Manna Meditations

two ways to read it …

The Snow
sings a song
you can only hear
in silence.

It speaks to those
who stand perfectly still,
a primal music
drumming in their chests:

Be still.
Be still.
Be still.
Be still …

I think we both know
I’m not really talking about snow.

Silent Snapshots

The Quiet Blogger: Day 1

Can I tell you a secret?


Over the past 24 hours, I’ve changed my phone number … and my legal name.  

I’ve registered a new web domain, taken ((my own!)) professional headshot, and spent a lot of time brainstorming, scribbling, explaining and dreaming.

Let’s just say that there are **a lot** of changes in the works for me.  And they’re good … (Yes, I am still married. No, I’m not running from the law.)  … But change is also a little exhausting, too.  Anyone who’s ever built something from scratch — or re-built something — knows what I mean.

I’ve got a lot of voices in my head, and the truth is … I need some quiet.

So I’m giving myself a challenge:  every day for the next ten days, I’ll post a single, wordless photo in this space … one that I believe reflects quiet beauty.

This means no writing…

No quoting…

No words to speak of.

Just images, speaking softly, the way gentle images do.

For most of those ten days, I’ll be in southern Florida, drinking in the light, clearing the cobwebs from my head and making space for what’s next.

I may be quiet during this time, but please know:  I am thinking of you. ❤

Wordless Wednesday

Say nothing …




I spent the weekend in a little cabin in the woods.  There was firelight.  There were books.  There was wine and good food, and better company.  

I walked in a woods dusted with snowflakes, over a carpet of furry wet ferns.

I rested.

And I come away from that time with a renewed respect for silence — for sitting still and making space for the magic.

In response to that, I’ll be implementing a new feature here on the blog:  Wordless Wednesdays.  If you’re a reader who’s new to WordPress, please know that I’m not the first to come up with the idea; in fact, there are many great bloggers sharing beautiful images, sans explanation, at the midpoint of every week.  But the photos I post here will be (as always) my own.  

I’ll try to share shots that strike me as provocative, but which I can’t yet pin down into language (and maybe I don’t want to).  If you’d like to respond to them or build on them in some way, feel free to do so in the comments section.  Or don’t…


Either way, I hope you find space to take a breath and drink in some wonder. ❤

Thoughts in Progress


I’ve built my life around words:  planted them like seed, panned for them like gold.  I’ve gone out into green valleys and collected words like rainwater, storing them up for seasons of drought.  

This is what my kind of people do.


There are days when words feel too small for me — a poor, mealy-mouthed language too paltry to say what must be said.  On those days I dance.  I paint.  I reach for my camera.

And lately, I’ve found myself speaking wordless prayers.

So today, I’m praying this:


I want this, and this, and this:






I go out into the green world and I ask for what I see — for my soul and for yours.  

For the parts of us too wide and deep for talking.

I sit still, and I say nothing. ❤



Coming Out of the Quiet

It’s been awhile since you saw my words here — almost a month since my last post.  In real life, I’ve been busy … sometimes even frantic.  But in this space I’ve let the silence fall like a curtain, heavy and thick.

I needed that silence.

On the heels of my last series — Same Body, Second Glance — I felt tired in a way I haven’t before.  I’m not talking about a tiredness that comes from writing a lot, or shooting a lot, or editing a lot.  I’m used to that sort of thing.

I’m talking about an exhaustion that comes from a steady daily output of white-knuckled vulnerability.  Which is a different thing entirely.

Don’t misunderstand me:  I never felt this exhaustion was negative.  It was necessary for me, and good, in the way that exhaustion after a long, hard workout is necessary and good.  But I knew I needed to respond to it.  So I stepped away, and I rested.

And in the meantime, the snows melted, and spring unfolded outside my windows… Lush.  Rainwet.  Green.  The birds returned, waking me at first light with their warbling.  In the afternoons I’d find velvety pink rose petals scattered on the steps to the backyard.  Then there was the scent of it:  turned earth and damp leaves.  Honeysuckle.

I stayed silent.  I photographed nothing.  I drank in the green and, for almost a month, felt no obligation to explain it to anyone.  In this way, I reminded myself that my life was my own…

My story.

My body.

My words.

These things are all mine, to give or to keep as I choose.  They always have been.

And yet, after enjoying them for awhile, I am ready, again, to share them with you.

I suppose I always knew I would be.


Welcome back, friends.  ❤

What Happens Next

Breaking Silence

I’ve been quiet for more than a week here — maybe you noticed.

I needed that time to step away … to sink into silence.  Sometimes I need silence the way so many good green things need winter — maybe you know what I mean.

Not long ago, I mentioned that I’ve been mulling a new project for this space … one that requires more openness than I’ve had to muster before.  Vulnerability always comes at personal cost to someone, and you’re reading these words because I’ve decided I’m willing to pay it.

All that to say this:  on Friday, I’ll unveil something new here.  Some people will like it, some people will hate it, and some people just won’t get it.  I’m okay with that.  What I know for sure is, I’m after the beauty, always.

I hope to build something small and humble and beautiful here:  to break silence and turn winter to Spring.

I hope you’ll come along.