Today is ten years since my mother’s death, and the haunting is sweet. She is gathered into me like Jacob was gathered into his people. The ancestors are in us. We are ancestors too. What traits and traumas, what hope or despair, openness of heart or resilience of spirit, will be gathered from us into those who come after?
Read moreSea of Tears
The truth is I no longer even know what I’m crying about. At this point, I seem just to be yielding to the big blur of suffering.
Read moreThis Night of Truce
On this first night of truce, a prayer for more and more.
Read morePrenant Parti ("Taking Sides" – French translation)
John Molineux’s French translation of “Taking Sides.”
Read moreRely on Compassion
I am walking around afraid. Not always afraid of something specific. My body is fueled by adrenaline and programmed by the epigenetics of generations of ancestors whose fear responses enabled their survival and mine. My soul has fluttered right out of my body. Is there any solid place where it can land?
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