Mourning and Dancing

As I write, I’m at the Naval Academy, accompanying Steve on a “work trip” (also known as putting about a hundred Midshipmen who are interested in a career as a SEAL through a grueling night of God-only-knows-what). He has a bag full of gear and extra socks...

Homes for the Homeless

Saying thanks for all the women who cuddle my children, who make me melancholy mix tapes, who pray when I send out a 911 text for some help, who call me in for a consult on bathroom decor, who remind me that I say ridiculous things like “I love an October...

Prophet and Poet, Part III

I’m still musing on parts one and two of this series — and apparently some of you are too — so I thought I’d go ahead and write a part III. Let’s talk about calling. First, there are those of us who feel as though a calling or callings...

Prophet and Poet, Part II

I keep thinking about my post from Monday, so I thought I’d listen to the resonance and provide a second installment of the post, perhaps more personal this time. Maybe this is me commenting on my own post. Hmmmmm . . . that’s interesting. I confess to being a shoe...

Prophet and Poet

Last night, I read a beautiful chapter from Kathleen Norris’ (poet turned memoirist) The Cloister Walk, a memoir of her time in residence at St. John’s Abbey in Minnesota, living thoroughly within the monastic tradition. In the piece I was reading, Norris had been...