Grief is a sacred journey

My Land and Home

The Delicate Dance between Mother and Crone

My son Anthony sent a text last week. “Leaving San Francisco now.” Their move to rural New York had been planned for many months, so that was no surprise. I wanted to write back: “Watch out for snow

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Gardening is a Spiritual Practice

We walked through a maze of flowered paths in Montreux, Switzerland. My husband Vic rolled a ball with our young son David so I could talk with Paul Brunton, the elderly philosopher we’d come to visit. In 1973 during our

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How is a Buddhist Monk like a Butterfly?

I don’t grasp the subtleties of Buddhist philosophic teachings or understand the mechanics of flight, but I know the beauty of a Korean monk opening his heart and a Fritillary opening her golden wings. I touch inner stillness as a Monarch sips nectar and the

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Planting Life at a Time of Sorrow

My brother Jim seemed steady and a little stronger last week. There was talk of releasing him from the hospital to rehab, so I drove seven hours home to deal with what I’d left behind. I needed

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Solo on a Bench Built for Two

“We’ll sit here in the afternoon sun when we’re old and too tired to walk,” Vic said when we designed a deck with a two-person bench shielded from the wind. “We’ll watch sunsets here.” He dubbed it

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Wild Nights: 2015

A New Year’s gift of night skies and poems of joy and hope. Photos labeled “at home” were taken on my hill on the east side of Seneca Lake in the New York Finger Lakes. In 1972, my husband

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Unintended Consequences, Unexpected Gifts

First the old car had to be replaced, the one Vic and I bought before he got sick. Then the kitchen drain clogged and flooded the floor. Water dripped through the pine boards to the cellar. I called

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Grieving for a Sacred Grove

“Let’s walk the Ravine Trail,” my son Anthony said. This Finger Lakes National Forest trail isn’t far from my property, but I hadn’t been there this season. A killer threatens this small grove of hemlocks: Hemlock wooly adelgid, a native

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Bees, Butterflies, and Blessings: Cycles of Nature and Grief

If you’ve read my blog or visited my Facebook page, you know photography helped with my grieving process. In 2008 when my husband Vic died, I rarely took photos. Vic was the family photographer. The evening after Vic’s memorial service,

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A Painting, a Pyramid, and my Longing

“I brought you a gift,” my daughter-in-law Liz said the day after the launch party for Leaning into Love. She seemed unusually shy. “Really, Liz? Another gift? You gave me the gift of driving from North Carolina to

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