What do you do with a bridge when the river moves? A few years ago, I stumbled on a photo of a bridge in Honduras. The bridge spanned...

I write these words on arriving home from a walk in the rain. It has been raining since early this morning. I sidestep a few earthworms...

Kelly is a gifted and compassionate yoga teacher. She was my yoga teacher for the past two weeks at The Haven. Art Credit: Susan Sorrell...

These past weeks, we begin our experiment of co-operative housing and intentional community life. It has raised to the surface a set of...

My cherished friend and mentor has written these words: a helpful description of what the season of spring reveals. …Before spring...

A friend invited Robyn and me to a dinner party last weekend. It was not a typical social: requiring the usual small talk about our...

A dear and wise friend wrote to me yesterday after posting a more general update on Facebook. He experienced a seizure a few weeks ago....

Every few years I find a mystery key on my key chain. Perhaps it is because I have moved several times over these past decades. For the...

I repeat myself. I am not sure if I ever write or say anything that is ever novel. I continue to dig up and gnaw on the same old bones...

I loved the smell of my high school carpentry shop. The shaved wood and sawdust emitted this odor of earth and life. Alas, they say...

I often listen to audiobooks and music on my ipod when driving. Now, my older Toyota lacks the ability to plug in my ipod directly into...

Breaking the ice… this moment of finally sitting down and starting to write this initial blog post has been thought about for some time...

The title for this blog, Breathing Like Stone, is one that I stumbled on. It arose for me from a reading from Mark Nepo’s wonderful ...