When we live behind a mask, how do we connect and establish trust with one another? Parker Palmer on reclaiming our identity and integrity.
Our weekly wrap-up with poetry and prose, stories of Easter dishes from afar and links to things we're reading in the news and blogging worlds!
As we rush forward into the work week, a poem to slow us down, turn us about, and maybe just maybe, laugh at ourselves. Marie Howe reads her poem "Hurry."
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.