A bench is an invitation to become one with it for a while, to sit and be still in your surroundings, and let nature and the world flow around you.
Cascading collective trauma is the term for what we’re experiencing as we endure seemingly never-ending external events and tragedies.
Walking is like a photosynthesis activity for us, an absorption of what’s out there to help us grow and stay healthy within, and also a process of shedding mental toxins.
Musings about why we appreciate sunsets, a recipe for a refreshing Chambord and rosé cocktail, and a haiku.
Sometimes I realize I’m distracted by the myriad of data and news and trivia (oh my!) that worm their way into my consciousness and need a break from all that external stimuli.
Sometimes, people die because they feel “less than”; they die because they think they’re alone. They think they’re the only ones crying in the night, because they’re crying alone and don’t feel safe enough to talk about it. We. Have. To Talk. About. It.
These images are from a photo safari I undertook this week in Jefferson, Colorado, in between intense empathy and hand-wringing.
I’m fascinated by the dandelion; such a temporal thing it is. Transient, and yet tenacious, it grows, blooms, morphs, and flies away, above the fray, to plant seeds (and a new life) somewhere else.
Today, on Labor Day, I’m thinking of the many people I know who are laboring or heavy-laden, and I pray for them to find respite, peace, healing, comfort and support.
Our fence posts seemed to be a set of crosses with a message: Spring is here, the tomb is empty, and resurrection, rebirth and new growth are real.
Each of us has the opportunity to positively impact others by the way we live and act on our values.
A pair of new studies show how birds improve our wellbeing, adding to a growing body of evidence that avians are an antidote to our despair.
“Hamlet Was Wrong!” Source: Malcolm Gladwell’s 3-Word Reminder to Stop You from Overthinking This quick read is provocative and inspiring in a time of uncertainty.