Blog Posts
Going Under
June 11th, 2022
Janice O’Mahony is a Whidbey Island poet and author. She and I often write together, mostly poetry. We’ve discovered that The Muse shows up more reliably for the two of us than for just one. A few weeks ago we decided to write about our daily to-do lists. The results[...]
From Behind My Operculum
December 12th, 2021
Rest dear friends. Embrace your tired body. Love one another in this hard time. from "Songs for the Shadows" Lydia Wylie-Kellermann, Editor, Geez Magazine A writer is supposed to write. I have not been writing much. An author is supposed to be publishing. I've had only one poem published this year. Not any books. A[...]
Neither Snow nor Rain nor Heat nor Gloom of Night
June 28th, 2021
Once in a while there are small news items about bizarre highway accidents involving trucks. The ones that pique my imagination might describe a sorghum molasses tanker that crashes into a center guard rail on a freeway, and molasses leaks all over the pavement. The next truck, a grain hauler,[...]
SHRDLU
March 31st, 2021
What on earth does THAT word mean? It's not an acronym. It is sort of a neologism, though it's hardly new, and has already pretty much disappeared from our language, leaving barely a whisper behind. Shrdlu is the second half (my favorite half) of the nonsense phrase etaoin shrdlu which comprises the[...]
A New Year
March 5th, 2021
On February 29, 2020, a Washington citizen became the first in the United States to die of Covid-19. Twenty-twenty was a "leap year." Twenty-twenty-one is not, yet it has "leaped" over that important date. There is no February 29 this year to mark the ominous anniversary of what would stretch into twelve[...]
MALAPROP
December 5th, 2020
Last month's blog post played with oxymorons. This month I've moved on to malaprops! A few weeks ago Governor Jay Inslee held a press conference at which he explained more stringent pandemic guidelines for Washington. I am proud of our newly-reelected governor - he's thoughtful, strong, articulate. But of his entire 20[...]
Thoughts for an Oxymoronic Time
October 30th, 2020
In my third grade class our teacher, Mrs. Cole, assigned a project: we were to create one or two finger puppets, write a few lines of dialogue for them, and each present a short "play" for the class. I made two "potato head" puppets, one a "student" and one a[...]
Butterfly Soup
September 25th, 2020
Did you think this would be a children's illustrated story of an orange-and-black winged creature, perhaps wearing a little apron, stirring a pot of chowder? No, this is not that tale. Did you imagine six delicate legs, and a spiral proboscis touching lightly on the surface of a sweet creamy bisque?[...]
A Tale of Hope
July 26th, 2020
Once upon a time there was a little girl who was afraid of almost everything: bugs that flew, caterpillars that crawled, lightning that flashed, winds that blew, dogs that barked, rumors of robbers, sirens that screamed in the night, vegetables that looked unfamiliar, people that spoke with difficult accents. In tears[...]
An Amendment with a Catch
June 29th, 2020
Did you ever wonder about where our one-hundred billion dollar prison industry had its beginnings, and why it so disproportionally confines people of color? For starters, look no further than the Thirteenth Amendment to The Constitution of the United States. Go ahead. Look it up on Google. Read the whole Amendment. I'll[...]
In Praise of Anchorites
May 25th, 2020
The coronavirus pandemic has sent journalists, medical personnel, and politicians scrambling to their thesauruses (thesauri?) for synonyms often found in monastic lexicons. We've been advised to remain "sequestered," "isolated," "withdrawn," "secluded," "disengaged," and even "cloistered." It's the phrase "locked down" that reminds me of the monastics of the Middle Ages who[...]
Little Wonderings
April 28th, 2020
"Hmm..." was the clue for 6-Across in a recent L.A. Times Sunday crossword puzzle. 6-Across had seven squares, so I filled in "IWONDER." Which sent me down a rabbit hole of several things I've been wondering about lately, in this time of pandemic and quarantine. I wonder if the companies[...]
"Statues"
March 25th, 2020
"Statues" was a game we kids played during recess on the playground. One kid (usually a girl, a bossy "Lucy" type) got to control the action; the rest of us would dance and whirl and act crazy until she shouted "Freeze!" and we'd all stop in mid-action. Whoever wobbled first[...]
An Emotion in Search of a Name
March 1st, 2020
A stoic does not express emotion. A stoic family is mostly expressionless. I was reared in a stoic household: Germanic (on Mom's side - she referred back only as far as "Pennsylvania Dutch," because she liked their folk art) and Welsh (on Dad's side - traced back to the 15th century[...]
A Most Memorable Meal
January 31st, 2020
Last week I had one of the most memorable meals of my life. Out of curiosity I've searched back through my memory files, and found just a few other such memorable repasts: - A wiener roast on the top of a high snow-covered dune (we called it "Mt. Everest") on the southern[...]
Immersed in the Darkness
December 26th, 2019
This month, when acquaintances and clerks and baristas asked, "Are you doing anything special for the holidays?" I replied, "I'm doing nothing." If they assumed that that was a sad, or lonesome, or irreligious state, I might add, "I love being in the dark time of year, and I don't[...]
Yak Slobber, and a Nasty Cat
November 30th, 2019
Last week my son Michael came to Whidbey Island for a weeklong visit. It was the first extended just-you-and-me time we'd had in years, and we determined to make the most of it. One of the highlights of our time together had us laughing so hard for so long that[...]
A Poet's Field Notes from the Interior
October 29th, 2019
A month ago I went away for a week to do nothing but write poetry. I went prepared, taking with me my poetry "sketchbooks" (ideas for new poems), and potential poetry drafts that I hadn't nurtured in years, and a few pretty good poems that just needed their "final" polish (note:[...]
September Noticings
September 27th, 2019
PLEASE COME ALONG WITH ME on a stroll through this past month, and encounter with me some of what I've noticed: • Three new houses are under construction on the short cul de sac on which I live. I watched as the lots were surveyed and marked, and the land was[...]
Thinking Outside the Retirement Box
August 26th, 2019
Recently I read these numbers in an article in "The Week" magazine: CNBC reports that a day on Princess Cruises costs about $135. A day in a private room of a nursing home costs $253. When you compare the monthly costs, Princess Cruises adds up to about $4,200, and the private[...]
“Give Me That (Very) Old Time Religion”
July 24th, 2019
Twenty-five years ago I was working as a nationally certified hospital chaplain. The work I treasured most was time I spent with dying people, and I wanted to apply for a regional chaplaincy position with Hospice – which required a masters degree that I didn’t have. My husband of 33[...]
The Joy of Speaking Poetry
June 29th, 2019
"Mortal Beings," my first book of poetry, is now well and truly launched into the world. And I’m even more in love with it than I was when it was first accepted for publication. The launch celebration was held at Enso House, our island’s end-of-life care residence for people with terminal[...]
Keep The Change
May 27th, 2019
At age twenty-two I was a young mother juggling three babes under four years old. One particularly chaotic morning I decided that I should design for myself a coat of arms; the motto on its banner would declare “ADAPTABILITY!” No; better yet, I found the Latin equivalent: “ACCOMMODARE!” It became[...]
JURISPRUDENCE
April 29th, 2019
My Jury Duty Summons directed me to call the jury information message line after 5:30PM on Monday, April 15, to see if there was a trial scheduled for that week. But when I called the number at 5:45, the recorded message was for potential jurors scheduled to call in on[...]
A Writer, Being Written
March 30th, 2019
Last Sunday I was asked to give a talk at our local Unitarian Universalist Church. The title was, “A Writer, Being Written.” This was the first time I’d spoken in public about my relationship with the holy Wisdom that I’ve searched for and (mostly) welcomed since I was a child. When this[...]
Walkin’ It Back
February 23rd, 2019
A new phrase has cropped up in journalism. More and more often, in just the last six months or so, I’m seeing the phrase to “walk back,” referring to a comment or opinion. Have you noticed it? This or that politician makes a statement that they may not have thought through[...]
Asking for a Favor
January 26th, 2019
Mortal Beings, a new collection of my poetry, is being published this May by Finishing Line Press of Georgetown, KY. Not surprisingly, the favor I’d like to ask is that you purchase a copy or two. And the favor is even more than that – I’m asking that you PRE-purchase copies before March[...]
Middle Name
December 26th, 2018
Photo by thost It’s Christmas Time, late December, when capitalists celebrate Consumerism, Pagans celebrate Winter Solstice, and Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus. During Christmas Time I sometimes remember the day I was out shopping with my three small children in tow. They overheard another shopper swear, “Jesus H. Christ!”, and[...]
Blessings Books
November 27th, 2018
[photo by Comfreak] Many Octobers ago, I said to myself, “This is as good a time as any.” I pulled out a 5x8 blank book that was stashed among my office supplies, and began “My Book of Blessings.” The first blessing I wrote was “For Christina's suggestion that I record a[...]
When a Friend Dies
October 27th, 2018
OVER MY LIFETIME I’ve had many opportunities to learn about grief. I’ve lost a lot of close family members: one brother, four grandparents, one son, two uncles, two parents and a mother-in-law, one husband. When a family member dies, there are all those departure-from-life tasks to be attended to, most immediately[...]
Take Care
September 22nd, 2018
On her way out my front door my friend turned back and said, “Take care.” I use that phrase all the time. Sometimes it is a caution, meaning be careful, drive safely, don’t do anything foolish. Sometimes it is a wish, may things go well for you. Sometimes it means be good to yourself. Often[...]
Why Memories?
August 27th, 2018
I have been sorting through memorabilia. Again. Still. Five generations worth of photos, newspaper clippings, report cards, dance cards, grade school art, certificates, ticket stubs, merit badge cards . . . you know - memorabilia. This week I found a large black-and-white photo of my brother, Jay, tall and handsome. He looks to be[...]
On Solo Retreats and Opercula
July 28th, 2018
It seems that my May blog post on “stillness, silence, and solitude” struck a vibrant chord with readers. I’ve heard from several folks yearning to “go on retreat,” but then wondering how one prepares to “do” a retreat? One SOS email came from a woman wanting to bail out of a[...]
My Avian “Jewelry Boxes”
June 24th, 2018
My favorite chair is one next to the large window overlooking a dozen flower pots and three bird feeders. At least twenty different species visit those feeders, and I love getting to know them and learning their behaviors. I want to know the names of all my avian visitors. (I think[...]
Three Words
May 27th, 2018
In emails from friends, in blog posts, in discussions over tea, more and more often lately I’m noticing certain words: Stillness Silence Solitude In poetry and books of prose, in conversations at the grocery store, in magazines, there they are again: Stillness Silence Solitude Is it just that I happen to notice these particular words? Is it because[...]
Gold Medal for Meeting in the Margins
April 23rd, 2018
Four years ago when I first began this blog column, it was with reluctance, and solely for the purpose of promoting my not-yet published book, Meeting in the Margins: An Invitation to Encounter Society’s Invisible People. It was one of those things, like ”having a Facebook presence” and hiring a[...]
Body and Soul
March 29th, 2018
In last month’s post I described sitting in a sixth-floor hotel room watching the construction of a building in downtown Seattle. Three weeks later, I study that same building, but from a different angle. This time I observe from a bed on the fifteenth floor of Seattle’s Virginia Mason Hospital. My[...]
Work-Watching
February 27th, 2018
In a cozy room on the sixth floor of a Capital Hill hotel in Seattle, I’m seated at the window watching snow and traffic and bundled pedestrians. Tomorrow morning I’ll be speaking at the Search For Meaning conference at Seattle University. But now I’m focused on what’s outside my window. I’m[...]
Mortality's Positives, Problems, and Philosophies
January 24th, 2018
This week a little brown bird crashed into the window where I sit and write. He broke his neck and died instantly. I laid his body under a tangled mat of evergreen phlox in the front garden, and I thought, “There it is again: memento mori - remember death.” And[...]
Appreciating Life
December 26th, 2017
[Please see a brief self-promotional save-the-date announcement at the end of this post] [dropcapMedium]I[/dropcapMedium]n last month’s post I addressed a question that arose in a cancer support circle: How is it possible to sustain the feeling of every moment being precious when one is not “actively” dying? Pondering the last part of[...]
"Memento Mori"
November 28th, 2017
My friend Susanne facilitates a circle of women, each of whom has experienced a cancer in her body. Last week Susanne read to them a poem I’d written recently, and it sparked the day’s conversation: how is it possible to sustain the feeling of every moment being precious when one[...]
The Rewards of Fantasy
October 25th, 2017
After hosting a series of short-term renters and Airbnb guests over the past few years, Katherine, an old friend, has come to be my new housemate. She plans to stay for a long while. We have many things in common, not least of which is an addiction to books. It has[...]
Reaching Across a Mountain Range
October 1st, 2017
Somewhere near the corn-on-the-cob display in our local grocery store I heard a snippet of conversation. The speaker was bemoaning the murky skies that were ruining our record-breaking string of sunny days here on the western side of the Cascade Mountains. Just past the mushrooms and sweet peppers I greeted an[...]
Gastropods
August 25th, 2017
Snails have been on my mind a lot lately. In fact, “snail” is probably a good metaphor FOR my mind lately: spirally and slow and withdrawn. Last month I wrote a poem, using the snail metaphor, that was accepted for publication in a literary journal called “Snapdragon” for their September issue. I[...]
Ocean Dance, Mountain Song
July 27th, 2017
Some twenty years ago I regularly participated in the Dances of Universal Peace as a communal spiritual practice. Dancing and chanting The Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic was my very favorite experience, but that full chant, with phrases repeated dozens of times in the original language of Jesus, took nearly three[...]
Wordplay
June 26th, 2017
One reason I’m a writer is that words fascinate me. Better than that, they amuse me, like shiny shapes swirling from a mobile over my playpen. An intriguing unfamiliar word tweaks my ear or flashes across my retinas, and I think, Ooh, listen! Look at that! I wonder what that means?[...]
Stagestruck
May 16th, 2017
Sometime in 2012, a few women who have since dubbed themselves Seriously Fun Productions, headed by Diana Lindsay, realized they wanted to learn more about the local women they met in coffee shops, at workshops, at the gym, or choosing vegetables at the local farmers’ market. And how about the[...]
Poetry on my Mind
March 21st, 2017
Photo by rolandmey Poetry is much on my mind these days. It is my intention to complete a book-length manuscript of my poems, and to have found a publisher for the book by year's end. I'm deep into the processes of polishing and organizing 70+ poems, and of researching potential publishers. So, as I[...]
Coloring Inside the Lines
February 24th, 2017
It is just a tiny memory, the flicker of an unexpected something seen from the corner of my mind’s eye – a bluish-purple line on a white paper background – and suddenly there is a rush of remembering one of my favorite parts of being in first grade. The line of color[...]
The Gentle Sport
January 25th, 2017
There is so much serious stuff going on in our world. So painfully much. You probably know the global stories far better than I, since I haven't watched TV or listened to the radio for over 20 years. The political issues here in the USofA are being described to me daily, and[...]
What is Ours to Do?
December 24th, 2016
WHAT is ours to do? Only time will tell what the results of our November election mean to us. But one thing I'm sure it means: Helen Price Johnson, a local politician that I admire and respect, will be serving her third four-year term as one of our three Island County[...]
Six Things I Don't "Do"
November 27th, 2016
Where I live, on a large island floating in the Salish Sea, there aren’t many urbane, urban-style cocktail parties. That’s a good thing, to me, because COCKTAIL PARTY is on my list of things I don’t do. I used to be able to make small talk and feign interest with a[...]
THIS TIME OF YEAR
October 28th, 2016
The falling of leaves changes the face of a forest, and we can see beyond the trees. The produce of the harvest in our pantries gives a sense of wellbeing. Pondering the demise of the gardens that made the harvest possible reminds us of mortality. The creaturely call to hibernate[...]
Me and My Car
September 25th, 2016
Fact One: I plan to live to be ninety-six years old, give or take a couple. That’s three years fewer than my grandfather lived (who didn’t smoke or drink, who ate oatmeal every morning, and who didn’t retire until he was almost ninety). But ninety-six is ten years longer than my[...]
Crones with Tool Belts
August 24th, 2016
In the corner of a coffee shop I sit across from a woman 30 years younger than I. I’m drinking my usual – a 16-ounce London Fog, light on the vanilla. She has a latte, the foam coaxed into a tulip pattern. We’ve quickly dispensed with the small talk, have[...]
REGRETS and CURIOSITY
July 28th, 2016
One of the human qualities I most appreciate, about myself and about others, is curiosity, and its cousin courage. A person who wonders is a person who is engaged with life regardless of their age or circumstances. From the trivial (how many people DO live in Chicago?) to the profound[...]
A Drop of Holy Silence
June 26th, 2016
Even at noon the Friday traffic was miserable, mostly 30 mph from north of Seattle to south of Tacoma. It took us four hours to make the two-hour trip from Whidbey Island to St. Placid Priory in Lacey, WA. Janice had been to the priory before. When she invited me to[...]
The Rudest Question
May 28th, 2016
It can stop a conversation short: the word WHY. Especially when it’s asked about feelings. In our culture WHY carries hidden messages of judgment. “Why are you sad, John?” (Hidden message, You shouldn’t be sad. Your sadness makes me uncomfortable. Stuff your sadness, please.) WHY can sound challenging, subtly demanding “Why do[...]
Writing as a Radical Act
April 24th, 2016
All the chairs in a circle, Whidbey-Island-style, three recent authors gathered with a room full of writers to share our thoughts about “Writing as a Radical Act.” Being wordsmiths, of course the assembled group played with the word “radical,” and were delighted that it contradicted itself and brought complexity to our[...]
Rehearsing dying (without being at death’s door)
March 29th, 2016
When it comes to dental work, I’m a real wuss. If anyone is going to go rooting around in my mouth with sharp instruments, I need to have a heavy dose of nitrous oxide to get me through the trauma. (Confidentially, I think N2O ought to be sold over the[...]
Margins: Where the Familiar seems Strange
January 28th, 2016
Last week Meeting in the Margins and I were welcomed to Ravenna Third Place Books in Seattle for a reading/discussion hour. As I usually do, I began my presentation with stories of offering compassionate touch to the street people of San Francisco. Those are arguably the more compelling stories in the[...]
THE VALUE OF GOSSIP
December 25th, 2015
Dad was a painfully private man, especially in his later years, after Mother was in the nursing home across the street and he lived in their apartment alone. I was visiting him one day when there was a knock on his door. He unlocked (but did not unchain) the door,[...]
FEATHERS: “Divine Messages” to and from life’s margins
November 22nd, 2015
The significance of feathers as a personal symbol dawned on me in my early thirties. My thirteen-year-old son, Tommy, had died, a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time in a heavily armed city. My younger two children were confused and scared; my husband was inconsolable;[...]
Celebrating the Book
October 27th, 2015
Throughout the evening there was a Knowing that THIS was a high point in my life. “Take it in,” the Knowing said. “Revel in it. Give this reading your very best attention and care. Oh, and don’t forget to ENJOY as well.” The event was the Book Launch Party celebrating the[...]
What’s a Blog For?
September 24th, 2015
Sharing thoughts – from the profound to the profane – this, as I understand it, is the purpose of a blog. Blogs are shared with friends and interested others. Writing and posting a blog takes less time than inviting and scheduling twenty individuals for a cuppa at a[...]
BOXES
July 25th, 2015
The first one is filled with file folders, some notebooks, several old kitchen calendars, and a smaller box, labeled in my father’s hand: “Sentimental Journey.” None of this stuff is mine. Or at least it wasn’t mine originally. But I’ve carried it around with me, through 26 years and 5[...]
A QUESTION OF CHANGE
June 24th, 2015
We seem to have a built-in resistance to change. Perhaps it’s a survival instinct of our ego. Some deep part of us fears that every change is a small death – what was, is no more. It’s a little rehearsal for the leave-taking from a life we didn’t ask for in the[...]
WHEN IS "BUREAUCRACY" NOT A PEJORATIVE WORD? (With gratitude to Congressman Larsen’s aides)
May 25th, 2015
“Please, Mom, come sooner rather than later.” It’s an email from my daughter Katheryn in England, a continent and an ocean away – Katheryn, who, three weeks ago, was given a diagnosis of breast cancer, stage two. She was told that she needed mastectomy surgery to save her life. It would[...]
![AUDUBON CLASS (with appreciation [and apologies] to my instructors)](https://cynthiatrenshaw.com/wp-content/plugins/special-recent-posts-pro/cache/MjAwMjAwbm82NTA3MzU1NzMzX2YwOGNmMWY2NWNfd29vZHBlY2tlcjEtMzAweDIyNg==.jpg)
AUDUBON CLASS (with appreciation [and apologies] to my instructors)
April 25th, 2015
We’re nearing the end of a nine-month-long Audubon class, learning about all the birds that frequent Whidbey Island – and there are a LOT! Around two-hundred and fifty kinds, give or take. Our instructors are delighted when we can tell a Song Sparrow from a Fox Sparrow. But what delights me is[...]
LITERARY SONOGRAM
March 29th, 2015
Expectant women wail, “I just want this baby to be BORN! I want this pregnancy to be over with!” Authors whinge about the “labor pains of birthing” their books. It’s an apt analogy, I think. My book, Meeting in the Margins: An Invitation to Encounter Society's Invisible People, has had a very long[...]
The Muse, the Thesaurus, and Me
February 26th, 2015
In January I gave myself a wondrous gift: a week away to do nothing but write poetry. “Nothing but write” means, to me, no TV, no phone, no clock, no schedule. Just me, simple food, tea, some sacramental chocolate, and whichever Muse shows up. What I hadn’t anticipated about my week[...]
The Homeless Man Who Helped
January 28th, 2015
ON CHRISTMAS DAY I scanned an email entitled “Repaying a Homeless Man’s Kindness,” reprinted from Huffington Post and sent by Daily Good: News That Inspires (http://www.dailygood.org/). This is a topic dear to my heart: the gifts offered by society’s invisible people. At first I simply nodded an acknowledgement to my computer[...]
![“FRIEND, GOOD.” [quote from Dr. Frankenstein’s “monster”]](https://cynthiatrenshaw.com/wp-content/plugins/special-recent-posts-pro/cache/MjAwMjAwbm8xNTM4OTUzMjM0XzU5YjQ3OTllYWJfbV9mcmFua2Vuc3RlaW4=.jpg)
“FRIEND, GOOD.” [quote from Dr. Frankenstein’s “monster”]
December 21st, 2014
A dinner guest the other night (this photo is not she!) said that she wished she had more friends. Our lively group around the table grabbed that word, and we were off, launched into yet another interesting conversation for the evening. My contribution to our talk was that “friend” has a[...]
Assisted Dying, Oregon and Oklahoma
November 25th, 2014
In the October 24, 2014 issue of The Week magazine, on facing pages, two brief articles stare across the fold and staples to challenge each other. One describes a 29-year-old woman in Oregon, Brittany, recently married, full of life and happiness and love . . . and lethal cancer of the[...]
The Best Hour of the Year
October 28th, 2014
This morning I thought about one special hour of the year, and how much I look forward to it. It always happens in autumn – a bonus, because that’s my favorite season of the year. This single hour has had a strange history, morphing around the calendar and around the globe.[...]
BEING-WITH IS HEALING
September 27th, 2014
For thirty years my attention has been focused on people who are marginalized in our culture. People who are physically, mentally, or addictively ill; people who have no home; people who are isolated in their homes; people who are dying. I’m not a social activist, and I don’t know how to[...]
Enchanted by Words Beyond My Ken
August 28th, 2014
Last night I thumbed through the August 2014 issue of Scientific American. I stopped at an article entitled “The Black Hole at the Beginning of Time” (by Afshordi, Mann and Pourhasan), which postulates a cosmic black hole that preceded the Big Bang. For all that I comprehended, the article could have[...]
ANATOMY OF A ROPE
July 28th, 2014
A writer who is a poet tends to see things as metaphor. I am a writer/poet, and sometimes I drive myself crazy noticing a thing and knowing there is a delicious but elusive metaphor there, just waiting to be penned. Last week I travelled from my home island to the mainland,[...]
"Holler" Gospel
June 28th, 2014
ON A BEASTLY HOT/HUMID JUNE DAY in Ervine, Kentucky, we were devouring sandwiches and iced drinks at a small air-conditioned coffee shop. Sitting across from me was my niece, Vicky; many years ago she picked this area as the perfect place to live, work, and create community, nestled in a[...]
The Verb “To Outside”
May 22nd, 2014
Outside v. t. to place beyond the regular bounds; to oust; to reject the Dictionary according to Cynthia Yesterday I emailed a friend with my regrets that I couldn’t join her at a workshop she’s attending. I had a commitment to a continuing education day, required to maintain my professional credentials. In my email I[...]
Whales at a Saltwater Margin
May 1st, 2014
Two weeks ago my 14-year-old granddaughter and I went in search of gray whales. Jessica, a Michigander, had never been on saltwater before, had never seen a wild whale. Aboard the Mystic Sea, a 100-foot whale watch boat harbored in Langley, Washington, we set out into Saratoga Passage, the body[...]
YOU'RE A WINNER !!
March 24th, 2014
Last night I saw the movie “Nebraska.” It’s a story about Woody Grant, an old man who is convinced that he has won a million dollars in a sweepstakes contest. He doesn’t trust the mail service to handle something as important as his “winning number,” and he no longer has[...]
SPIRITUAL COMPOSTING: Letting the margins come to you
February 28th, 2014
I write a lot about going from the middle of our culture to its edges, where our marginalized people find themselves. I encourage my readers to encounter those margins for themselves, to discover the richness and the wisdom that live there. But when I’m unable, or unwilling, to go to the[...]
All-Night Laundromat
January 31st, 2014
Recent research says that while we sleep our brain cells shrink, making room to let the sap they swim in wash away the toxins of the day. Tonight I crawl between the sheets, pull the covers up and nuzzle in my pillow balancing my brain like laundry baskets filled with scraps of images and urges soiled in hours among the wakeful: memories[...]
COASTLINE
December 30th, 2013
"COASTLINE" In the writing of my “Marginal Eyes” manuscript I had to ride my Thesaurus pretty hard, finding a variety of synonyms for “margin.” Nuance was called for. The “margin” I was writing about in this paragraph: was it a “fringe,” a “periphery,” a “boundary,” a “rim,” a “horizon”? And would[...]
A DEEPER QUESTION
November 11th, 2013
Margaret has just been given a six-to-twelve-month prognosis. She’s in pain from the metastasized cancer, and a little wonky from the meds prescribed for the pain. She’s wrestling with the decision of whether or not to take another course of chemotherapy. Should she do the treatments to postpone her dying[...]
Go Fly A Kite!
September 28th, 2013
The emergency equipment I carry in my car includes four kites, four reels of kite string, and two pairs of gloves. That’s because of what I learned as a hospital chaplain. During my training for chaplaincy certification (a rigorous 1600 hours of clinical experience in eighteen months) my assigned mentor was Joe[...]
The Most Generous Art
August 7th, 2013
The thing I love about the performing arts is the generosity of it all. The rehearsals, the talents, the risks, the giving-ness of a performance, all so that I may enjoy, be amazed, be moved, be transported. There is a reciprocity to a performance, a giving and a receiving that[...]
Confessions of a Professional Labyrinth-Walker
July 15th, 2013
How did I come to be in all of the cultural margins in which I've served? My favorite answer to that question is: God's great sense of humor. Another good answer is: by putting one foot in front of the other, moving incrementally in whatever direction seems right in the moment. And both[...]
Meeting in the Margins - A Book Having Its Way with Me
June 25th, 2013
All I wanted to do was tell the stories, the best of the stories from my twenty years of work in the margins of our culture. So I wrote stories of the street people and the isolated people, the sick people and the dying ones, the creative people and the clever[...]