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

Love this world, she whispers.

Remind me that life is magical and mysterious.

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.

Hold fast to summer. Enjoy with heightened appreciation these still-warm September days. Create more memories, take more pictures. Enjoy a bit of denial. Suck all the summer sweetness out of your sun-warmed garden tomatoes. Smile at someone. Squeeze a hand. Put up some jam or pickles....

I invite you now into a time of meditation. You may wish to adjust your position: your feet flat on the ground, your body resting easily against the back of the chair, your hands gently open, palms up, resting on your thighs, your eyelids relaxed and half-closed, your breathing soft and easy.

Night has fallen. Stars beckon in an indigo and velvet sky Somewhere a baby is being born. Tonight, the world lazes in a love of goodness while glories stream from heaven afar God is meeting us, tonight, where we are. So be not afraid, and be of good cheer, We wish you, each and all, very Merry...

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...

From night into day, From chill into warmth, From sleep into awakening, We open our hearts to the wonder of life, Born again.

Early in the morning, before the children are awake and while the grass is still dewy, I like to walk in my garden. It’s “my” garden only because it shares the same small plot of land my family and I inhabit. The garden does not really belong to me; I belong to it—at least for the short time...

I heard the Second Brandenburg Concerto played in honor of Bach’s 300th birthday, and I was swept away. I remembered a story about the people who send messages into outer space. Someone suggested sending a piece by Bach. The reply was “But that would be bragging.” Some say we get what we...

For the wonder and inspiration We seek from sun and stars And all the lights of the heavens We light this chalice.

(adapted from the original) If, on a starlit night, with the moon brightly shimmering, We stay inside and do not venture out, the evening universe remains a part of life we shall not know....

It’s a pilgrimage, like a trek around Mount Kailash, or perhaps Bodh Gaya, but it’s life itself, the whole thing, every moment. On the high passes of Mount Kailash, pilgrims hope for a kind of death, a rebirth of spirit, and it’s not a bad thing to go there, do that, if time and money allow.

I lift my eyes up to the hills from where will my help come? My help comes from Love abundant. my help comes from the hills my help—my help, it comes from ancient Mothers whose hearts beat in mine. It comes from the trees that sway and the breeze that sways them . . . my help comes from all that...

Come into this room, weigh into this chair, breathe into this body, the very body that will be you, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part....

There once was a child who got lost in the woods. As night began to descend, the child became more and more frightened. I’m sure any of us would be frightened too, in that situation, but what made this child even more frightened, was that he had always been afraid of the dark. He was more afraid...

Poem Try to Praise the Mutilated World , by Adam Zagajewski (translated from the Polish) Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June's long days, and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the...

Like the cosmic dust following after a great Perseid meteor, we are the living remnants of time and all that has come to pass in its wake—briefly shining lights on the way to eternity. We are only visible to the naked eye for an instant. Take this moment to shine like the start dust you are. May...

Emmanuel means "God is with us." Who is your Emmanuel? Who is your "God is with us," the one you were promised, the one you have been waiting for? For the ancient prophet Isaiah, he was a boy soon to be born who would guide the people of Judah back to peace and harmony with God....