“If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.” – Meister Eckhart “Thank you.” Maybe these words really are enough. Certainly “Thank you” is the phrase on my lips today, the emotion overflowing in my heart, the words I want to say to you, the prayer of gratitude I offer up to the universe. To every single fellow traveler, to everyone who’s read Magical Journey and shared it with a friend, I offer a huge springtime bouquet of thank you’s. Here’s what we’re creating together: *Attention!…
I’ve sometimes wondered if I’ll spend the rest of my life missing my sons as the little boys they used to be. Even now, though it’s been years since I reminded anyone to look both ways, the sight of a mom crossing the street hand-in-hand with a little guy with sleep-tufted hair and rolled up jeans fills my eyes with sudden, unbidden tears. Arriving at an elementary school to give a talk one morning not long ago, watching parents bending low to kiss their children good-bye, observing the sea of bobbing backpacks, the bright art on the walls, the exuberance…
March 18, 2013 – 10:05 am
You have traveled too fast over false ground; Now your soul has come to take you back. Take refuge in your senses, open up To all the small miracles you rushed through. Become inclined to watch the way of rain When it falls slow and free. Imitate the habit of twilight, Taking time to open the well of color That fostered the brightness of day. Draw alongside the silence of stone Until its calmness can claim you. ― John O’Donohue, from “A Blessing for One Who is Exhausted” Hard as it is for my…
December 7, 2012 – 6:52 am
I practiced a visualization all through last winter, one I returned to again and again as I sat alone writing in my son Henry’s upstairs bedroom. In my mind’s eye I saw my friend Margaret Roach at my side, finished books in our hands, the two of us doing a reading together. Margaret, I knew, was holed up in her own snug little house three hours from mine, working on her garden memoir, “The Backyard Parables.” Most mornings, before settling down to serious work, we would send each other a Skype greeting. “You ok up there?” she’d type, usually around…
November 26, 2012 – 4:59 pm
What happens when we begin to count them? The day becomes a poem, the list a prayer, life itself a gift. sunrise flannel sheets cold water hot water peppermint soap oatmeal long underwear iTunes sturdy legs running shoes dogs silence online friends close-by friends new friends forever friends traditions sons with jobs nephews and neices oranges in a bowl peppermint tea tech support hardcover books 1.50 reading glasses a good haircut a good husband cardinals clouds stone walls old trees pink geraniums piano music faith photos grandmothers grown children little kids handwritten notes child pose new kitchen sponges Mary Oliver…
