"Out of a great need we are all holding hands and climbing.
Not loving is letting go. Listen.
The terrain around here is far too dangerous for that."
- Hafiz -
July has been a study in paradox, once again full of the immense practice of embracing life’s incongruities and opposites. Truths that turn into fiction and fictions that turn into truth. The onslaught of emotion and information that shifts and turns, sabotages and surprises us each and every day. It is dangerous out there. It is also safe, when we connect with our eyes, our words, our laughter, our discernment and humanity.
“. . . when the Light of the World shattered, it fell into all events
and all people, past, present, and future. . . . We are here to find the hidden light in all people . . .
it is not about doing something huge . . . it is about healing the world that touches you.”
- Rachel Naomi Remen, quoting her grandfather -
I’ve been feeling a great grief in the air, laced with anger and melancholy. Visiting our property today, the first line of this poem began singing in my head. The saguaros stood rooted with arms outstretched. The line kept singing, then turned into this poem.
“We must risk delight . . . We must have the stubbornness
to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world.”
- Jack Gilbert, from Refusing Heaven -
My mother Elinor Davis Erni passed away September 3rd, seven years after being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. Only days before she died, my sister described our mother in these poignant words —"She remains fragile, tenacious and courageous.”
Alzheimer’s is a wicked disease. My mother faded over these past years from a funny, smart, beautiful woman whose outlook was invariably sunny, to a soul whose body and mind had abandoned her, bit by excruciating bi...
My words, my moods, my thoughts, ripple out to those around me. My actions, or non-actions, have an affect on myself, on others, on fragile ideas and dreams, my living space, the natural environment.
On a walk with my sister in the Jardín Botanico in San Miguel de Allende, I was struck by this fountain's message, how water from an unseen source bubbled up and into a round stone pool. Softly, with a gentle force that effortlessly rippled out—its soothing burbling and circular expansion was continual, mesmerizing.