Parker J. Palmer
Walk straight into your not-knowing. Exercise your heart. Live as variously as possible. In this season of graduations, Parker Palmer offers six suggestions for traversing the savage and beautiful terrain of life.
Trying to answer the existential question of worth is inevitable, but flawed. With words from Czeslaw Milosz as his guide, Parker Palmer on the question we need not answer and the ultimate definition of love.
Parker Palmer examines the guiding principles of care and healing at the center of a physician's practice, and wonders how they might revive the heart of political life.
Facing fear is easier said than done. Parker Palmer on having an empathetic imagination for the inner battles we're all fighting, especially those we can't see.
A helpful word can be a salve, but it's not always what we need. Parker Palmer on the power of quiet, unobtrusive presence to heal in troubled times.
Being part of the human race means embracing the fullness of people's behaviors. Parker Palmer on the demanding path toward wholeness with Rumi, Merton, and other mystics as his escorts.
Wisdom isn't exclusive to folks with more years under their belts. Parker Palmer invites older generations to celebrate the gifts of the young — energy, vision, and hope — and recognize the valuable knowledge contained within in every age.
A story of travel gone bad and the catalyst for generosity, sharing, and making good on circumstances beyond one's control.
The beauty of spring is as much in its muddiness as in its blooms. An encouragement to revel in the dance of mess and lavishness in this most colorful season.
What we need is within us and between us. With Wendell Berry at his side, Parker Palmer on the amazing abundance of self and community, and identifying what each of us has to offer.
The best education is one in which we listen to each other. Parker Palmer tells the story of a New York City cab driver and how he exhibits the many qualities necessary to be a good citizen today.
The greatest threat to American democracy doesn't come from outside but from within. Parker Palmer serves up three traits to look for in a fascist leader — and words and a poem from Abraham Lincoln and W.H. Auden.
An encouragement from our house sage to see what others don't and not be afraid to show others that vision.
To love life in its fullness is the key to wise living. Parker Palmer with a poem on transforming suffering and restoring life.
A brief meditation on the curious concept of the Möbius strip and how it relates to life itself.
Life, like verse, contains beauty, grit, and uncomfortable truth. Inspired by a couplet from Thoreau, our columnist reflects on the journey of life as an artistic, creative craft, in the vein of lyrical composition.
We're trained to demonize and combat those who disagree with us. But what if we cultivated better habits that didn't unravel the fabric of our civic community?
What are the last things you want to cherish? The last things you want to give up? Parker Palmer on treasuring those things that anchor one to the blessings of life.
On a retreat at a cabin in the northern woods of Wisconsin, Parker Palmer strings together pearls of contemplation on silence and solitude. With the help of Merton and Rumi, he finds the catharsis of being forced to reckon with one's angels and demons.
It's when we sit with our silence that the world opens before us, in ways large and small. Parker Palmer reflects on Gunilla Norris' poetic words and the regrounding silence brings.
Each year brings the loss of a life we loved. But what if our grief served as a conduit to community and creating a more thoughtful, interconnected world?
A serendipitous typo inspires our columnist Parker Palmer to come up with a list of five "revolutions" for the New Year, resolutions to counteract grim realities in order to regain our humanity in 2016.
Remembering a passage from the Christmas services of his childhood, Parker Palmer finds counsel for living an honest and genuine life. We must, he says, allow the good words we speak to become incarnate in our actions.
Through the story of the famous Christmas Truce of 1914, a ballad and some thoughts on holding despair and human possibility.