on Facebook tonight: Photo Tip: Adventure photography leads to lots…
Visiting friends on Friday night, the nearly full moon hovered in a pink tinged sky, rising over iced, frozen chunks of the Kenai River, Alaska. In contrast, Saturday night was already shadowless dark as I waited for the Super moon to shine. I gasped when the entire horizon of Kenai…
Some days, sorting marbles sheds light on essential questions. Smooth handfuls of glass slipped firmly against each other in my hands. Water streamed from the kitchen faucet. I washed and rinsed my favorite colors in a stainless steel strainer, playing with texture and light. The marbles had been supporting stalks…
The night before my son died, I opened mail, standing in the kitchen. My boy sat at a round table, watching. Soup heated on the stove. I had worked all day, and needed to attend a class later that evening. He had stayed home from high school, sick with the…
“One Mother’s Dream” –Pegge Bernecker (c) For as long as I can remember, I dreamed of holding a baby. When I was a child she was an infant sized doll. If I could sit still, I was allowed to hold my baby sister, then three years later, my brother. In…
Wilderness is a powerful teacher. In Alaska, the landscape is sturdy. Rugged. Every day a thousand trees remind me to stand still. Trees teach me tenacity. Trees teach me to grow roots, offer support, move without snapping, let go, and to hold onto myself. I live in a log home…
Today amazon.com sent me “The Gulag Archipelago” by Alexander Solzhenitsyn. He’s the man who wrote, “Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either, but right through every human heart, and through all human…
Around ten pm, a few days before Christmas, I sat cross-legged gazing through the burnished glass of a wood stove. Heat rippled toward my face. Flicking flames evoked emotions and memories: a needlepoint Santa stocking for a boy who no longer lives, the ending of a marriage I held precious,…