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a bowl of weeks
By
Britton Gildersleeve
Remember how I told you last week that I was trying to be more mindful of time passing? And about reading in Lewis Richmond’s Aging as a Spiritual Practice that his mentor had put pebbles in a bowl, to represent the weeks ahead? Well, a trip to Amazon supplied the ‘pebbles’ — gemstone chips were actually…
ode to nieces and nephews
By
Britton Gildersleeve
Here you have them: three of my much-loved, and absolutely perfect nieces & nephews. These are my heart-sister’s daughter & son, and my niece’s husband. With them? Their beaming aunt, who is even prouder of the adults they’ve become than she was of their childhood projects & accomplishments. My niece, her beloved, and my nephew drove in just to…
pebbles, weeks, and mortality
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I’m reading a book I suspect I will re-read as soon as I finish it, Lewis Richmond’s Aging as a Spiritual Practice. Like another book I finish, then lay on my table to re-read for the umpteenth time (Rachel Naomi Remen’s Kitchen Table Wisdom), each time I re-read a page, it blooms differently. The way…
sisters
By
Britton Gildersleeve
This weekend is the 2nd annual sisters weekend. And I am more grateful for my sisters this year than ever. I have three — not to mention the several heart-sisters I also claim. They are all as integral to my happiness as my sight, my hearing. Each contributes her own spark to the fire that…
cat helpers
By
Britton Gildersleeve
This is my cat Hector, trying to help me think. He’s good at this — I don’t actually think, but he does help. Which I suppose is something. As even my flaky horoscope noted the other day, I’ve been needing to ‘recharge.’ Hector helps with that. Because even poets know that ‘Excess is the common…
wanted: the perfect house to become a home
By
Britton Gildersleeve
This is the house I identify with childhood, on the left side of this giant ‘duplex,’ with the giant screened porches upstairs. It’s a villa, with a postage-stamp yard, from when my family lived in ViệtNam. This house — so Eurasian, not American at all — imprinted for me what ‘house’ looks like. There were 3…
cultural burdens, with homage to Carol Emarthle-Douglas
By
Britton Gildersleeve
This may be the most moving piece of art I’ve seen in many many months. When it came across my FB feed today (via Indian Country), I caught my breath. I grew up in “Indian Country,” which is what too many of the wrong people call Oklahoma. Friends, boyfriends, and family were Indian. We didn’t have…
silver linings
By
Britton Gildersleeve
For those d’un certain âge, the Rolling Stones said it best: You can’t always get what you want/But if you try sometimes you just might find/You get what you need. In other words? The whole silver lining thingie. Because the problem (of course there’s a problem!) is that we don’t always see a silver lining. Maybe it’s…
the impulse to art
By
Britton Gildersleeve
This, my friends, is art. And better than anything else I can think of, it demonstrates our deep-set need to create beauty. The Dalai Lama says that any profession – every profession – will be a calling to 1/3 of its workers. I would bet being a barista is just that to Kazuki Yamamoto: a…
cleaning house, reprised
By
Britton Gildersleeve
As we come closer to moving — even though we no longer have a house under contract, nor do we know when we’ll find one! — I’m getting ever more serious about ‘cleaning house.’ Which means that we emptied the storage unit. We cleaned out the attic. And I’m through all the easy passes on my (numerous)…
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