Letting Go of the Past
Grief in all of its forms is essential to a healthy life in this fragile world. But fiercely and stubbornly clinging to singular events and losses in the past is not so much grief as it is a kind of “stuckness” that truly limits the gift of our present life.
Read MoreThe Glove in the Subway
A one-paragraph newspaper article describes a subway platform during the morning rush hour at Grand Central Terminal. A train pulls in; a well-dressed woman gets off. Before the doors close, the woman realizes that she is holding only one of her leather gloves.
Read MoreLetting Go of What We Don’t Have
Oh, letting go. Every so often a minister has to preach on something that is absolutely not a personal strength. And this is one of those times. I’m not a letter-go; I’m an attacher and a holder-on. I hold onto people and relationships I love.
Read MoreThe Roots We Choose (Excerpt)
We don’t get a say in the roots we inherit, even as they stretch beneath the surface of our daily lives and contain within them countless stories of danger and survival and elation and heartbreak that inform our living in ways we understand and ways we do not.
Read MoreRemember
Remember the sky that you were born under,know each of the star’s stories. Remember the moon, know who she is.
Read MoreA Unitarian Christmas
Each year the American Family Association (AFA) publishes a “naughty or nice” list. Companies who use Merry Christmas in their advertisements and holiday displays are on the nice list.
Read MoreThe Gift of Receiving
I used to have a hard time letting people do anything for me. I’d work on my own house, repair my own car—I will admit, in years gone by that was largely because I couldn’t afford to pay anyone.
Read MoreReceiving
When I was three or four, my older brother Kevin was in kindergarten. He got to do so many interesting things, while I stayed home.
Read MoreA Gratuitous Duck
Maybe I don’t get out much. But I have always heard the word gratuitous associated with “gratuitous sex and violence” in movies I don’t want to see.
Read MoreGerda’s Raspberry
I stopped at the Holocaust Memorial, something I had previously walked quickly past. Names of hundreds of thousands of survivors towered over me, neatly written on giant plexiglass monuments.
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