Another breath, a little flow of gratitude, a memory of dancing with abandon. My recipe for solace.

A Reflection on Doula Bags, Boffo, and the EOLD Marketplace.

February does have a way of smacking you in the head and leaving you stunned.

A short meditation on the maps we draw from existing and the importance of signing our art.

Driving home in the glimmer of a winter dusk. Death walker, story listener, a friend to stumps by the side of the road.

The doors of a nursing home should never be a barrier to good end-of-life care for the people we love. A doula can help.

dispatches from the garden of broken things

A remarkable conversation about the work and why of shrouding with documentary film maker Jan Sturman.

Like most of us navigating the troubled waters of 2021, I am struggling to stay afloat. Today I am pulling myself out of the roiled...

A stone can be held close to the heart before being buried. You can whisper your truth to it and it will carry your blessing into the earth.

Today's day at the office... was thought provoking. After a year and a half of Zoom funerals and a few small or hybrid gatherings...

I put together a short slideshow of still images from a video taped conversation between myself (in my Last Dance Shrouds hat) and...

Resolve obstacles ~ reduce suffering. In this way the world is mended.

A wind phone booth is one of those magical places that, without fail, is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.

In which a hospital stay reveals a new and hard earned evolution of emotional intelligence. We must heal the healers.

Resolve obstacles ~ reduce suffering. In this way the world is mended.

I wander out and bend into mercy, pushing away leaves to find a purple coyote amongst the detritus.

Some things just cannot be fixed. The trick is finding a way to let off the steam, learning to heal without a cure.

... he was hanging something up on a wall, pounding a nail, laughing, he looked over his shoulder at the camera. There was a spark.