Loving Hands, by Jerry CaruthersThe Architecture of Beginnings
We are born with maps written in our skin, a geography of lines that have not yet been traveled. There is a profound silence in the way a new life holds onto the air, a grip that is both a question and a promise. We spend our later years trying…
The Weight of the Seasons
I spent this morning trying to clear out my closet, pulling out sweaters I haven't touched since last year. It is strange how we hold onto things, waiting for the exact right temperature to justify their return. I found a scarf I bought on…
The Earth’s Quiet Turning
There is a rhythm to the turning of the year that asks us to slow our own pace to match it. We often think of change as a sudden event, a sharp line drawn between what was and what will be. But nature knows the truth of the transition—a slow,…