I am never going to get it Right. What I know: I hunger to connect. With the land, with people. Is there a different way to visit another universe? I hunger for wildness. And so I pause to walk the length of my gravel driveway … Continue reading Prayer Life on the Mountain, August 2021
We make our home on the mountain Alongside those who make their home Between the branches and the twigs dangling midair Their silky shelters are the shape of impermanence and plenty Vultures are the poets here Hickory nuts write letters on the land I … Continue reading Family Relations
Two and a half hours of my first Orthodox service A procession of icons around the church “I don’t recommend high heels,” the priest says We press through snow pack and pass icicles thick as beets Somali toddlers weave between our legs Eleven languages spoken … Continue reading The Sunday of Orthodoxy in Missoula
Sometimes I do not know my face. I see a woman mistaken for an abuela on the Stockton to Sacramento Greyhound. Or, my mother if she never dyed her hair. Maybe I am the sepia photo of my great grandmother when she was a … Continue reading Unknowing
If I were to say my parent’s stellar success as physicians did not affect me, I’d be lying. No, they didn’t pressure me to have their ambitions. The consistent message was to be the person God created me to be. The problem is, what if … Continue reading Mis~tak~ing
If my childhood were a mosaic, I would name one piece Blue Jay because that is the sound I heard from within an air-conditioned museum of a house. The sound pierced silence, reminding me of the stillness my world was made out of during the … Continue reading A Case for Blue Jays
During the Eucharist, my thoughts wandered to 9/11, the widows and widowers, the families, lovers, and friends, and what this liturgical season may mean for them. I realized that my closest friends are a hodgepodge of atheists and agnostics. Our friendship has never hinged on my … Continue reading Easter Rap
There is a hole in my husband’s jeans from the time he climbed over a fence in rural Oregon. Rusted strands stood between him and a white farmhouse that we hoped would have gas or a person willing to give him a lift to a … Continue reading Favorite Blue Jeans
Between the gumbo and the beer, we map our funerals on a paper tablecloth at Fisherman’s Corner. Our waitress remembers us from May. “Kids are the ones who scribble on the sheet,” she says, “Aren’t you the one who bit into a pearl?” “Yeah, it’s … Continue reading A Light Lunch
Have you noticed all the artwork symbolizing your tranquility? You are the face of peace in the Buddhist tradition. Mary looks downright sedate amidst the stoic Catholic icons. Who doesn’t love a bearded guy holding an adorable lamb? Seriously. Have you noticed the gardens, water … Continue reading Dear God,
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