Here in the Midwest, fall has been mild, dry and warm. I’ve loved the opportunity to be outside in the sunshine, breathing in the smells – the pungency of falling leaves, the earthiness of fields after harvest, the sweetness of crushed overripe apples, and grilled goodness at the football tailgate gathering. I’ve dug roots, hung seed heads, spread leaves to dry for tea. Sometimes, I step outside just to breathe in the richness of the breezes that come before the start of winter. As I watch the gradual fall of leaves, search for the last of the tomatoes on the vines, and say goodbye to my potted annuals, I am touched by sadness. I spend my days immersed in the...
Many years ago, when I worked for a large corporation, I stumbled across a poet, who had made this amazing connection between poetry and the preservation of the soul in corporate America. At the time, I was on a search for how to express the energy of my soul in my work as an information technology designer. I knew that my occupation provided security – a good income, a 401K, a health insurance plan, yet there was always something missing for me. I began to feel that something was wrong about me, and I was confused by David’s message - work can be immensely fulfilling when you face your fears and follow your dreams. Several years ago, I had the...
Evolution: the gradual development of something, especially from a simple to a more complex form. Last week I was fortunate enough to ride my bike across the state of Nebraska, the state where I live. While that may not be on the top of everyone's list, it is an annual occurrence for me - a week of riding and testing my physical and emotional endurance, along with my spirit. My first ride was 11 years ago, after I had recovered from brain surgery. I wasn't sure that I'd ever fully regain my balance, and I was so inspired by Lance Armstrong's story that I fixed my sights on an epic bicycle ride, just a little shorter in duration than the...
The prairie has a never-ending appeal for me. A place to be in the present, although the past swirls around me. The footsteps of ancients, I cross their paths and see what they see. The moving wave of vegetation dotted with tall compass sentinels. The gurgle of a glacial stream running beside a new yet old trail. I may hear voices speaking softly in an unknown language, yet some part of it I understand. "This is where we belong, the land that provides for us. We will always be here. You must know this."I'm here to lead an herb walk through this beautiful space. To a group of knowledgeable master naturalists. I feel the gnawing of my inadequacy - how...
Our belief system can limit us, or it can set us free to experience our own limitlessness. OK, stay with me on this, dear reader. You might be like me. Growing up, I believed that tea was something made with hot water and a tea bag. Tea, as defined by Webster, is a drink made by infusing, or soaking, the dried leaves of an Asian plant, Camellia sinensis, in hot water. My mother had a tea revelation at some point in my growing up, and started to introduce many different types of teas into our pantry, some flavored with aromatic spices and herbs. I left for college, accompanied by my love for coffee, while tea was demoted to a weaker...
