The highly acclaimed and beloved poet Mary Oliver reads her four-part poem, "The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac," — a poem in which she explores death, purpose, and the call to live after being diagnosed with lung cancer several years ago.
In a somber week, Omid Safi offers a powerful reminder to remember the humanity at stake in world news, Reza Aslan provides needed context, Parker Palmer reflects on the illuminating power of Thomas Merton's words, a writer muses on our discomfort with death, and Courtney Martin pens a love letter to the shared silences that join us together.
Have our funeral rituals disengaged us from the embodied act of physically burying the dead? A grandson on the our discomfort about death — and we can reconnect with the lives we lost.
A tribute to the children and adults who died in the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School honored with a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye. A list we must return to and remember out of love and hope for a safer world.
From a virtuosic performance to an audio selfie and poems on abundance, a feast of ideas and passages for you to take into your week.
Atul Gawande's new book on the aging and the dying process inspires this column on turning bearing witness to our own instincts and doing things a different way.
Sometimes a song can help us through the darkest hours of our lives. Reflecting upon the loss of her father, Jen Raffensperger shares Josh Ritter's "Lantern" as her greatest musical moment for the Your Audio Selfie project.
Our executive editor's weekly post on all things curious and aspiring — on topics from leading a less busy life to seeking rootedness and a cancer patient's call to her senses.
Dispatches from PopTech, a magnificent essay on Bach, an invitation to find the autobiography of your voice, a meditation on the splendor of Autumn, and an instructive essay on shedding old mindsets.
As the chlorophyll fades and the splendor of fall emerges, a meditation on color, mortality, and divine presence — complemented with the poetry of Rumi and Farid un-Din Attar.
Our executive editor rounds up things seen and unseen — from poetry and trees to anger and rhythm.
In a society uncomfortable discussing death, a new museum in Brooklyn is taking up the charge. Barbara Becker offers her perspective on the exhibition, "The Art of Mourning."
A daughter shares this meditation on the grief and the loss that comes slowly from losing her mother to Alzheimer's disease. Through the story of Gethsemane, she finds an uncomfortable solace and a quiet rebuke for falling asleep while waiting.
As you read this poem, Parker Palmer asks us to ponder a simple question: "How, then, shall I live?"
The best of the week — including an invitation to communal song, forest music from Schumann, words of gratitude and grace from Mary Oliver, and the manifold gifts of a storyteller.
Our executive editor's weekly roundup of all things beautiful and intriguing. This week, an esoteric essay on the Antarctic, magical photography from Iran, and an engaging narrative on the process of dying in India.
Parker Palmer encourages us to look with child-like imagination to better understand the world's mysteries.
A thoughtful meditation by a craftsman-philosopher who contemplates the human condition through the building of simple, hand-tooled coffins.
Watch Stephen Colbert's moving tribute to his mother, offering insights into his mother's Roman Catholic faith and her deeply held values of gratitude, family, and fun.
A recap of our favorite bits of curiosity from this week, including epistolary correspondence, Krista re-entering the Twitter fray, and a revival post. And a whole lot more!
When one's pen goes silent for three years, what's the first line to come out. Christian Wiman tell us. Listen to his beautiful reading of "Every Riven Thing" too.
On this Mother's Day, in some odd way, I can think of no more fitting tribute than to listen to Ms. Boorstein reciting these lovely lines from Pablo Neruda.
A poem about friendship and intimacy, waiting and being present in the moment that is heartbreaking and heartening in its song.
Bedridden with an incurable illness, writer Paul Martin on navigating paths of pain and difficulty, and the depth and mystery of joy.