The other day I was walking near the woods and the birds were so vocal, all together, that it reminded me of the holidays back home when I was growing up. And the poem Swimming appeared. I love this season as the murmurations start back into full swing. This is something I was able to see growing up.…
Interconnectedness is one of the underpinnings of ecological spirituality. For many of us, it is something we innately know or feel. For others, the concept remains abstract. Dr. Lisa Miller—author and researcher from Columbia University—will join us May 5 and 6 in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and virtually. In our time together, she will share her research findings…
We are all guests of God’s hospitality. The world in which we live is pure gift,” proclaims theologian Monika Hellwig in her famous work Guests of God: Stewards of Divine Creation. Our very existence, human nature, consciousness, intelligence, creativity … all are gift. Companionship of other humans, plant and animal life, water, air, minerals, light,…
After the festive month of December, January often feels like a slog. The fun is over, and now we’re left with just winter. True, the light is returning, but there are still months before the green time—months of snow, ice, mud, and melt. Culturally, we’re told to start anew at the New Year, to remake…
Join us for the Pathways to Peace: Food as Relationship Retreat Jan. 24–26, 2025. Learn more and register on our website. “What would happen, for example, if we were to start thinking about food as less of a thing and more of a relationship?” —Michael Pollan Peace, as defined by the Earth Charter, is the…
I recently found a collection of nature essays by Thomas Merton called When the Trees Say Nothing: Writings on Nature, edited by Kathleen Deignan. The title really caught my attention. How can that be, I asked? The trees talk to me every day. I cannot imagine a world when they say nothing, one where we…
When the temperatures drop, the number of hours of daylight shortens and a tree’s sugar intake is reduced, the leaves shine the most. We all marvel in the beauty of brilliant oranges, deep reds and bright yellow hues that the trees have been hiding under shades of green the entire season. Something about the changing…
Because of love I kneel down here— To a bird, a seed, a story. To a wildflower, a stream, a vision of The light cracking on sky Because of love I leave myself here— On the far side of the place where I thought I was going— Nearer to something that I cannot name, And…
When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come to the…
It is early September 2024. My windows are open, and the symphony of the woods is lilting through the screen. The crickets provide an anchoring hum, birdsong provides a melody, and the gentle, rhythmic movement of the leaves adds percussion to this morning’s serenade. The early sun is resting on the trees, coaxing the woods…