JenWReeve

Resilience and Rivers

Resilience and Rivers

The Covid vaccination has granted me some freedom, so I’m in Texas this week. On Easter Sunday morning, I found myself in one of my favorite “churches”–the woods of Hamilton Green Belt, near Austin. With her usual abundant grace, Nature preached the perfect sermon for me. The green leaves just beginning to peek out of trees that endured a paralyzing February storm showed me what rebirth looks like. So much died in that storm—plants, animals and people. The forest shows us how to be resilient, how even though separation can be painful, the gift of letting go is growth. I […]

Pausing to Heal

Pausing to Heal

Last Saturday night, the City of Boulder asked people to pause for 10 slow breaths, followed by 10 minutes of silence for the victims of the March 22 mass shooting in a grocery store. It was a moment of collective grief. I also believe it was a moment of collective healing. Don’t misunderstand me. I am not suggesting that this practice alone comes anywhere close to healing anyone. Healing of any kind is a process–a cycle–and it takes time. Usually more time than we expect it will. We know that healing isn’t necessarily straightforward, and it can often include as […]

Learning to Wonder

Learning to Wonder

I had just finished a book club discussion of Valarie Kaur’s See No Stranger, A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love, when I learned the news of last week’s spa shooting rampage that killed eight people, six of them Asian women. And now, just before I publish this, I’m hearing news of another shooting spree in a grocery store in Boulder, Colo. By the time you read this, we will know all of the horrible details. Once again, I feel a huge empty space in my heart that wants to fill itself with hatred for the shooters, and my head […]

Snow and Synergy

Snow and Synergy

As I gaze at the piles of snow remaining from last weekend’s storm, I remember a winter day in Houston, Texas, when I was about four years old. My mother took me over to the living room window, and as I watched a few flimsy flakes floating to the ground, she said, “Look, it is snowing! You will probably never see this again in your lifetime.” Little did she know where I would end up. (Little did she know that even if I had stayed in Houston, I would have seen it snow there more than once more). As a […]

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