Author name: Augusta

Christmas is a time of lights, be it a tree light, candlelight, friend-light, family-light — all capture the divine light. Looking at the Christmas tree the other night, one little bulb attracted my attention. Spraying out from it was a wider circle of radiating, golden, white-ish glow which was four or five times larger than […]

My Ex made his crossing Sunday gently and normally. One minute he was breathing and the next he was not. His wife was with him and then our children, myself, and hers arrived minutes after. We had held the watch and his younger sister took the nights for his last few days. He was never

My Ex has had a type of dementia for a decade. Sometimes he is better than others and some days he isn’t. Today was an isn’t. On the good days, he could always remember the past. For years when I would leave, he would come to the door of the unit, I’d unlock it, he

How many times have I felt badly for a person? How many times have I entered a hospital room with a heavy heart? How many times do I feel sorry for a person seeing/feeling their lead-weight of loss, illness, or misfortune? I consider myself a caring, concerned, and supportive person. And that is true and

This week a reader was telling me that some big things are coming up that will leave her at times unhappy and emotionally challenged. After sharing her difficulties, she asked, “What can I do for my soul and spirit?” Reflecting on those seasons for myself, when life feels vacant, unhappy, when the big things seem

When human beings participate in ceremony, they enter a sacred space… Time takes on a different dimension…. (They) become filled with the energy of life, and this energy reaches out and blesses… All is made new, everything becomes sacred. ~ Sun Bear* In the late afternoon sun, I settle down to do some painting.  A piece

“What is essential is invisible to the eye.” Antoine Saint-Exupery Though the years, when people mentioned angels, I have relegated them to wings and church windows. Yet, the other night I happened to see Lorna Bryne on YouTube while searching for some music. Her looks reminded me of a special friend who had passed away

Clean up day. The sidewalk at the front of the house is stacked with boxes, an old chair, and dismantled cupboards. The pile of junk is shrinking by the hour. At this rate, the pickup truck won’t have to come tomorrow morning. While reorganizing the stack to keep the sidewalk clear, a young man in

Below is an excerpt from a visit with the cottage woman several decades ago, yet recorded then in the present tense. The italics are my musings on what she is saying. That spring day I needed insight into praying and its validity. Her wisdom, always simply put, seemed to inform me from a deeper or

Several weeks ago, I received in the mail a large heart which said, in inch high letters, “to the moon and back.” It hangs here in my living room, intriguing me when it catches my eye, which seems to be frequently. So, I ask, “What is it that draws my attention, makes my heart take