About this time every year, I decide I’ve had enough of winter. Lucky for me, we’re halfway through! Wednesday is the beginning of Imbolc, the ancient Celtic celebration that marks the midway point between winter solstice and spring equinox and the return of the light.
I’m back in the woods after three weeks on the road, in the city and in the suburbs—places where you wouldn’t think nature abounds. Yet, this is where turtle magic found me.
One of the few memories I have from when I was very young is my mom tucking my brother and I in bed at night. As she would begin to exit the room, we would yell, “Halfway, halfway, halfway!” begging her to leave the door open enough to allow in some light.
I once had a sheepdog named Sophie who was a homebody. Wherever her body was felt like home to her. If she was outdoors, she did not want to come in, and if she was in, it was tough to get her out.
This week as I prepared to leave for my pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago, a little package arrived in the mail from a dear friend. In it was a silver necklace inscribed with the word journey.
A couple of weekends ago at the AWAKE Festival, I found myself dancing barefoot in the center of a large drum circle. I felt wonderfully free…and totally awkward.
A few days ago, I intended to clean the schmutz out of the stock tank. For those of you not rurally inclined, a stock tank is a huge, heavy outdoor water container for horses and other livestock.
It was my first day of fourth grade at a new school in suburban Detroit–far, far away from my hometown of Houston. I sat barely moving in a swing on the playground as my classmates circled around me chanting “Talk, talk!”
Last weekend, I took the opportunity to do two of my favorite things—ride my horse and hike. As part of my Camino training regimen, on Sunday I walked the trail that I had ridden my horse on the day before. It made me think about shifting perspective.
A couple of days before the Roe v. Wade announcement, I was driving up the dirt road to my house in broad daylight when an owl being chased by birds swooped past my windshield carrying some bloody, furry prey.
