by lori | Apr 29, 2021 | Acceptance, Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Content, Culture Shift, Essays, Flash, Getting Lost, Gratitude, Grief, Neighbors, Pain, Pandemic, Poetry, Respite, Stillness, Strength in Real Life, Unapologetically Odd, Uncategorized, Wayfinding, Women, Writing
1. Our flags always fly at half-mast now.Wide and unhealed wounds on high for the world to seeflap dripping loss and pus rains down into the public square. Below themwhite men, whips still in handand a few hard-yoked women, their heads downplodding alongfacing only... by lori | Apr 7, 2016 | Beauty, Culture Shift, Here and now, Love, Neighbors, Poetry
the old man up the hill tends the garden of the woman next door the woman behind us up the hill donates supplies to schools the woman who lives beside her takes her sick dog for very slow, sunny walks to sniff the life from dewy blades of grass while ailing pup still... by lori | Nov 11, 2011 | Community, Recognizing, Recognizing, Self-organizing groups
This large-ish question appeared on my radar this week. Thank you, Lori Schilling, for meeting with me Wednesday and your willingness to tell your story and have a delightful conversation with someone new. It was from our conversation that this question emerged for...