Inspired by a beautiful hike in the Swiss mountains, Omid Safi with a meditation on the jaggedness of our hearts' stones, then and now. And some photos to illustrate it.
After a teacher stays on in Poland after a five-day bearing witness retreat at Auschwitz-Birkenau, she offers a peripatetic meditation on beauty, suffering, and our capacity to comprehend what is incomprehensible.
Beloved Irish poet John O'Donohue on beauty's true grit, and finding it in the transformational edges of our daily lives.
Our capacity to understand the planet is limited by our perception. With the help of Earth-imaging satellites, Andrew Zolli charts the new vistas of our awareness and finds a renewed ability to see the world whole.
In the dissonant landscape of central Jersey, a writer reaches for the pristine beauty of Merton's Gethsemani and finds instead beauty in asphalt and fluorescence in her backyard.
Untamed, wild beauty kindles a yearning and an awe that few man-made structures can, even the most sacred churches, mosques, or temples. Our resident bard with a praise song for the wide open spaces that beckon us to open our hearts to all people and things before us.
A requiem for the holiness that's visible — in the trees, the mountains, and the rivers. Permission to lean into wonder and to linger in beauty incarnate.
Sometimes we lose sight of the the beauty and connectedness of all things. Missing her shot of a Santa Fe rainbow, Sharon Salzberg invites us to find the beauty of paradox and the changing role of presence and impermanence in all things.
Scientists say there is no such thing as an objective observer. One poet celebrates the participatory, interactive, relational aspects of reality with poetry inspired by John Keats.
Spirit intersects matter everywhere. A poet living in Chesapeake Bay meditates on the sacredness of location and the sense of place reinstated after returning to her childhood landscape.
Feces can be a powerful thing, but not in the way that you might gather. Before becoming a father, Omid Safi thought love was something you feel or experience, the everyday ritual of changing his daughter's diaper taught him about a love that's stronger than shit.
With an unexpected, unfolding kinship with her horse, a yoga instructor finds a path to revealing — and healing — old wounds. An arresting essay on the wondrous beauty of relationship.
With Gerard Manley Hopkins as his guide, Parker reflects on the sacredness and beauty of life and difference.
A small-town Quaker meeting inspires a meditation on the collective human silence, and the communion that brings points of orientation in a disorienting world.
Morsels to savor — all in one digest — on wonder and beauty, brokenness and healing, musicals and parenting. Get caught up in a few minutes!
How do we celebrate our diminishment as we age? We look for beauty in "that which the world rejects as ugly."
There are people holding out on the toughest frontiers of existence, surrounded by misery, yet sustained by beauty. A thoughtful essay that meditates on the question: How can we be more alive to the presence of beauty and transcend conflict?
Our executive editor's weekly missive: a season of autumn invitations, a thoughtful essay on male friendship, confessions of an accidental feminist, a joyful contemplation on being Mormon in the modern world, and an unexpected moment of generosity.
How many of us are ready to step into the gaze of someone — including ourselves — who sees us as we really are?
Autumn reminds our Quaker columnist about the beauty of the Earth and the death that is to come. Through the words of Rilke, an exploration of the wellspring of gratitude.
With the recent news about the universe's origins, why are we struck dumb with awe and the nature of magnificence? A guest commentary on our deepest impulses.
A stunning full moon cradles a highline walker at Cathedral Peak. Bliss, beauty, and exhilaration at once.
A powerful commentary from Ashley Judd that lets no one off the hook and reminds us that we're all culpable of this type of thinking.
My last two years in Brooklyn I felt fortunate to have the view I did. My windows faced east, and, although the blank wall of another building loomed large directly in front, to the right grew a luscious tree and above was an unobstructed view of sky. I often woke at dawn and would stand on the fire escape and soak in the morning, while it still felt clear and clean.