Mj Pettengill

The very ancient ones are our guides. It is up to us to awaken to them.

When my son was a little boy, he found a rock.

We were good girls breaking the rules, running around on the beach in the twilight hours in our pajamas.

After all, she watches me unpack the shopping bags. I have a lot to learn about hunting.

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

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

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

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.

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

Be worth coming home to out of desire, not desperation. Be the firm shelter, not the ruins.

The apple trees in the horse pasture behind the barn of my childhood were abundant with wildly imperfect apples.

With little or no change, Monday always showed up in our world.

An egg about to crack open becomes a favorite moment.

My pilgrimage has taken me beyond the mediocrity of the everyday world.

I understand the significance of staying on the path. Although, getting lost in the woods has brought about countless valuable lessons.

Remembering a barn and entering it is to remember my heart and enter my soul. I am confident that a wide assortment of thoughts and ideas...

Given the opportunity, they imply balance in a world that has lost its equilibrium.

I do not believe in coincidences and am grateful for miracles, especially the small, unexpected ones.