The limitations of language can be a barrier to deep connection. But the metaphor of unity and interconnectedness found in a sculpture by Jaume Plensa reminds us of the power of art and poetry to traverse this boundary.
Autumn inhabits the stretch in between beginnings and endings — and students dwell in that same space. With the help of Rilke, an educator voices the call to "live everything," "have patience with what is unresolved," and to "love the questions."
A poem for the passing of summer, a song for the shadow, and an invocation for attention.
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.
From small kindnesses to a classic love song reimagined and singleness to transformation, Trent Gilliss poetically curates an intermingling of murmurations and ideas — including a remembrance of the legendary Grace Lee Boggs.
An expression of gratitude for this fine day. A morning murmuration, if you will, for all the things we may take for granted in performing our daily rituals and taking stock of life's simple pleasures.
Politics can divide more often than unite. But, deep involvement in the civic sphere doesn't mean we have to sacrifice empathy and civility.
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.
For the Jewish High Holy Days, two poems by Esther Cohen paired with photography from Matthew Septimus. They offer words that sound like music, and postcards that become visual prayers and emblems of hope.
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.
Suffering can be a backstop for unexpected joy. A lyrical "Rumi"ination on shadow, gratitude, and the light of the stranger.
Generosity and gratitude don't require extraordinary means, just the gift of time and attention. Parker and Wendell on giving yourself away.
Gardening is replete with metaphors for living well. With the help of a May Sarton poem, Parker Palmer builds on a less-obvious metaphor.
For this Tuesday morning, a poem from Dena Simmons that might make you see things differently on your commute to work.
We spill something on ourselves, and then we postpone the inevitable: the cleaning. We often do the same thing with the pain and anger we inevitably experience. Omid and Rumi have something to say about stain-treating our hearts.
With the words of Rumi echoing loudly, Parker Palmer invites us to explore a "field" of sound ideas and right relationship with one another.
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.
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.
The imprint a father leaves on his child remains. Parker remembers his deceased Dad and the values he imparted with a poem.
A Southern woman's searching lament on the hot, boiling silence of Southern grief after the shootings in Charleston — and the inheritance of sorrow.
Thomas Merton and Lao Tzu make compelling cases for flowing around obstacles rather than butting up against them. If we do so, we fight inequities in the world with equanimity and make a life worth living for all.
To trust our children requires allowing them the room to act differently that we might expect. A mother's argument for placing trust in our children's expansive imaginations and empathic potential.
Is there room in our seeking for not-knowing? Are our hearts big enough to hold mystery? A prayer and a meditation for the mystery of the last ten nights of Ramadan.
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.