This weekend I’m retreating at the home of my friend and co-editor Ruby Wilson to assemble the second volume of Poetry of Presence (forthcoming, May, 2022). Without question, this is my favorite part of creating…
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Dear Julie, Thank you for your sweet note concerning my work. Thank you, too, for entrusting me with this question that’s been weighing on your heart: “How does one hold both grief and joy at…
Wending your way through an art museum, you come to a gallery with two wooden chairs in the center. A small table separates them. White tape on the floor delimits a large square around the…
Don is a 90-year-old retired firefighter. He lives in a condo on the 10th floor of an apartment building in a bustling suburb of Washington, DC. Five years ago, Don sent me an email—another stranger,…
Mike the plumber was at our house last week, replacing a couple of old hot-water radiators. One morning, I asked him to pause his work and step into our main bathroom. “You smell sewer gas…
Lemon tree, very pretty, and the lemon flower is sweet But the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat … Do you remember this folk song about disappointed love? So much hinges…
See if you can figure out the significance of my title before I finish. * * * The last few weeks, I’ve been living in the closet, producing the audiobook version of Staying Power: Writings…
[NOTE: As I’m still on my writing retreat, I’m reposting content that originally appeared on 2/23/21. If all goes as planned, I’ll be back with a new post next week!] Here I am, on retreat…
Are we willing to find room at the Great Table for the entire human family, even for those we’d rather turn away? Are we prepared to make room for one another? This dream suggests an answer.
How do we learn to accept the “Leahs” of our lives rather than causing them to suffer? We might begin by naming who we’re afraid of, exactly.
Last week’s post about my red “I am part of Everybody” coat prompts an amazing response from around the world.
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