Sometimes it’s hard to unravel a story of the present moment back in time to its “beginning,” and it seems that every beginning is simply the continuation of some previous moment or story, too. As I’ve pondered how to honor
Honoring Bob Willoughby
Ropes
I am sitting here on the ground surrounded by remnants of frayed rope. Hemp rope, rough and scratchy. My hands are red and burned, and my body is bruised. But the pain in my body is small right now, when
Peace * Fear * Change
I am thankful and optimistic that my social media feed is filled with strong and compassionate views about making change in this country. I am so grateful to find myself surrounded in community that truly wants to move toward PEACE