to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you've held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you down like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no

Shouldering one another up Whenever I talk about self-care these days, I also include a conversation about collective care. For those who...

We welcome people living with complexity as a priority for care In 2011 I travelled to Monterey California for an “Unconvention” led by...

Last year I had the privilege of spending a week on the Land of the Gundungurra and Thurawal People, living in community, sitting in...

Can you recall a leader or leaders who brought out the best in you? What was it about them that helped you to feel at ease in their...

For as long as I can remember I have had a passion for sitting and listening to humans and marveling at their resilience,...