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Nourish your Heart
With stories, sights and sounds – discover a new rhythm to be found…
LATEST POSTS
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History is Told by the Victors
While wandering Europe for more than 2 months, one truth echoes over and over – history is told by the victors. The victors are usually those who had the best war machines and/or population to outlast the identified ‘enemy.’ That enemy often was of a different religion, tribe or simply, they occupied the land others
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Soapbox
As much as I try, I can not block the news out.I thought we could get a ‘break’ from all things politics as we traveled abroad.But that’s not how the interconnectedness of the internet works.The world is smaller.We are a global community.Most often reminded of this truth on our worst days.We like being able to
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The Pilgrim’s Badge
Pilgrim’s badge. During the Middle Ages, graves rarely contained real treasure. However sometimes a cockleshell from the tomb of St James or the Mount of St Michel was discovered. Proof of piety. I began carrying cockleshells in my pockets long ago. I find them in my suitcases and in old, forgotten handbags. Piety is not
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The Copenhagen Paradox
Breathing in a brand new day.Bustling city to my quiet.Tucked into the corner of the pulsing cafeI am at peace.Soft conversations foreign to my ear hum.Grateful to be with otherswhile perfectly alone.Copenhagen is not a ‘prying eyes’ scene.No pressure to conform.The ease of confidence is attractiveDrawing me in and keeping me out.The Copenhagen Paradox.
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Memorial Day
If you are from New England, Memorial Day is for grave visiting. A time to remember those who have pasted, those who were lost, sharing lore and planting pansies or geraniums. In the oldest, colonial cemetery on Cape Cod, my 8th great-grandmother Mercy Worden is buried. She is surrounded by family, my other great-grandparents Kenelm,
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This is Us
I didn’t know I was a Pilgrim’s granddaughter. The story I had been raised on was ‘you better depend on yourself, because you can’t depend on anyone else. you are alone…’ That was my mother’s story. The one she repeated a 1000 times in every way. Her father arrived from Ireland two weeks before the
The Pilgrim's Granddaughter 