The most life-giving coping strategy—for me—is to attune to a voice calmer and wiser than mine, and allow that seeking to be its own expression of faith.

Sometimes, I know I'm hanging onto a part of my life that I'll eventually need to let go of...but not just yet.

I take care of myself first, because I am deserving of exquisite care. I take care of myself to maintain the capacity to help others. I move and stretch my body every day. I spend time in nature, attuning my senses to the earth's wisdom. I ration my daily exposure to the news....

As we move deeper into the season, There are some things we know. Fall brings a growing darkness That we cannot escape. The nights become cooler And take on winter’s chill. The leaves on the trees and blades of grass Try on new suits of yellow, orange, red and brown....

One of my most treasured New Year’s traditions is coming up with a word for the year: a single word that I want to be the theme for my entire year. When I’m questioning what’s the right thing to do, I will look to my word of the year for guidance.

Sometimes grief sends notice ahead of time; sometimes, it shows up as an unwelcome, uninvited guest.

The work of forgiveness is so challenging—the actual work of it. The naming, grieving, empathizing, releasing. It’s like a death. A death of what we wanted, what we expected, what we’d hoped for, what we deserved and didn’t receive….We don’t get to control other people or outcomes. I am...

It was my inadvertent letting go that made this wild, interdependent beauty possible. And at that very moment, I knew I didn’t need that sort of control anymore.

When I internalize cultural messages about the definitions of success or failure—or anything, really—I undermine my own sense of self-worth.

Outside of the meditation hall, we plan for the future and think of the past. But so often we replay past regrets and worry about future events to the point where we’re no longer present in the present.

And so I bury my cauldron today I fill it full of salt and place it in the warm earth. Cradle it Persephone! Hold and rock and heal this womb. Take my woes and transform them. I was supposed to be this perfect gateway, and hold the balance of life and death. Well I held life, for a brief moment.

This has been published with "they/their" pronouns; please use the most fitting pronoun in your setting. Claimed by death, we remember [Name]'s life Blessings for a life well lived Blessings for their peaceful departure Blessings for their shared friendships Blessings for their humor and wisdom...

Once I quit drinking, my inner voice and I began the harder work: that of creating a life from which I do not need or want to escape.

shadows of clouds / hurrying to some reunion

"We can change. People say we can’t, but we do when the stakes or the pain is high enough. And when we do, life can change."...

God is not a distant force, far away. God is in the beating of our hearts and the backbeat of a funky baseline. God is in a four-on-the-floor drum fill, and in the achy joints and sore muscles the day after.

On my worst days, it is gravity I am most grateful for: the way the earth pulls at me from her core, yearns for me, keeps me pressed tightly against her surface. When my own core is hollowed out, when I have no more mass than a leaf dead on the branch, still this is enough for the earth to find me.

Be it real or metaphor, whatever is in your backpack, or your briefcase, or your purse that you’ve brought into this sanctuary that is weighing you down: leave it behind. Whatever you are carrying that is keeping you distracted, or caught up in shame, or guilt, or hopelessness: leave it behind....

We call forth the life of our faith by igniting our chalice. This spark of new beginnings invites us into a sacred space to reflect where we have been and where we are going. Even knowing that this particular flame will intentionally end with our ritual extinguishing, we fear not its end… For we...

“Now,” the yoga instructor said, “begin to chant GOD GOD GOD as you vigorously circle your arms.” Oh boy, I thought, Here we go. Of course it couldn’t just be arm circles.