February 12, 2019
I have lived a long life in a world too few would recognize now. I reckon, by today’s standards, it was “old fashioned.” Simplistic? We managed to live with an ingrained sense of simplicity, of sufficiency. Our lives defied any particular sort of accumulation.
December 04, 2018
There in the dust and bustle and eventual hush of familiar religious practice, the Old and New Testaments interwove suddenly, quite simply. Between God’s unlikely prophet, and the newborn—the oh, so unlikely One foretold.
June 26, 2018
We all face varying necessities...but we also contend with our desires—the hunger to thrive. The nature of our own ambivalence sends us off on endless searches. And we each, when we’re self-honest, find ourselves in this territory: segueing from wanting what we truly need, to an equivocal choice of “needing” what we badly want.
March 15, 2018
The earth, the whole of it, is our garden. Our cross-thatched Eden, a checkerboard of beauty and clutter and devastation. The fertile fields we work and play upon—and litter with our stash of trash and ravish with our wars. Our squash and our squashing.
November 07, 2017
Who, existentially, is my neighbor, and what does it imply, or not, in my larger life beyond my front porch? Do I owe something more than I have given to this unfathomable, unreasonable world? Do I gain something more than I have wanted, or ever missed?
August 01, 2017
I'm a bit of a perfectionist. I don't think I'm the only one around. Perfectionists want to do everything, umm, perfectly. We expect much of ourselves, and perhaps, others. We want to be activators, integrators, celebrators.
February 01, 2017
It was raining again when I walked out of church—a slow spritz that would invoke a guffaw in the saturated Northeast. But in Southern California it was, Oh yay, rain! I smiled, raised my umbrella, and headed across the street. And I saw him standing there. A robust young man. Facing the church, holding a cardboard "help" sign.