Lady Uppity woke feeling sad. And a little terrified. Perhaps I’m just a little homesick. After all, it had been two months since she left home, relocating while the mold was eradicated and the flooring repaired. Insurance delays had stretched the work far longer than anyone expected. Lost in thought, sipping her morning coffee and… Continue reading The Sacred Threshold
Tag: Peace
Love Leaves Fingerprints That Often Don’t Appear Until Years Later
Lord Honey Bear loved to grow things. Not just vegetables or wildflowers, though he grew those beautifully. He grew gardens wherever life gave him a little patch of earth. Even the barren top of Lost Mesa, stripped nearly bare after years of overgrazing, became, in his hands, a place where native grasses swayed, and wildflowers… Continue reading Love Leaves Fingerprints That Often Don’t Appear Until Years Later
There’s No Place Like Home
Lady Uppity considered herself a spiritually evolved woman until one burst pipe and three industrial drying fans revealed she was, in fact, still deeply attached to predictability. It started one warm spring morning. Lady Uppity did what she always does — she finished her morning meditation, made a cup of coffee, settled into her outrageously… Continue reading There’s No Place Like Home
Like Water, It Will Pass
Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor. — Thích Nhất Hạnh The Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana) is water.And water was never meant to be controlled into stillness—it is meant to move, swirl, rise, fall, soften, and release. Our emotions are much the same. They come like waves—rising, cresting,… Continue reading Like Water, It Will Pass
When We Did Not Turn Away
In our Sunday Women’s Circle, we spoke to the elephant in the room. One by one, each woman faced the feelings churning deep within. Courage became our staff to lean on. It wasn’t only the fear of a world that feels unstable. It was the bitter taste of betrayal. Still, one at a time, we… Continue reading When We Did Not Turn Away
Rooted
There’s a woman seated in the forest, dressed in roots.She’s not trapped.She’s rooted. This morning, I woke shaking.My body remembering.Stories in the world tapping on old doors. “No. Not this again.”I cried.When will it end? For a moment, I wanted the memories gone — erased, buried, finished once and for all. But wanting them gone… Continue reading Rooted
A Doorway, Not a Wound
A short while ago, someone posted something on social media that felt unkind to me.It was a slanted half-truth — just enough distortion to sting. I don’t know this person well. I suspect they were moving from their own unresolved pain. Still, it hurt. It was passive-aggressive. Aimed. And I found myself asking the old… Continue reading A Doorway, Not a Wound
Victim and Villain: Two Sides of the Same Coin
The pain is part of my story — but it is not the story. It was my usual Thursday morning session, sitting with my trusted friend and Zen therapist. Once again, I was sharing the tragedy I believed was my life. Even though he’d heard my story countless times, he listened with deep, loving compassion.… Continue reading Victim and Villain: Two Sides of the Same Coin
What Does it Mean to Walk Peace Into the World — In a Kitchen, In a Sentence, In a Breath?
No, I’m not walking 2,300 miles. But I am walking — through grief, through illness, through fear, through change, through truth-telling, and through writing. Each step becomes a meditation. With each step, I breathe, reminding myself: I am here. I belong. I am safe. In this way, even the smallest movement becomes a quiet prayer… Continue reading What Does it Mean to Walk Peace Into the World — In a Kitchen, In a Sentence, In a Breath?
Why We Cry
I have the flu, the kind of flu where my body aches with relentless pain, I cannot keep anything down, and getting out of bed takes all the energy I can muster. So, I sleep. And when sleep isn’t possible, I watch endless videos of the monks’ 2300-mile Walk for Peace. And I cry with… Continue reading Why We Cry