For Which My Heart Is Yearning

In the busyness of the the day, I forget that I am soul and spirit. I move, like a machine, through the mechanics of my life: Head turning at a sudden cry, arms lifting baby, voice humming softly like a washing machine. Fingers folding laundry, hands scrubbing muffin pans, feet moving through rooms, ears listening,…

Living with Vision

I am up early this morning, before the little ones. ┬áIn my closet-office (where I sit in a corner at a small desk, typing this under a rack of hanging clothes), I am armed with a steaming mug of Darjeeling tea, a couple of Cinnamon-Orange-Almond-Spelt muffins, and the promise of a glorious uninterrupted hour of…