“My will is to live!” I shouted from the mountaintop, naked in the storm, rain hammering down, thunder shaking the air, lightning striking all around me. “My sincere will is to live! Yet my life is, as always, in Your hands!”

What is life truly about?

Poetic prose. A tender seaside moment between mother and child unfolds into a quiet lesson on our inner voice and connection — a lyrical reflection on the unseen bonds that unite us with nature and one another.

Sitting on a bench behind the summer house I carefully opened the bag I had placed the bird’s body in. There he was, that poor little thing. For a split second, I remembered how I almost had to peel what was left of him off the car, his little heart sticking out very noticeably. I thought for a moment whether I should keep his heart, accept it as a sacred gift. But no. It felt right to bury it with the remains of his body. But I kept his wing. His left wing, which had ...

My wish for us is that our passionate drive for creating does not come from a craving for individual recognition, or sense of ownership, but from a humbler place from within the heart, the Compassionate Cosmic Heart, where we know we need each other’s unique gifts to be able to thrive and blossom as Individuals of Oneness, on our beautiful Mother planet.

"Ultimately we may come to a point where the paths have become layers, layers that may have started to inhibit us, like being dressed in too much clothing, which restrains our movements. Then the many different belief systems have started getting all mixed up, like threads getting tangled up in a knot, or around us, and we simply get stuck."

A Lyrical Healing Piece ~ This is a story drawn from my own life. It traces a thread in my spiritual journey of empowerment, of vulnerability, spirit, and soft strength, moving from the liminal space of healing after acute leukemia toward the threshold of rejoining the world. Told in the third person, I offer it as a companion for those walking their own tender crossings in life, where newness, whether in form or energy, seeks emergence. ~ How was it even possible that she wa