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.
There are those people who know how to get ahead of the train wreck and those folks who are called to their senses after the collision has happened. But, catastrophe, too, can be a contemplative path if you choose to accept it.
As the days grow shorter and the sun sinks lower, for some the internal darkness can become all too real. An Austin-based singer-songwriter shares a song of hope only gained from struggle.
In this Letter from Loring Park, our executive editor lists three compelling reads under five minutes and some of our most popular columns. Enjoy the journey.
External "oughts" and "shoulds" can create impossibly high aspirations — and equally high levels of guilt about falling short. A personal exploration sharing the delicate experience of "befriending" depression and ways of reframing our expectations of self.
Recent events in the life of the world have made it challenging to engage in trust and hope. Parker Palmer turns to another type of knowing that leads to grace.
A father of young children contemplates the messages and the survival skills passed from father to son on how to live with the burdens and the suffering of human life.
A bevy of useful, interesting things to chew on and contemplate. Sure to make your mind sing!
The word "depression" is used to describe a personal condition as well as large-scale economic collapse. Parker Palmer shares a story of personal story of his last encounter with depression and two interviews that talking about depression and economic crisis.
There is a place beyond exhaustion, when asking 'What can I do to help?' is inadequate and burdensome. A commentary on how we can practice the art of generosity, to reach beyond the ease of asking towards the grit of doing.
Our executive editor's weekly missive, including a powerful conversation on suicide and the choice to stay, a healing poem on solidarity and depression, a call to face our ghosts and show courage in the wake of Ferguson, and a moment of unexpected joy.
Thoughtful words on standing in solidarity with others suffering from depression and the healing experience of a poem.
At our darkest hours, when light fails to find a home, a path of buttercups may lead us back. Parker Palmer offers up thoughts and a Willow Harth poem for many of us caught "underground."
A video with Parker Palmer discussing Lincoln's depression and how he sees the 16th U.S. President's ability to reconcile the darkness and lightness within himself as a lesson for us all in healing the heart of democracy.
Watch this TED talk with Andrew Solomon, who breaks the silence we share around depression and asks of us profound empathy for the vitality within the struggle.
Researchers are finding that students who show signs of depression clearly have different patterns of Internet use.
"Music has always been incredibly cathartic for me, whether it's writing my own stuff or singing other people's music; it's very freeing. But it did take me a long while to be able to write again because I was just too far down a deep dark hole to do anything...
A guest contributor uses poetry as a vehicle for processing his faith, doubts and depression during the Advent season.
The vulnerability of revisiting this conversation reminds Krista to embrace "dark times as expressions of human vitality."
One of the most difficult aspects of working at Minnesota Public Radio is that I often don’t get a chance to listen to public radio on the weekdays, especially during working hours. Thanks to a new baby boy, I was actually able to listen to a documentary on Alzheimer’s disease by a colleague and former producer at SOF, Brian Newhouse.
It’s a wonderfully crafted piece that’s full of facts and figures and scientific experts discussing the problems and approaches to treating and curing the disease. But, the part that sang to me, is a follow-up interview with a man in his 40s who describes the way he communicates with his wife now that he is home-bound: