Mend The World Within Your Reach
Join a community discovering how living lightly and deeply through seasonal practices of presence can heal both our scattered attention and our relationship with the living world. Because mending the world begins with mending our capacity to truly see it.
Spring has never promised you anything
The Unreliable Season Do I need a sweater? Where are my rain boots? Can I make room in my closet for my spring coats? Should I put the shovels away? When will spring actually get here? There is a particular kind of foolishness that overtakes otherwise sensible people in early April. I pack away the heavy coats. I make plans involving outdoor seating. I buy tomato seedlings far too soon, carrying them home like small hostages to optimism, then spend the next fortnight shuttling them in and out...
Learning from the wisdom of ancestors
Found Wisdom for These Times Thomas Elliott "Hope is not a door, but a sense that there might be a door at some point, some way out of the problems of the present moment even before that way is found or followed." — Rebecca Solnit The morning sun eases through my window as it breaks through the trees, casting long shadows across the book on my lap. Outside, the pine tree waves. I am researching Gene Stratton-Porter, who, on a similar morning in August 1900, first ventured deep into Indiana's...
What the equinox actually teaches us about balance
Standing at the Threshold Liana S Poised at the Edge of Spring What does it actually feel like to stand at a turning point? Not metaphorically, but physically — that suspended instant when something tips from one state into another, and everything is held, briefly, in perfect tension? The spring equinox offers exactly this. For one astronomical moment, day and night achieve genuine equality before the long lean toward summer begins. Around this celestial hinge, the natural world performs its...
What a dying man's letters teach us about paying attention
Learning to See Again martí freixas The Quiet Wisdom of John Ames “Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it. And that was such a quiet day, rain on the roof, rain against the windows, and everyone grateful, since it seems we never do have quite enough rain.” There is a question running quietly...
The fridge that taught me enough
Enough Discovering Abundance Through Simplicity When my fridge sprang a leak in late November, it warped our kitchen floor and who knows what else beneath it. We enlisted our house insurance to repair what was needed, and two weeks of blowers and dehumidifiers dragged the process through December. And then Christmas arrived, as it does, indifferent to the chaos. Nothing could be done about the missing floor or the gaping space where my fridge was supposed to live until January. Over eight...
The Ethics of Attention
Just Perception Meg The sun sparkles on the snow drifts in my backyard. The whiteness is very nearly blinding, almost causing me to close my eyes to what I see. There is a particular quality to February light that refuses this dishonesty of not seeing. Stand outside on a February afternoon and notice how the low sun creates no flattering shadows, no kind obscurities. Everything receives the same stark illumination. The architecture of bare trees becomes visible in ways summer's abundance...
The philosophy of mending our world
Witnessing the Living World Stephanie Gibeault I invite you to read a long-form essay that introduces the philosophy that I am moving to embody. Take some time to sit with a tea and a blanket, maybe, to think about what it could mean for the world if we encouraged more mending. The evening light filters through the maple leaves outside my window, casting dappled shadows across my desk. A cardinal—brilliant against the green backdrop—alights momentarily on a branch, tilts his head as if in...
When a blanket and tea are enough
Kitchen Table Wisdom: The Practice of Maggie Jones The girl stands at the door, seventeen and pregnant, cast out by her mother. Maggie Jones doesn't ask questions. She drapes a throw blanket around Victoria's shoulders and leads her to the kitchen table. For an hour they sit in the silence of night, talking and drinking hot tea, while all around them the neighbours sleep and breathe and dream. This is how Maggie mends: not with grand gestures or solutions, but with a blanket, with tea, with...
The Courage of Ordinary Days
Between the Celebrations Felix Preiss Living Ordinary Time These are ordinary days. Growing up Catholic, these days meant that there was nothing to celebrate. It was the time between. In reality, ordinary days are what make up a life. Every day is an ordinary day until some event sparkles. I have been reflecting on Wendell Berry's essay, The Gift of Good Land. He suggests: "Does the hero have, in extreme circumstances, the courage to obey–to perform the task, the sacrifice, the resistance,...
Learning from the silence of winter
The Ecology of Silence Pascal Debrunner Winter's Contemplative Offering The snow was falling silently as I walked in the morning darkness. The roads and gardens are white. The ground is a blank slate waiting. Winter teaches through absence. Where autumn instructs through falling, and spring will illuminate through emerging, winter's pedagogy is one of withdrawal, of quieting, of the profound intelligence that lives in stillness. We have forgotten how to be quiet. Our lives are filled with...
Join a community discovering how living lightly and deeply through seasonal practices of presence can heal both our scattered attention and our relationship with the living world. Because mending the world begins with mending our capacity to truly see it.