A Year of Being Here

Pray to whomever you kneel down to: Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross, his suffering face bent to kis...

And what if I spoke of despair—who doesn’t feel it? Who doesn’t know the way it seizes, leaving us limp, deafened...

If this were the last day of my life, I wouldn't complain about the shower curtain rod in the wrong place, even though it's d...

everything here seems to need us… —Rilke I can hardly imagine it as I walk to the lighthouse, feeling the ancient prayer of my arms s...

I'd never seen a rainbow or picked a tomato off the vine. Never walked in an orchard or a forest. The only tree I knew ...

What if you knew you'd be the last to touch someone? If you were taking tickets, for example, at the theater, tearing them, giving ...

to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you've held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hand...