The sacred ground of a threshold
In Dance of the Dissident Daughter, Sue Monk Kidd tells the story of seeing her daughter at work and watching as adult men comment on her as a sexual object. She writes: “My daughter did not see them coming. Kneeling on the floor, she was intent on getting the boxes of Crest lined up evenly. The men stopped, peered down at her. One man nudged the other. He said, “Now that’s how I like to see a woman— on her knees.” The other man laughed.” This experience unlocked deep rage an
Naming the wilderness
I grew up hiking the mountains of Colorado, a peanut butter-and-banana sandwich tucked in my small backpack and red striped laces tied on my brown hiking boots. The scent of warm pine filled the air as I hiked with my sisters, led by our parents and grandparents, into the wilderness areas and backcountry trails. Years later, I spent a summer in the Teton wilderness, learning to live with only what I’d packed on a mule, navigating by ridgeline and scouting for bears and other
The practice of rest
Each year in early fall, I begin to feel myself winding down, a deep, soul desire to begin the long path to winter. Our culture is asking us to ramp up right now, preparing for back-to-school and lots of activities. Sports are returning and holiday planning gets underway. I find myself thinking about what I want to bake for Thanksgiving and Christmas, dishes I didn’t get to last year or flavors that I’d like to incorporate. And yet, underneath all the planning and the messa
Permission, power and presence
I’ve been sitting with many women over the past few years and common themes have emerged, one of which is the question Am I really allowed …? The question takes many forms depending on our unique circumstances and temperament, but at the core lie two deeply vulnerable and spiritual questions: Is it okay for me to live the life that I want? and Do I have a right to exist as myself? Is it okay to say that I love my children, but don’t love being a mom? Am I crazy to start a bus
The knotted places
It seems warmer than usual for mid-May as I walk the gravel trail near our home. Moms and kids play nearby and I wind my way through a canopy of trees. Wind brushes against my neck, laughter tagging along and I exhale. I whisper prayers, the words coming to mind without much thought. Gravel crunching underfoot, a father and his daughter wave as they ride by on their bikes. I cross the road toward the lake. I walk to the edge of the lake, where a great egret is making its way
Learning to mother ourselves
We often enter a new life stage aware of the external changes in our lives, but only vaguely aware of how it may be impacting us at a deeper level. We have crossed a threshold – the loss of a parent or sibling, a change in job or relationship, or the crisis of unexpected health issues. Perhaps nothing has really changed at all, but we sense that something is off. We’re feeling down, overly anxious or lacking vitality and connection to our deepest desires. We feel adrift or ou