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By Mary Rose O’Reilley When I imagine my soul I think of a bear, shambling across tundra. I think she’s escaped from a circus, the

Last May, my husband and I bought our first new car—a Nissan Leaf. It’s all electric, no gasoline. We use it for almost all of

Wonderful Spoken Word Poetry by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye. For a set of coincidences that blew me away, check out the first question on

A recurring motif in my dreamscape is that I’m trying to find a seat in a theater or outdoor auditorium. Often the only ones available

By Rumi Translated by Coleman Barks Why doesn’t a soul fly when it hears the call? Fish on the beach always move toward wave-sound.

The other night I dreamed of two young pigs, which I don’t think I’ve ever done before. One was mostly black, the other mostly pink,

Mary Oliver reads ‘Tom Dance’s Gift of a White Bark Pinecone,’ ‘Wild Geese,’ and ‘Peonies.’

One of the associations that always rings a bell for me when footwear or bare feet appear in my dreams is that this is about

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It heartened me that this country voted from a place of compassion this last election. Obama’s agenda leans more toward helping those in need of