The twilight season of Advent reveals a quiet source of hope — in the rhythms of the earth and the instinctual embrace of darkness by our animal bodies.
As we turn the seasonal corner to the longest nights of the year, a reflection on the time we spend in the darkness, and what we can learn from it before turning back to the light.
Growth comes from bearing witness to our own stories and to the experiences of others. A digest of reads that challenge us to strengthen our inner and outer lives.
An autumnal poem from Linda Pastan guides Parker Palmer to a realization: that we can become enraptured with the world around us once again, if only we revive our childlike capacity for wonder.
As the days grow shorter and the air grows crisp, Parker Palmer invokes Rainer Maria Rilke on lessons from the season: on having faith when we fall, and trusting in the mysterious resilience of life.
The beauty of spring is as much in its muddiness as in its blooms. An encouragement to revel in the dance of mess and lavishness in this most colorful season.
On a retreat at a cabin in the northern woods of Wisconsin, Parker Palmer strings together pearls of contemplation on silence and solitude. With the help of Merton and Rumi, he finds the catharsis of being forced to reckon with one's angels and demons.
With the visual glories of autumn, the living is hidden within the dying. A pondering about this season of paradox and the "the endless interplay of living and dying" we all must embrace.
The metaphors we use matter. Parker Palmer claims the metaphor of seasons to gently remind us that we're not in charge, that we're not alone, that it's possible to transform and be transformed in this world.
Rilke follows the course of change through seasons and captures the loneliness of uncertainty in everyday life. Includes Joanna Macy's brilliant reading of "Onto a Vast Plain."
A long, prosperous winter is coming to pass. The spring thaw is upon us in Minnesota. And, it feels so necessary. But, it’s not without some remorse, especially when taking in the shocking beauty of Minnehaha Falls captured in such exquisite light. The creek is now assuming its dutiful labor, the water wresting and freeing itself from its dormant state.
A big thanks to Al Gage for capturing this bit of nature!
Winter has already taken root here in Minneapolis, but I haven’t let go of autumn yet. So I just couldn’t resist reblogging a small portion of this wonderful series of autumn photos by Jamie on her From Me to You blog, which she introduced with the caption: “As November slips away the last leaves fall on Central Park West making way for the winter air and snow filled trees…”
Be sure and view Jamie’s complete fall photo series on her site.