If someone had asked me five years ago if I were a “mystic,” I wouldn’t have understood what they were asking. A mystic! What the heck is that? Would a mystic be someone like that guy Merlin the Magician in Camelot, who performs weird alchemical tricks with batwings and bitter herbs?
Telling Our Stories
Stories from our regular writers.
Following My Heart’s Desire…Into Spiritual Community
What is my heart’s desire? Is that how I should learn to focus this life I am given? What brings me joy? What character seems to be real for me? Who am I really — deep down inside? Those are the types of questions that have always interested me. Of course, I have had a […]
The Curse of Moving
A certified mail notice arrived at my door on September 1. Now, usually there are only two reasons that I ever get certified mail: one is for a bill that the collector is finding a hard time collecting, and the other is from my lackadaisical, out-of-touch, out-of-town, first-time landlords. Their reasons for sending me things certified mail is to make sure I got the documents because “their friends, who were in the real estate business before, warned them about people like me.” Needless to say, I didn’t rush to the post office, but perhaps I should have.
Making Rags
In every house I’ve lived in, there is a drawer filled with neatly folded rectangles of soft cloth: torn up sheets and pillowcases, dismembered tee shirts. Often their patterns are familiar. A favorite dress or comfortable shirt has slowly faded with use, until it no longer serves its original purpose…
Big, Bigger, Best
A group of athletes runs competitively and proudly to a slogan that strikes a familiar chord with me because of my rather “full-ish” figure. You don’t have to be thin to be fit. This group is Team Clydesdale USA, and they gallop to this mantra via a weight class that specifically recognizes big, heavyweight people who race – not fat people (though of course they’re not excluded) – but big.

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