Mj Pettengill

It was a dream-filled night. And I had lost my way.

May we remember who we are as humans and only offer love and support or nothing at all.

As time marches on, it is clear that respecting and honoring our elders has waned into non-existence.

When a great divide becomes as vast as an ocean between us, decide that your anchor is a sail

May we always care about the truth. And may we not allow fear to lead the way.

It was well before daybreak, and the girls slumbered well. I was alert, and my nose was cold. I stared up at where I knew the boarded-up...

...bringing me home to Cold River.

It isn’t just a sweater; it’s the shelter of him—my father—his care and safety enveloping me as if I were a little girl again.

...may this food provide strength and energy for our tired limbs and good thoughts for our weary minds...

Communicating with plants is a gift that I cherish.

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high... Rabindranath Tagore

They weren’t long letters, just brief newsy accounts from the home front. It was about that lifeline, that classic archetype of mother...

After all, we did not have a playbook so, we made up the rules as we went along.

How can you not love such darlings with their fat little cheeks full to exploding with nuts and seeds?

“I am with child.” My temples pounded. All strength was gone.

We were so proud to be Americans. We had an idea of who we were. We had each others’ backs.

We will find each other again and again, suspended between the wildness of Heaven and Earth...

It is time to rest, to reflect on the past season, find the creative, dark womb, and curl up beside the fire.

The primary source of collective and individual trauma related to the County Farm is rooted in profound unawareness.

It seems that in my youth, I discovered the meaning of God; God is music.