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beyond the looking glass

{I wrote this in response to a prompt about how we all have different selves that reside inside of us, and sometimes we leave ourselves. So this is me talking to a younger me that left in the midst of personal, spiritual, and relational tragedy.} 375 more words

Agnostic

ISIS and Abortion

Abortion’s the terrorism
Polluting our land,
Abortion our Isis
We must take a stand.

Babies are dying,
We’re not doing enough
To stop the massacre, 187 more words

Life

C.S. Lewis

For the most part, I am an open book. There’s little you can ask me that I won’t answer honestly.

Yes, in the past I’ve answered “How are you?” with “Fine” when I wasn’t really fine. 210 more words

Infant Loss

WWOW: A Hike in the Woods

Looking up into the fine line of tree tops and skies remind me of life hikes that go into deep places. Today I find myself looking for answers to questions related to soul and spirit as I start my walk in my own “neighbor-wood” I am walking with heaviness after the death of several friends, so I guess I am just on a hike looking for my WWOW so I will feel better. 28 more words

#wysWaysofWellness

Light at the end of the Tunnel

I went for a walk this morning on the River’s Edge Trail, which runs along the bank of the Missouri River.  The leaves were glowing a brilliant yellow and several birds flew ahead of me along the way – a magpie, a robin and a chickadee.   584 more words

Grief

"Last Station Before The Bridge"

My father was Scottish. I have a slightly distant relationship with the land of my ancestors however, born in England and brought up abroad. Yet now and then, when time is slow and the mist clears, some memories float to the surface, little bursts of tartan emotion, cultural connections of storytelling and imagination, stretched taut like the gossamer of a spider’s web.   252 more words

Andrew Reid Wildman