Musings on how a single nomad makes peace in planting roots.
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Baci Blessings
~Do I experience the world because I keep my heart and eyes open, or are my heart and eyes open because I experience the world?~ One by one, the elders of the clan gathered in the living room and approached the newborn on their knees. Gently, they each tied a single white string around the…
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Holiness pierced her eyes when she watched how the union of lavenders and soft, peachy hues transform a sunrise above the nomad’s camp in the semi-Gobi. The discovery of playful buoyancy in the marshy salt lakes of Siwa lifted and cleansed her, a baptism before she was ready to take communion. A nocturnal boat ride
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Whenever you feel weary What I wish for youIs to not take a pill or a drink or a man To distract your soul. But insteadTo put down your phone,Pour out your glass, And take a long, aimless walk Beneath the tall oaks and maples, Who will offer With their hand-sized leavesA kind, gentle shade. Alone, may
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~Do I experience the world because I keep my heart and eyes open, or are my heart and eyes open because I experience the world?~ One by one, the elders of the clan gathered in the living room and approached the newborn on their knees. Gently, they each tied a single white string around the
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Living a nomadic lifestyle made it difficult -if not impossible- to keep plants. Now that I’m putting down roots, I’ve become a plant mom to a motley crew of flora and fauna: a regal ponytail palm, a stubborn spider plant, a finicky but fragrant basil plant, a collage of multi-colored succulents, and a quartet of
Circuitous Wanderings 