With the wisdom of Jane Kenyon, a contemplation on gratitude and ordinary grace in our own finite lives.
A brush with that fleeting, transcendent gratitude that only comes when we stand on the edge of losing what we treasure most.
Encouragement from the far shore of life to live fully into the miracle of our existence, with purpose and awe at every waking moment.
Paul Muldoon pauses in a suspended moment, away from the chaos of the world, alone with the soothing roar of rain.
An affirmation of presence, a victory of joy, a connection maintained: these are the things a young mother observes in her elderly next door neighbors, as a husband gently tends to his wife in her final days. A beautiful account of what love truly looks like.
We're officially back into the full swing of production! Amidst the flurry of exciting work, we're grateful for the chance to reflect on the centering power of daily ritual, facing mortality with hope, and defining our lives by the quality of our actions.
To be confronted with a serious illness is to be confronted with a fear of death for most of us. How do we balance hope with realism? And how do we age with grace? Drawing on Atul Gawande's book, Mary Jo Bennett highlights some ways our culture is evolving in its relationship with death.
From spectacular images of Holi to supporting an artist that's meant so much to us, this week's capsule shares some of our best work — and those of others.
We are told to embrace the fact that death is part of life. Embracing emotional honesty, Parker Palmer shakes his salty fist at fate's inevitable hand with a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
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.
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.
As you read this poem, Parker Palmer asks us to ponder a simple question: "How, then, shall I live?"
"I'm not unhappy about becoming old. I'm not unhappy about what must be. It makes me cry only when I see my friends go before me and life is emptied. I don't believe in an afterlife, but I still fully expect to see my brother again. And it's like a dream life. But, you know, there's something I'm finding out as I'm aging that I am in love with the world."
A story of learning and friendship and circles of learning in which each person is a teacher — of learning how to live with death and learning how to live.