The day after Valentine’s Day one bouquet of roses rises tall on my kitchen counter (the long-stems). The shorter-stems reside on a refrigerator shelf, extending their life (shelf life?) and making me glad everytime I open the refrigerator door.
I propped up my feet wearing socks grabbed from a jumble bin in a thrift store. My socks and I relaxed and listened to the teachings coming in through the closed circuit TV from the ballroom. Afterwards, Bev came over and said, “Let me look at your sushi socks.” Sure enough, there they were…little prints…
That “30th anniversary” picture represents the usual welcome I like to surprise visitors with when they come to town to celebrate a honeymoon or romantic anniversary; the petals are real, and, whenever I can find out secretly in advance what the actual wedding flowers were, I try my best to get that flower and color…
In a workshop on sacred space, I drew a rainbow vortex, holding 4-6 crayons in my hand at a time. I loved that part. Then, looking at my crayon drawing, I wrote this letter to the rainbow vortex. Later I cut the vortex into a spiral and pasted it into my journal, folding in switchbacks…
“Don’t be afraid to put your heart in the palm of your hands and shake the hands of your fellow human beings.” –Daniel Holland
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, Whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break. (Shakespeare, Macbeth, 5.1.50-1)
Kathleen Norris (Photo by Gregory Yamamoto from the Barclay Agency) Telling a poet not to look for connections is like telling a farmer not to look at the rain gauge after a storm. –page 171, “Dakota: A Spiritual Geography,” by Kathleen Norris (my lineation for emphasis) Click here to read a marvelous interview between Homiletics…