My brain is total mush. The night is a wash of panic & exhaustion. Is the baby alive? Did she fall off my chest? Will she ever stop grunting in the cold, hard box that is supposed to be a bed? It occurred to me the other day that perhaps I depend on other people … Continue reading Happy Christmas Eve Eve
grief
The First Geese of Spring
Photo by Julia Craice I saw the first geese of spring this morning while standing on the porch, watching my son point to them from the driveway. When the geese depart and when they return are sacred times for me. They mark the coming and going of the dark season. There's a letting go and … Continue reading The First Geese of Spring
Thresholds: The Sacred Rituals of the Everyday
On Monday, in my writing group, we read Maggie Smith's poem "Threshold." The three of us all thought of threshold differently. One, thought of the exact moment of crossing between as in the point when the light turns to darkness each evening. Another imagined a going between space, the movement from one thing to the … Continue reading Thresholds: The Sacred Rituals of the Everyday
Emily Arnason Casey 