Blog

With so many things happening in the world, in our communities, and in our own lives, it can be hard to focus. Our attention is pulled in different directions. Our hearts are sometimes undone by it all.

I’ve been thinking lately about the ways in which I’ve come to understand the necessity of holding grief lightly. The world and our daily lives are filled with losses. Losses that are personally profound, heartbreaking, wild, and unruly. 

Do you remember returning to elementary school after what seemed like an endless summer. Perhaps your new teacher asked you to write or speak about what you did over the summer months.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about time. About how our culture describes time to us. Language like “I’m pressed for time.” “I need to make time to…” “I’m short on time.” “I ran out of time.” “What a waste of time.” 

If I were to write about what I did last summer, it would be titled something like “Let Go.”  I spent the summer months last year sorting years of flotsam. I thought I had already done this before I moved in 2017 – when I left my home but also helped sell my sister’s house.

Scientifically, a bee hive is a single living organism. Yet, inside the hive, there are hundreds of individuals, all with important “jobs” that help support the overall health of the organism. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the power of listening. About what it means to be listened to – particularly when we are going through changes. About what it means to be a good listener, too.

My first spring in Arizona was filled with natural surprises. Even as I miss a Midwest garden of daffodils, lilac and hydrangeas, I’m startled by the beauty and glory visible in a desert spring.

I recently came across a picture of my parents and me.  We are standing on the front porch of our extended family’s lake cottage. It was taken a year before my father’s death. 

Navigating the Wake of Change: How to Steer Through Life's Turbulent Waters. For a season in my life, I kayaked on a river near my home. I loved being on the water – floating at times with the current or pushing my kayak upstream with my energy.