I'd love to see you there as we watch a glorious film full of brilliant galaxies and stars. As we sit in community and watch how another wonderful community supported Charity so she could bring us the stars.

I decided just this morning after learning of yet another loss to start posting about ways to stay connected to our lost loved ones even as we live in the moment with the loved ones who are still here. I'm offering it as a sort of antidote to the glitz that we sometimes feel pressured to feel around the Holy Days—the holidays.

In the past week or so, my smaller circles of connections have seen a lot of loss. Some of the losses have been older people who were lingering for a long time before passing this week. Some deaths were more sudden with people dying of unexpected aneurysms or tragic accidents. I decided just this morning after learning of yet another loss to start posting about ways to stay connected to our lost loved ones even as we live in the moment with the loved ones who are still here.

The Cleveland Clinic describes doom scrolling as “our societal tendency to take in a torrent of bad news while mindlessly scanning social media.” Do you doom scroll? Is that habit bringing you down? I have a suggestion for you.

I’d like to die at L’Arche. I said that to someone recently and the words at first surprised me. They sound so blunt, but they are true. I can’t imagine a better place or way to die than what I witnessed with core member Cindy Skarvold who passed away August 30, 2025. 

Six years ago this week, I wrote a small piece while sitting next to my sister in the Neurological Intensive Care Unit at Swedish Hospital on Cherry Hill in Seattle.

Finally, I went to Anthony's Restaurant on the edge of the park to ask desperately if anyone knew what I could do to find my dogs.

Each time we opened the hive to feed the bees sugar water or check on them, I felt an overwhelming peace--a sense of awe and wonder at the tiny creatures who surrounded me with their motion and the calming powerful sound of "hum."

Someone had stolen 300 dollars and then 100 dollars out of an ATM in Puyallup the day before.

The hours I spent in the car changed from a long, tiresome drive into a deliberate time of transition between the spaces—a liminal space.

I have not broken my back under the weight of a horse but I have also found that I needed to forgive my body for not being in top form.

Thank you all so much for your kindness and for letting me know that my words about losing Mom were helpful. I noticed some things I want...

Last October I tried to write about my mom's decision to end her life. I couldn't manage it. Shortly after that, several people mentioned...