
Dismiss the condition


I knew he was nervous. I was pretty sure it was going to be just fine. I had the same surgery years before and had long forgotten the haunting thoughts of them cutting on my eyes, but I could see the worry in his. I understood.
Continue reading Gershwin in the NightMeditation Gathering: December 26, 2025 and January 7, 2026
We came together in the in-between time between this year and next, between Christmas and the day of Epiphany (the day the wise men delivered gifts to the baby Jesus), or on a more personal soul level, living in the mystery and wonder of what is yet unresolved or unknown.
Continue reading Living in the In-between
I am practicing pulling down a compassionate shade between me and my self-criticism.
When “that” old worn-out, familiar thought of being not-enough or too-much barrels into my head, I imagine a shade separating me from the unloving voice of old stories and past regrets.
Imagine my surprise when one day, as I pictured tugging that yellowing cream-colored cracking roller-shade into place, this word was revealed: Magnificent!
I now practice separating from negative thoughts AND saying, “I am magnificent.” Isn’t that a hoot? Is that allowed? Heck, yes it is. It’s about time.-theresa

It was All Saints Day 2012 when I first saw this sapling, took her photo, and discovered the purple light while reviewing my pictures at the end of the day. She became what I designated as Trudy’s Tree – my memorial to my sweet sister who had died that January. Each year adding another rock, a small cross created from sloughed-off tree bark, and eventually more rocks contributed by friends also visiting the monastery river walk.
Continue reading Heart for All
“Look deeply,” She whispered. “The day is almost done, but there is more – yet a little more beauty for you to enjoy.”

I am finding my pace here.
Morning walks with a glad heart,
no shoulds of shaping a different me
Cool, dry air inviting,
no heavy, moisture-laden blankets weighing me down
Nature every which way I look - geese, egrets, magpies, frantic swarms of gnats dancing in the hottest hours of the day,
and two of the littlest fawns I have ever seen;
even a small birdie flies into our house. I rescue her with my hat,
and return her to her home of everywhere - no walls or restrictions of a 180 degree life.
And God.
Yes, God.
Always God.
Walking with me.
Watching with me.
Pointing out to me the more subtle spider-web-weave on junipers, then,
reminding me that to think,
with broken heart,
of the unthinkable losses so many are facing this morning,
is prayer.
Is Love.
It is all just so heartbreaking. I wish there was more to do. I pray for a blanket of Love to comfort all who are suffering.