Maria Edgeworth on Opening Heart to Heart
The human heart,
at whatever age,
opens only to the heart
that opens in return.”
~Maria Edgeworth~
Similar Posts
“Waiting (Wind of Change),” a poem by Janet Grace Riehl
In just a few days I’m making a huge move in my life and where I live. I’ll be moving from Lake County in Northern California to St. Louis, Missouri where I’ll just be an hour away from my father. Pop, 91, lives just across the river in SW Illinois, about 6 miles upriver from…
Power of Witnessing (life/death/life)
Watching Northfork again recently, I was moved by Nick Nolte’s testimony to the power of witnessing in one of the DVD extras. Nolte said he felt witnessing is what gives meaning to our lives. Nolte sat with his mother during her last four days, and watched her die–helped her die, by witnessing her death. From…
Prayer: A History
Philip and Carol Zaleski have done a marvelous thing in Prayer: A History…they have brought prayer to our doorstep and into our bedroom, back to the kneeling rug of childhood. From the book jacket: “This landmark book presents prayer in all its richness and variety throughout history, across traditions, and around the globe. Focusing on…
Connecting to the Earth: A Place to Setttle
“Just as language has no longer anything in common with the thing it names, so the movements of most of the people who live in cities have lost their connection with the earth; they hang, as it were, in the air, hover in all directions, and find no place where they can settle.” —Rainer Maria…
Nadia Boulanger: Choice, Love, Passion…in music and life.
“The essential conditions of everything you do must be choice, love, passion.” ~Nadia Boulanger, composer, conductor and musician~ Wickipedia note: Nadia Boulanger (September 16, 1887 – October 22, 1979) was an influential French composer, conductor, and music professor. An outstanding music educator at the highest level, she taught many of the most important composers and…
Triptych: Jeweled Bones, Central Panel: Bones in the Cellar
Mother shooed us into the cellar. I turned my pockets inside out and showed her my discoveries. While we waited for the storm to pass, my mother told us stories: saints’ bones preserved in crypts of faraway cathedrals; healers who told the future by throwing bones as if they were dice; and air-raid cellars in…