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If any of the saints ushered me in last night, they'd have note my homeless heart. What can they offer me? I'm no believer. My stepping stones are the words I scribble down in my journal. The railings I cling to: the books I can't leave home without. I'm not ready for immersion but the feeling of these damp steps beneath me will become a perennial part of my being.

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The Long Haul

We had a rough start and after the first year it could have dissolved into history. But I chose Italy again and again. Not because she was beautiful or romantic but because she asked a lot of me. It took a long time, many years, before I trusted that she wanted me. It took time to see that her demands were forcing me to build a framework for a new home.

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Traveling Inward

There are physical places that extract my inner juice with little effort. Call them sacred places. And then, there are spaces that challenge me to be present. The challenge to be present is the opportunity we are faced with when we pull away from the world and look inward, leaving only our breath as a guide. I learn as write this how perfect it is that for me, that challenging place is the place where I come from…


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