
Living off the rage
The restaurant was quiet, despite its being the lunch hour. The rain came down outside, no doubt part of the reason for the low turnout. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and were catching up in that meandering,…
Hopeful in spite of the facts
Hopeful in spite of the facts

The restaurant was quiet, despite its being the lunch hour. The rain came down outside, no doubt part of the reason for the low turnout. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and were catching up in that meandering,…

Kathy Escobar and Phyllis Mathis interviewed me on their podcast Soul + Practice: Raw Conversations, Real Practices, and it went live yesterday. Kathy was an early role model as I carved out this weird life I have now – she…
I want to tell you a secret. Or maybe “secret” isn’t the right word since it’s pretty evident when you think about it. Either way, virtually nobody wants to talk about it. And what’s worse, they plan movements and actions…
I don’t understand prayer. I mean, not really. I don’t know how it works, or if it works, and I have noticed that when I pray for something to change, the thing that changes the most is usually me. Maybe…
Some years back, I was hanging out in the smoking rea of the day shelter I ran at the time. It was one of my favorite community-building activities – it’s hard to have any agenda in a smoking area, especially…
A thing I do, when overwhelmed by the pain of the world, is to look through the memory box I carry around in my head and try hard to remember everything I can about a particular thing. Last night, processing…
Hey there. Yes, you. How’s it going? I mean, for real? Yeah. Me too. It’s exhausting. All of it. Like, so many good things are happening, and new possibilities are opening up, and also the world is a damned dumpster…
It was perhaps six years ago that I found myself at the hospital. It was, to be fair, a nice hospital, as hospitals go. I didn’t have clergy credentials at this one – my people almost always ended up at…
Her name was Betty, and how exactly we were kin is a long story that involves marriages, divorces, widows, and time, but it’s far easier to just tell you she was my cousin’s wife which, while true, downplays her role…
When I was doing homeless work, there were children everywhere. I knew children that lived in cars, who got cleaned up in gas station restrooms, and who wrote their school papers on old cellphones that were submitted using the wifi…