According to an old Native American legend, one day there was a big fire in the forest. All the animals fled in terror in all directions, because it was a very violent fire. Suddenly, the jaguar saw a hummingbird pass over his head, but in the opposite direction. The hummingbird flew towards the fire!

Whatever happened, he wouldn't stop. Moments later, the jaguar saw him pass again, this time in the same direction as the jaguar was walking. He could observe this coming and going, until he decided to ask the bird about it, because it seemed very bizarre behavior.

"What are you doing, hummingbird?" he asked.

"I am going to the lake," he answered, "I drink water with my beak and throw it on the fire to extinguish it." The jaguar laughed. 'Are you crazy? Do you really think that you can put out that big fire on your own with your very small beak?'

'No,' said the hummingbird, 'I know I can't. But the forest is my home. It feeds me, it shelters me and my family. I am very grateful for that. And I help the forest grow by pollinating its flowers. I am part of her and the forest is part of me. I know I can't put out the fire, but I must do my part.'

At that moment, the forest spirits, who listened to the hummingbird, were moved by the bird and its devotion to the forest, miraculously they sent a torrential downpour, which put an end to the great fire.

The Native American grandmothers would occasionally tell this story to their grandchildren, then conclude with, "Do you want to attract miracles into your life? Do your part."

“You have no responsibility to save the world or find the solutions to all problems—but to attend to your particular personal corner of the universe. As each person does that, the world saves itself.’"

Author unknown
Art by Laron

Misty days are their own kind of beauty.

After over a month of complete closures in all of NC, a few sections of the Blue Ridge Parkway opened this week. Yesterday, I've heard, it was absolutely packed with folks turning out in force to see the colors. I hope everyone got what they were looking for. We all deserve it, after the month we've had.

I wasn't able to get up there till today, and it was quite an adventure getting there. It was rainy from the moment we set out, but I don't mind.

At 5500 feet of elevation on a day like this, you're not gonna see much beyond the edge of trees. It's not just foggy: You're literally in the clouds.

This kept most people away. We saw ONE other car during the hour or so we were on the parkway (it took 1.5 hours to get to the section we wanted to see, due to closures and detours, and 1.5 hours to get back... worth it).

What they missed, though!

It always feels to me like I'm in a 3D rendered environment where they haven't bothered to render beyond the forest I'm immediately occupying. It feels magical and otherworldly. Like everything has faded away, and it's just you, and these trees.

I especially love these mountains above about 5000 feet of elevation (Asheville, for comparison, is at 2100-ish; the highest point east of the Mississippi, which is Mt. Mitchell, is at 6400-ish), where the landscape turns to spruce forest, and you start to see species of plants and animals that are typically only found in Canada, or nowhere else at all, and you feel like you've entered a whole other country.

It's this way because the glaciers pushed Canadian species and ecosystems down this way in the last ice age, and then those at high enough elevations stayed behind, creating ecological islands that are unique in all the world. Some species have evolved in these "islands" into varieties that can be found nowhere else.

(All of this is at risk from climate change, btw, the sad counterpoint to all nature love stories these days, the grief weighed in the other hand.)

I'm so grateful to live in a time when these magical landscapes still live, still thrive. A place where I can drive an hour, or an hour and a half, and find myself in a place out of time and memory, a mystical, misty-cal world apart.

It is my fondest hope that we will find a way to reclaim our relationship with these special places through our care for all our relations. Maybe, if we love them hard enough, we can save them, and ourselves in the process.

~ Fen Druadìn

"You're never far from a bright, shining star
when Elfin glows in your heart."

— quote by The Silver Elves
Art by illustrator Rhaevyn Hart

Breakage
by Mary Oliver

I go down to the edge of the sea.
How everything shines in the morning light!
The cusp of the whelk,
the broken cupboard of the clam,
the opened, blue mussels,
moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred—
and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split,
dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone.
It's like a schoolhouse
of little words,
thousands of words.
First you figure out what each one means by itself,
the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop
full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

* * *

Image: "What form she pleased each thing would take that e’er she did behold" (1920), from "The Book of Fairy Poetry", illustrated by Warwick Goble (1862-1943)

Sorrow prepares you for joy.
It violently sweeps everything out of your house,
so that new joy can find space to enter.
It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart,
so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place.
It pulls up the rotten roots,
so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow.
Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart,
far better things will take their place.

~ Rumi

Art by Odilon Redon, (1896)

Solitude is a reminder that sometimes, stepping away from the buzz, the constant connections, the stimulation overload is not just a luxury, but a necessity to be brighter and stronger than before.

Solitude isn’t about isolation or loneliness.
It’s a sacred space,
It’s a place where you can shed the layers you wear for the world, be completely yourself, and reconnect with your deepest needs and desires. It’s like taking off a mask and letting your true face breathe.

And remember, coming back from solitude isn’t about retreating from the world forever. It’s about returning with renewed energy, a clearer perspective, and a deeper understanding of yourself.

Lalah Delia
Art : Corine Ko

We all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand.

But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, for God’s sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and youth, and because the magic we knew made them ashamed and sad of what they’d allowed to wither in themselves.

~ Robert R. McCammon

She didn’t dream of a huge mansion; she longed for a cozy log cabin tucked away in the quiet, where they could grow old together. A place where their only neighbors were the trees, the birds would serenade them awake, and the stars would watch over them each night as they slept.

She didn’t need a perfectly manicured garden; she craved a space where wildflowers grew freely, reflecting her untamed spirit. A place where she could feel the earth beneath her bare feet, bond with the animals, and gather around a fire to share stories.

She didn’t desire a life of constant hustle and pressure; she yearned for a life of peaceful contentment. A life where she had time to savor the scent of flowers, admire the beauty of the setting sun, and hear the whispers of her heart.

She wasn’t chasing grand things; she wanted small, meaningful moments. Moments that stirred her soul, filled her heart with joy, and reminded her that love was all she needed.

" I am no one special. Just a common man with common thoughts.
I've led a common life.
There are no monuments dedicated to me,
and my name will soon be forgotten.
But in one respect, I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived :
I've loved another with all my heart and soul;
and to me, this has always been enough."

From the " City of Angels" ...Film (1998)

To the Woman Questioning Her Own Strength

To the woman who gazes around and wonders why others seem so much more capable, so much stronger, so much more ambitious than she feels. To the woman who sees everyone blazing a fiery trail through life while she feels as though she’s limping along, barely making it through each day.

Know this: somewhere, another woman is looking at you and thinking the very same thing.

We all appear to have it together from the outside. On the right day, we seem like we have it all under control. But truthfully, we’ve perfected the art of masking our struggles behind a smile. We’ve learned to don a brave face and push through, even when the weight of it all feels overwhelming.

When we show up, just as we are—warts and all, late, flustered, and beautifully human—we’re doing each other a favor. We need to see that beneath the polished exterior, we are all the same. We all face struggles, we all have moments where we fall apart. Some days we thrive, and other days we stumble.

Hiding our fears and weaknesses only gives them more power. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and shine a light on our insecurities, they become less daunting, even laughable. And oh, how we need to find reasons to laugh.

So, to the woman who wonders if she’s enough—let me assure you: Yes, you are. You always have been. You don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations of how you should be coping. You are human, flawed, wonderful, miraculous, and deeply loved.

I see you, and now I hope you’ll see others in the same light. Let’s spread the word: We are enough, just as we are.

Emerging from the shadows of survival, a soul awakens to a profound yearning for truth and genuine connection. The journey from mere existence to truly living ignites an insatiable hunger for honesty and the raw beauty of authenticity.

Each step towards clarity of mind and self-discovery has been a battle hard-fought, leaving scars both visible and hidden. The price paid in tears, sweat, and countless sleepless nights has been steep, yet the reward - a glimpse of one's true essence - is priceless.

Now, standing on the precipice of healing, this reborn spirit guards its newfound clarity fiercely. Like a delicate flame sheltered from harsh winds, it cannot risk exposure to those who would carelessly extinguish its light.

The heart, once battered but now slowly mending, beats with a rhythm that demands respect for its journey. It whispers a solemn vow: to engage only with those who honor the sacred path of healing, who recognize the courage it takes to shed survival's armor and stand vulnerably in one's truth.

For in this vulnerability lies strength, in this authenticity lies freedom, and in this honesty lies the key to a life fully lived, no longer merely survived.

"A Soul's Awakening" by Etheric Echoes
Painting: "Healing the Brokenhearted" by Janice VanCronkhite

I’ve found myself thinking “I couldn’t go through this again.”

But when I think about it -
I mean, really think about it –
that’s not true.

If I had my time again…

I would know you again.

I would love you again.

And if that meant I would lose you again,
I would still do it.

Because this is hard.

But,
whilst I think I couldn’t do it again,
the alternative is never knowing you.

Never loving you.

And that is even more painful than this.

And that’s how I know I’ll be ok. In the end.
Because I know that my love – our love – is stronger than my loss.

Because I know that I would lose you all over again.

As long as I had the opportunity
to love you.

"Again", by Becky Hemsley from the book "When I Am Gone"
Painting by Paula Jones

I love listening to the rain pitter pattering on the hood of my coat.
I love watching storms dance around the sky from behind a window.
I love feeling the warmth of the sun when I’m sitting in the shade.
And I love hearing the waves crash against the rocks when I’m a mile away from the shore.

I love being reminded how the world lives so loudly, so proudly. That it crashes and falls and burns. And yet, it never fails to get back up and dance.

Yes, I love being reminded that the world is so completely, unapologetically alive.
As long as I’m sheltered and safe.
And I think that’s how we should love others.

I think we should show them how spectacular it is to be alive. What it means to truly see and hear and feel and thrive in this world.
But we should also be their safe space.

So they know that,
if they fall,
if they crash and burn,

there is always someone in their corner
helping them get back up
to dance.

*****

Becky Hemsley (2023)
Art by Jungsuk Lee

This poem is from my collection "Letters from Life": https://a.co/d/gr535c0

There are so many things I have discovered since I had to go.

And I want to share this one with you - I want to let you in on the secret.

You see, I know you feel a sudden pull of emotions sometimes. Those moments when you lose composure and losing me hits you afresh all over again. And it might be at seemingly trivial, inconsequential times like when you’re brushing your teeth or getting into the car for work. Or at 2.30pm on any given Wednesday.

And you won’t really know why but you will suddenly remember me. Not that you’ll have forgotten me, but that I am - in that moment - all you can think about.

Overwhelmingly so.

Well, here’s the secret; that’s because of our heartstrings.
We are connected to everyone we love by invisible, unbreakable threads. And when one of us misses the other person, we only need to pull on those heartstrings to bring them a little closer to us.

Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes we grab desperately at the thread like a life buoy in a storm and our string is pulled so abruptly that it burns.

But it never breaks.

And I just wanted you to know this. So that you can be comforted by knowing that, in the moments when you suddenly miss me the most…

It’s because I am missing you too.

*****

Becky Hemsley (2023)
Artwork by Jim Tsinganos

‘Heartstrings’ is from "When I am Gone"
https://a.co/d/7kMndDJ

Grief is unpredictable, it comes in stages,
in the blink of an eye, our whole world changes.
To deal with the loss, we search for a way,
to help us get through, each harrowing day.

Denial, the first stage, is one of disbelief,
we have no idea, how to deal with this grief.
Caught off guard and so unprepared, with no real plan, clearly in sight,
we must endeavour to stay strong and hold on tight.

Anger, comes next, the second stage,
the unfairness of it all, sends us into a rage.
The suffering the pain, it took its toll on you,
we really hoped, that you could have pulled through.

Bargaining, the third stage, could it have gone, another way?
If this was the case, you would still be here today.
What we would give, to change the outcome,
was there anything different, we could have done?

Depression, another stage, full of sorrow and woe,
debilitating and overwhelming, a painful blow.
The fear and the anguish is a frightening ordeal,
which takes its toll, whether imagined or real.

Acceptance, the final stage, helps us bear, this heavy cross,
as we try to find meaning in our lives and make sense of the loss.
Life for us has changed and is not the same, without you,
but with acceptance now, we will try to push through.

There is no direct path, we each find our own way,
to navigate the pain and get through each day.
Some stages of grief, we will repeat,
stepping in and out of each, in this gigantic feat.

Through all these stages, we will continue to evolve,
searching for comfort and in time, some resolve.
'One day at a time' is all we can do,
as we try to endure, this life without you.

~ 'Navigating Grief' by Mary Anne Byrne
~ Art by Jeanie Tomanek

The thing about grief is
it can never fully go away,
it greets me with
every new milestone
it grates at my heart
with every missed conversation.

A lifetime of “I love you”s
overflowing and overwhelming.

The hug I long for,
the advice I needed
the scars that time
simply can’t smooth over.

“I miss you”
pulsates in the background
of my days.
A frequency that goes unheard
by most of the people around me.

Sometimes static
and sometimes strong
and demanding attention
the grief dials in and drives home
the pain of such permanence
the ache of such an absence.

But as long as there’s grief
I will endure it
because it means
that you were here
and that it mattered.

As long as grief is here,
I will endure it.

As long as grief is here,
We will endure it.

~ Liz Newman

Don't leave anything for later.
Later, the coffee gets cold.
Later, you lose interest.
Later, the day turns into night.
Later, people grow up.
Later, people grow old.
Later, life goes by.
Later, you regret not doing something...
When you had the chance.

Life is a fleeting dance, a delicate balance of moments that unfold before us, never to return in quite the same way again.

Regret is a bitter pill to swallow, a weight that bears down upon the soul with the burden of missed chances and unspoken words.

So, let us not leave anything for later. Let us seize the moments as they come, with hearts open and arms outstretched to embrace the possibilities that lie before us. For in the end, it is not the things we did that we regret, but the things we left undone, the words left unspoken, the dreams left unfulfilled.

~ Toshikazu Kawaguchi,
from the book 'Before the Coffee Gets Cold', (2015)

Painting "Elfin Song" (1912) by Florence Emma Harrison

BE THE HERO YOU ARE LOOKING FOR

The brightest light is found within the heart of those ordinary folk who live their lives as if nothing changes for them.

Deep inside they often have the purest kind love. The type of love so naturally present as to BE their entire life experience.

These ones, we call ‘the Earth Angels’… gentle, giving, thoughtful, kind .. they simply know, no other way.

Our neighbour, or Mrs Smith from down the road, the man behind the local shop counter, the person running the coffee cart, or the courier .. beautiful ones who remind us what love looks like.

~ Janine Savient

° ° ° ° ° ° °

“Here's to the bridge-builders, the hand-holders, the light-bringers, those extraordinary souls wrapped in ordinary lives who quietly weave threads of humanity into an inhumane world. They are the unsung heroes in a world at war with itself. They are the whisperers of hope that peace is possible. Look for them in this present darkness. Light your candle with their flame. And then go. Build bridges. Hold hands. Bring light to a dark and desperate world. Be the hero you are looking for. Peace is possible. It begins with us." 

"Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time

For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time

For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it's time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time'"

* * *

~ Sandy Denny Lyrics "Who knows where the time goes"

Illustration by Jane Newland

The way you look at things is not simply a private matter. Your outlook actually and concretely affects what goes on. When you give in to helplessness, you collude with despair and add to it. When you take back your power and choose to see the possibilities for healing and transformation, your creativity awakens and flows to become an active force of renewal and encouragement in the world. In this way, even in your own hidden life, you can become a powerful agent of transformation in a broken, darkened world. There is a huge force field that opens when intention focuses and directs itself toward transformation.

~ JOHN O'DONOHUE

Excerpt from his books, "Benedictus" (Europe) / "To Bless the Space Between Us" (US)
Ordering Info: https://johnodonohue.com/store

Lahinch, Co Clare, Ireland
Photo: © Ann Cahill