But we have music
When I saw Laurie Doctor’s poem in two alphabets yesterday, it reminded me of what emerged at choir this week. Laurie is a gifted calligrapher, painter,…
There is a field, and I’ll meet you there
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, There is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, The world is…
Blessing for the path
I didn’t know, when I went to Ireland, that my primary reason for going was to visit John O’Donohue’s grave. Who could know such a thing?…
The sky above my mother’s house
If healing means to make whole, as Michael Meade claims, then what part of me is missing? I have a hole in my chest a mile…
What kind of stories do we need right now?
Carrie Snyder offers an invitation: Find a sunflower. Hold it in your hands. Ask it a question. Listen to the questions it asks you. Carrie’s sunflower…
My Christmas prayer
In my last post I shared my deep resonance with Michael Leunig’s prayer. Today, it being Christmas morning with its promise of birth, I find myself…
My most difficult child
One of the most welcome parts of my everyday is Robyn Gordon’s beautifully curated posts. Robyn is a South African artist with a gift for finding…
Ogham treasure in Athlone’s Bastion Gallery
The same way triple spirals pulled me to a locked gallery door, a mysterious force drew me inside the Bastion Gallery in Athlone. Just like the…
Guided along a spiral path
Our Saturday in Dublin dawned without a hint of the magic about to unfold. LW and I made coffee, ate our Dunnes store breakfast of bread,…
Triple spirals: Magical, simple, complex
Chris and I loped up the hill toward the burial mound along with forty or fifty other tourists – T’s, as we referred to them, laughing…