People who aren't neurodiverse tend to frame neurodiversity as symptoms of inconvenience to people around them. For me, my ADHD means beauty.

Remind me that life is magical and mysterious.

Since I was a kid, I have had a penchant and passion for my touch on my body. This was sometimes shameful, sometimes wonderful, and deeply private from fairly early on, as I received messages from family and neighbors that it wasn’t “right.” It has only been as an adult, as i have witnessed...

I hope that this Great Silence, which has come alongside the suffering, holds the beginnings of our healing.

Feel that? Each breath, every inhale, exhale We are living, breathing, connected. We are the whole, complete, beautiful selves that we were born to be. Feel that? In your bones, in your muscles In your heart and your blood That is the extraordinary you. The you who was born for this time, this...

Pleasure reminds us to enjoy being alive and on purpose... Pleasure—embodied, connected pleasure—is one of the way we know when we are free. That we are always free. That we always have the power to co-create the world. Pleasure helps us move through the times that are unfair, through grief and...

Surround yourself with skillful teachers. Let them teach you, but don't let them do it for you. That learning is yours to do.

This opening was written for two voices, as indicated below. 1: Welcome, who come in friendship who long for genuine community... 2: May you be graciously received here as your authentic self. 1: Welcome, who come in curiosity, full of questions or simply open... 2: May you embrace wonder and...

Perhaps for a moment the typewriters will stop clicking, the wheels stop rolling the computers desist from computing, and a hush will fall over the city....

We can be cheerleaders for simple joys (even when we don't share them) and compassionate about the fact that we’re all just trying to survive.

It is deeply spiritual work to learn to treat ourselves with compassion; to learn to see ourselves, if only in moments, the same way we look at something or someone we find beautiful: a newborn baby, the ocean, a sunset.

Let our lives be a prayer That waters dry souls Mends broken hearts Refuses to be terrorized Seeks this world’s beauty And carries us through its storms.

Within the heart of the flower, the fountain of beauty Within the heart of the community, a fire that warms and dances Within the heart of each of us, a spark of the spirit of life. Holy, holy, holy.

However imperfectly I may be living this life of mine, there’s no one better at it, and there’s no one else who can do it for me.

My heart broke the day my son stood in the bathroom crying. He handed me a pair of scissors and told me to just cut it. I told him how beautiful his hair was and how sad I would be to see him cut it.

For the setting sun from an airplane window; for the rising sun from a train window after riding all night; for the rising sun and setting sun in directions that feel foreign; for the sunlight even when we are lost. For the times the heart has longed to be alone. For the times the heart has ached...

The blasphemy of body hatred has no place in this temple.

Now has come hard winter, With whip of wind and slash of snow and the diamond-bright stars in the black ice of the heavens. Just as we resist the season with shovel and scraper, wool and windbreaker, we embrace it with sled and snowboard, cocoa and comforter. Winter is here: let us find warmth in...

Our light is the light of the sun, keeper of all we love; our light is the light of the earth, provider of sustenance; our light is the light of all living things, life precious like our own....

No hot house flowers, these, bred for perfection, dyed and trimmed, and arranged to order, clothed in ribbons and bows. Not these. No, these are hardy, raw and wild. Grown under the sky, they’ve weathered the wind and the rain and the heat. These drew nutrients from the neighborhood soil and...