hope for change

I want us to have a culture where teens don’t drink to black out or to where they tell themselves that it’s ok to harm another person, where women are not punished for speaking up, where neither boys nor girls nor men nor women tolerate rape or domestic violence or discrimination or hatred.

dish prayer

Beloved, thank you for these dirty dishes.
Thank you that I have hands to wash the dishes.
Thank you that I have water, clean water, hot water and soap.
Thank you that I have a sponge and a sink.
Thank you that I have a home, that it has not burned or flooded or been destroyed by war.
Thank you that I had food to feed my family and my self, to dirty these dishes.
Thank you that I have food to put on clean dishes today and tomorrow.
Please, Beloved, help me bring food to those who need it, clean water, soap, dishes, homes.
Please, Beloved, open our hearts to others in need.
Thank you, Beloved, for these dirty dishes that now are clean and for the circle of life they represent, clean to dirty to clean again.


The Olympic Peninsula only has one wild fire currently, but the sunset last night was lit by smoke.

prayer for the gentle

Oh small gentle heart, small self, young one. May I listen to you, may I hold you close, may I let your innocent heart be open and joyful, may I not fear contact with others. May I let you open. May I open without fear or in spite of fear. May I be generous and kind. May I listen with you, oh gentle self, and may I hear the gentle self of others: the gentle self of a friend, of a loved one, of an acquaintance, of a stranger, and even of those who have hurt me. May I have no enemies. May my heart shine with your glory, oh small gentle heart, small self, young one. May I stay connected with you, open to you and open through you to the Beloved, to all beings and all things.

Blessings and thank you, Beloved.


For the weekly prompt: satisfaction.



For Blogging from A to Z: letter P in my virtues and views theme

I wrote this after a run in 2002. My mother had died of cancer in May of 2000 and I was struggling with grief and reevaluating my life. I really did sing to an eagle and lose track of the footprints I was following. At the end of the run I thought that I could be in grief, like the rocks and the water. Even if no one else was there, the waves and the rocks were still present, I could put my hands on them, the feeling of wet and cold grounded me and made me feel less lost.

Prayer to a rock

I went running
along the sunny beach
and ran into shadow

I kept running even though
there was beach with sun
because the shadow felt right
I ran towards a dead snag
Huge rocks were scattered on the beach

I stopped and placed my palms on one
And asked the rock to take away my grief
And then though, no, that wasn’t right
I asked the rock to lend me its strength during grief
I ran on

I took some comfort that there were
footprints in the sand
Someone had preceded me

I ran to the snag
an eagle sat on top
I sang America the Beautiful
to the eagle
and bowed
when I looked again
the eagle soared, wings spread, out of sight

I turned to run back
and now there were only my footprints
I thought I’d imagined the other set
in my grief
Then I passed the woman and her dog
who now were tracing my footsteps
I had passed them
I ran within my grief
I let it rise
and dissipate

I stopped twice more at rocks
One to change my prayer again
ask the rock to inspire me with its strength
Once to thank the rocks

I passed from the shadow
again into the light