Grief is a sacred journey

Political Action

Have They Forgotten They Are Mortal? Lessons from Hecate

384 8 545 2 The Greek Goddess Hecate has a witchy reputation—wild broomstick rides in the night, warts on her nose, and poison brews, but it wasn’t always like that. In ancient Greece, she was a revered,

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Interdependence

114 4 I should have known sorrow would flood my heart. I should have known grief would grab my belly and soak my face. I should have known I’d search the crowd for my dead husband’s smile. I should

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Giving Hope a Seat Between Anxiety and Grief: Women’s March on Washington

149 20 Women, girls, kids, and men in pink hats and scarves jammed the Washington Metro subway. A joyful and determined pink mob pressed together and helped each other find a place to stand or sit. Each

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The Girl Who Believed in Good Government

105 2 On election night, I went to bed before 10 p.m. My breath was shallow. My belly tight. Reading didn’t help. I got up and took Ambien. Damn this election and the fear-mongering headlines. I awoke at

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Why I’ll Vote for Hillary Clinton

368 My college years began with the assassination of John Kennedy in 1963. In 1968, the year after I graduated, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy were assassinated.  The world felt threatening and unstable. A lot like now. I

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After Dallas: Facing My Shadow

224 18 “These aren’t marijuana plants,” the policeman said to his partner.  He bent down to inspect a second tray of tomato seedlings I was growing outside and frowned. “These aren’t marijuana plants either.” He slowly shook his head with disappointment. They searched the outside

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Guides to the Other Shore: Women Swimmin’ for Hospicare

144 2 As we walked downhill toward the lake, hundreds of kayaks, canoes and paddleboards bobbed in choppy water. Small balls floated near them–bathing caps and bare heads. Wet paddles sparkled as they moved toward us from

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Blessing the Water, Blessing our Life

108 A small group of women and men gathers at the south end of Seneca Lake for a sacred water ritual of gratitude and protection. I wrap a Tibetan yak wool blanket over my winter coat. It’s

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The Copper Vessel: Prayer Walk for a Gas Free Seneca

152 My legs ache and a blister throbs, but I don’t stop or slow down.  I focus on the copper vessel ahead of me with its beaded red cloth cover. It holds water collected four days ago

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Make Love Not War: 1967

114 1 I lean into Vic, tucking my shoulder under his arm. Feeling me tremble, he unzips his jacket and wraps it around both of us. I’d rather be in bed, pressed against his naked body, but

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