One: Spirit of Guiding Love, we give thanks today for all of the people who followed a dream, and whose vision, persistence, labor, and commitment have given us the gift of this labyrinth. All: Bless this labyrinth and all who use it....

Here is where I found my voice and chose to be brave. Here’s a place where I forgave someone, against my better judgment, and I survived that, and unexpectedly, amazingly, I became wiser. Here’s where I was once forgiven, was ready for once in my life to receive forgiveness and to be...

Prayer of Thanks for Hoes & Scythes & Spatulas & Toothbrushes & Binoculars & the Myriad Other Tools & Instruments That Fit Our Hands So Gracefully & Allow Us to Work with a Semblance of Deftitude Lovely little inventions, just right for the job at hand—a lawn edger, for example, or an arrow, or...

The word desire comes from the Latin desiderare: “to long for,” but the Latin desiderare comes from de sidere: “from the stars.” From the stars. I find this extraordinary: to think that somehow our desire, our longing, is connected to the very stars in the sky. The stars, which share their...

The religious mystics of every tradition tell us union is what we are here for — union is what we are: we are connected to each other, to the earth, to everything that exists, and to the force that lies beyond it all—only most of the time we don’t realize it. Union is not a myth or a pipe...

Inexplicable. How we rise each morning, instead of burying our heads under bedcovers, sewing them shut. Why we keep on welcoming babies with bone-deep joy to this sordid world. How we fill burlap sacks with grit and gratitude, our hands shredded as we drag one over the other....

From night into day, From chill into warmth, From sleep into awakening, We open our hearts to the wonder of life, Born again.

Early in the morning, before the children are awake and while the grass is still dewy, I like to walk in my garden. It’s “my” garden only because it shares the same small plot of land my family and I inhabit. The garden does not really belong to me; I belong to it—at least for the short time...

What do you do with the secret verses of your heart? With your need for redemption, the story without words? With paradoxical truths, too private and nuanced to share, that cannot be printed or spoken aloud? You weave their energy into a poem, carefully, carefully, over and under and through,...

They say a story can carry a truth far greater than the literal truth. We Unitarians* know the value of stories. We know they carry truth. We know they carry more truth than just the plain truth ever can. Maybe we can’t believe a virgin gave birth to the son of God: but we can believe that all...

“God is not a Christian, God is not a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist..."

For the wonder and inspiration We seek from sun and stars And all the lights of the heavens We light this chalice.

Chalice Lighting #434 in Singing the Living Tradition: May we be reminded here of our highest aspirations, and inspired to bring our gifts of love and service to the altar of humanity....

Night has its own kind of beauty, different than the beauty of day. Night is a time of sleep and dreams and inward visions, A time of pause within activity. Darkness is an invitation to imagining and storytelling, And to using ears instead of eyes to listen to the world in its stillness....