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Today I remembered something ancient. Not learned, but remembered. It came as a quiet song from within: Trust. Dance. Joy. It came not as instruction, but as rhythm. It’s how I am with God. It’s how God is with me. This is not a creed—it’s a living relationship. A dynamic exchange. A way of being with the All That Is. TRUST is the first movement. It’s the descent. The surrender. The letting go of control and falling back into the arms of what I know is true. When I trust, I s

As a healthcare chaplain in New York City and New Haven for twelves years, I encountered death every day. I witnessed over time that death, despite the pain of separation, can be, and is beautiful. As I walked through Goddard Memorial Park this week, I realized that the leaves I see in vivid reds, yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples are actually in the dying process. I have always found nature to be a mirror. If nature's death is beautiful, can't ours be too?

The Spirit sent me into the wilderness and whispered. ..you are mine.

"The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love — whether we call it friendship or family or romance — is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another." Maria Popova (in an article talking about James Baldwin)

May we spread love everywhere.

“When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world. I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation. When I found I couldn’t change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn’t change the town, and as an older man, I tried to change my family. Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could ha

I fractured my ankle in January and have a long recovery ahead. My husband got me a wonderful book, Journal Like a Stoic: A 90-Day Stoicism Program to Live with Greater Acceptance, Less Judgment, and Deeper Intentionality by Dr. Brittany Polat. Today’s prompt invited me to sit with myself, without distractions, for 15 minutes and simply observe. I was struck by how calm I became—my anxiety seemed to melt away. As I sat in stillness, I realized that much of my life has been sh

In May 2024, I was honored to serve as the spiritual voice in this important article on caregiving, published in The New York Times. With over 53 million Americans now acting as unpaid caregivers—often without support, training, or relief—we urgently need to care for our caregivers. Their mental, emotional, and physical health is at risk, yet they keep showing up. If you are a caregiver, know that you are not alone. There is support. I see you. I thank you. I stand with you.

“Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.” — David Augsburger I’ve spent thousands of hours listening to people—in hospitals, hospice rooms, churches, and sacred silences. And I’ve learned this: Listening re-humanizes those who feel invisible. It interrupts shame with quiet, nonjudgmental presence. It regulates the nervous system by offering gentle co-regulation. It creates sacred space where the Spirit can move fr

Every day I seek inspiration from the world around me. What I have learned over time in this process: 1) the only person responsible for inspiring me is me 2) when I slow down and pay attention, the pool of inspiration expands exponentially 3) I often am most inspired in the least expected way May you be inspired this day by the world around you in unexpected and meaningful ways.

Sacred geometry is simply stunning, sweetly satisfying my soul. Where do you see this natural wonder in your life? What does it do to your soul?

“If your heart is broken, make art.” Shane Koyczan For a long time, I didn’t know what to do with my pain. I had uncovered truths about my past that left me breathless, undone, flooded with grief. I said it again and again: my heart is broken. When I came across Shane Koyczan’s words, they didn’t comfort me. They stung. I wasn’t creating anything. I wasn’t painting or writing or weaving beauty out of my sorrow. I was surviving. And I felt ashamed that survival didn’t look mor

I believe in the transformative power of love. But I believe that for me, real transformation begins in my own heart, with love, care, and compassion for myself. Self-love is not a luxury or a trend. It’s the restoration of truth, the remembrance that we were never unworthy, just unseen. I see you. And you are beautiful!

When the waters churn, go deep. Beneath the waves there is calm. Beneath the noise there is God’s yes.

Every morning I wake up now, I become more and more convinced that my life must be about love—love for myself, for others, for our world, for it all. Love is the only thing that has ever worked in my life. I believe so fiercely that love is what will change our world, one act of kindness at a time.

“The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me.” — Meister Eckhart Today I feel it—fully, finally, with every breath and every cell. There is no distance. There is no separation. There never was. The veil is thinning, not just between worlds, but within me. The one who sees is the one who is seen. The seeker is the sought. I am not looking at God. I am looking through God. And God is looking through me. This gaze—soft, eternal, unblinking—is not ma

Yesterday morning, something rare happened. I was out on the trail, my usual place of prayer, sweat, and soul-tending, when a small rustle caught my attention. A baby rabbit. Tiny, soft, new to this world. It crossed the path gently and stopped just a breath away from me. I froze. And waited. I expected it to run, but it didn’t. It looked at me. Ate. Looked again. Ate some more. It wasn’t afraid. In fact, it seemed… calm. Peaceful. Present. I kept still, not because I had to,

There are days that shimmer a little more than others. Today was one. I went hiking, felt my strength returning, my body alive, my life changing. I’ve lost so much weight I hardly recognize myself in clothes that no longer fit. I went to Kohl’s, then the grocery store, thinking it was just an ordinary day. Then he called out—“Excuse me, young man”—and waved me over. He was older, maybe disabled, sitting with a small backpack, needing a ride to the library. I’ve said yes to pe