Ursula LeGuin wrote an amazing book called The Word for World is Forest back in 1972. A friend gave it to me sometime in the 80s and it has haunted me ever since. It’s something of an allegorical tale: humans head off to exploit the fictional planet Athshe—to kill the men, rape the women, and … Continue reading The Changing Dreamscape
I wrote this a year ago at Easter, long before any of us had heard of Corona Virus. During this extraordinary time in our lives and history, I wanted to share this post again. It is my wish that my story of searching for the Divine will give you hope and comfort. Please be sure … Continue reading God of the Starling, God of the Murmuration
Written with my Tuesday group with the prompt: traditions that become oppressive! Long ago, in the pagan cultures of the far north, work and travel were severely limited by cold and snow as days grew shorter. Farmers and their families would remove a wheel from their carts as a sign of surrender to the great … Continue reading Meditation on an Advent Wreath
One day, before our writing practice, most everyone in the writing circle professed ignorance of the modern tradition called “The Elf on the Shelf.” Although I am no expert either, I found myself compelled to write the following. The elf appears mysteriously on a shelf in homes where parents deign to invite him in. “This … Continue reading The Elf on the Ledge (copyright pending)
I wrote this a year ago when my cats were just babies. They’re much more disciplined now—ha! I was sitting on the toilet a half hour ago, getting a clear view of the leather belt I slipped through my denim belt loops this morning, and I noticed it—kitten teeth marks on the end of my … Continue reading Kittens for Christmas
Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, be aware of the grace that surrounds you.
Written with my Tuesday group with the prompts: cornucopia, apples, pies I like to bake but I don’t do it that often. I don’t do it that often because I need to keep my blood sugar low. But I don’t want to write about that. I want to write about my electric mixer. Thirty-something years … Continue reading The Little Hand-Held Electric Mixer Who Could
Knowing she was sad, eleven crows arrived with gifts: delicate feathers chips of quartz and granite, short lengths of red and yellow yarn, crumpled bits of paper all colorful, some shiny with beef tallow others sticky and vanilla-scented. How did they know? she wondered as they littered her winter green lawn with their offerings, creating a mosaic as vibrant as a Van Gogh night … Continue reading Knowing she was sad, eleven crows
The prompt for this one was "nature's tranquilizer." This is where it led. I had one of those nights when I thought I couldn’t sleep, when I thought my mind was turning over and over again a tired thought, a hazy dream, and then I rolled over, mumbling and wondering why I couldn’t rest, and … Continue reading Dia De Los Muertos
At dusk, when the day turns orange, then pink, then purple, spanning the color spectrum in the time it takes to walk home from the park, the ghosts come out. You may see them for only ten or fifteen minutes, in that bright, liminal space before the night turns black and stars wink on like … Continue reading They are Coming
