Window Thinking
Recently I ran across a digital scrap in my computer that is now bouncing around my brain – something I jotted down last August, simply: “Who tells the story? How we tell the story shapes the meaning.” As illustrated by the weekend controversy over the red capped white boys + native elder on the steps …
How does one live when melty mud and shades of grey paint across the view?
A chance encounter at the library reminds me stories matter.
Some days do not offer an obvious sentence with a good photo. The curbside recycling truck did not come today and I don’t know why. I hope that meeting will turn up the puzzle piece I’ve been looking for. For everything there is a season, but what thing was that season for? How big was …
I believe that people laugh at coincidence as a way of relegating it to the realm of the absurd and of therefore not having to take seriously the possibility that there is a lot more going on in our lives than we either know or care to know. – Frederick Buechner Today I was sorting through digital …
Lace up the skates and cue my courage – I wish I’d learned when I was young!
Tonight I saw a super blood wolf moon eclipse, and thus sings my soul.
….the path to a life of meaning and significance isn’t to “live in the present” as so many spiritual gurus have advised. It is to integrate our perspectives on time into a coherent whole, one that helps us comprehend who we are and why we’re here. I was inspired to read When: The Scientific Secrets …
My father, Fraser, taught me to work har, laugh often, and keep my word. My mother, Marian, showed me how to think for myself and to use my voice. Together, in our cramped apartment on the South Side of Chicago, they helped me see the value in our story, in my story, in the larger …
The trees are all dressed in rime ice coats and it is glory to behold.
This furry yellow smile is my sun on this ice-cold, foggy Friday.
What a gift she gave us – poetry generous, grounded, plain, and true.
I was excused from the jury box today and won’t have to decide.
Wherever you are tonight – may you find comfort, care, and shelter there.
“….haiku as a contemplative practice….that is, to prepare yourself to be touched by beauty….” John Paul Lederach When I’m out walking, I sometimes think about John Paul Lederach’s description of haiku as the finger-tapping choreography of life: It combines the beginner’s mind — what we might call joy, with ancient wisdom — what we might call patience. How do …
Sometimes you can’t know the choice is a fork and you won’t ever come back.
Day after day, year after year, I walk these paths and watch for the beauty.
Your fate is not yet sealed. Even in the darkest night, a star will shine, a bell will chime, a path will be revealed. I have mixed feelings about this middle grade fiction, but overall, I thought it worked okay. It is a story with distinct parts, I would have liked more of some and …
Silent film night at the theatre where music carries the story.
I pull on layer after layer, but she always wears the same coat.
A bundled up run in some rare bluebird sun helps me to remember.
Tonight on my walk I remembered when this was my living room view.
If you are looking for him, he’s probably by the fire reading.
We are good walking pals – I stop for pictures, she stops for yellow snow.