One deep thing to share…

“Of all the memberships we identify ourselves by, the one thing that is most forgotten—and that has the greatest potential for healing—is place. We must learn to know, love, and join our place even more than we love our own ideas. People who can agree that they share a commitment to the landscape or cityscape—even if they are otherwise locked in struggle with each other—have at least one deep thing to share.” --Gary Snyder

Last month, it felt so good to offer live, in-person events in our local community! The NEA grant theme for these programs, 'Where We Live,' was a beautifully fitting— and at each gathering, I invited us to explore our stories of connection and belonging."

At the start of each program, I invited participants to share something they noticed on their drive into the event. I asked: “What’s something you noticed on the way here that you appreciated?”

The answers were small and specific:

“The yellow daffodils.”
“The way the water droplets hung on the tree buds.”
“The grey-on-grey layers of the sky.”

As people spoke, you could feel the calm build. The tension ease. A return to presence.

There was a collective exhale.
A pause.
A moment to sink in.

It was almost as if I had forgotten we could feel this way with others in our community. It reminded me that it’s not only possible to feel this kind of connection with others, it’s essential.

One Deep Thing to Share: A Lesson From Conservation
When I started working with land trusts years ago, one profound lesson I saw in action was how, in their purposeful work protecting places—from city blocks to forests and farms—they had to bring people together across political, cultural, and economic divides-- to protect the places they loved.

We didn’t start with labels. We didn’t go into it to “heal divides.” We started with shared ground. We slowed down. We listened. We connected through place. And with that, a quiet sense of well-being would enter the room, even with people who were very different from each other. People felt inspired to find the words to express and share something about the bonds they felt with the places they called home.

What felt so surprising and healing during these live events was how simple it was to get to that common ground feeling. And what felt so good was not only to remember that we can, but how much we want to.
After each program, one or two people came up and pulled me aside, tilted their heads, and said quietly:

“It’s so good to be reminded of what we share. I want to hear more about that. How do we do more of that?”

Through the journey of song and conversation I’d led them on, we'd arrived in that place in a way that seemed simple and natural. It’s as if we’ve forgotten that it is even possible right now to feel connected like that with each other, especially with different people who maybe value different things.

What seems key is this: When we focus on what we appreciate, we find common ground.

These days, it's easy to see what divides us. It's harder—but more essential—to see what connects us.

Doing this might not bring about the rapid, sweeping changes we wish for, but it can bring change, starting with how we feel inside ourselves, with others, and in our surroundings.

Like everyone, I too fall into cynicism and fear, wondering how we got here and if we can find a way forward with so much coming undone. And wondering if what we can do will make a difference.

But if I take the long view and look for a deeper truth, what I know is that agreements don’t last forever, even when I think they should. People will always try to challenge agreements, and we will always need to renew them.

That is exactly why we need to keep sharing what we care about and why.

An Invitation: Share What You Appreciate
Seek out opportunities to find at least “one deep thing to share.”
 Find the spaces where that’s possible. It won’t erase the divide, but it can narrow it. And that is meaningful work. While navigating whatever lies ahead, we can still choose to root ourselves in what restores us.

Can you recall a moment with someone who seemed quite different from you, but where you found something you could mutually appreciate? Can you remember finding that 'one deep thing' you had to share with someone?

What’s the story there? Share it with me. I’d love to hear.

An Invitation: The Art of Noticing
Here’s an invitation that can make you feel like you’ve just taken a tiny retreat at any point in the day.

Look around. Pause. What do you see? What colors? What shape? Be specific. I promise that there is magic in your specificity of detail.


As Mary Oliver advised in her poem “ Somewhere”
“Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
— Mary Oliver


May you be nourished by what you notice. And tell about it.

Tell me. I’d love to know!

Why Retreats Matter
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”
—Anne Lamott

In a world that feels loud, uncertain, and stretched thin, giving yourself the gift of clarity and connection isn’t just a luxury—it's essential. When we return to what roots us—good food, good company, creativity, nature—we remember who we are and what we want more of in life:


More Joy. Presence. Creativity. Wellness. Belonging.

Sometimes you need to rest. To change your surroundings. To step outside your routine and try different things.

Or to just listen and see what you hear.

A retreat is a moment to pause, recharge, and return more grounded, more inspired, and more ready to walk forward in alignment with what matters most. Can you give that to yourself?
    
Slow Down
Connect    
Nourish
Rest

Relax, unwind, reflect, and feed your soul.

Are you interested in retreating with me online or in person? Check my calendar page to see what I’m currently offering. And make sure you’re on my mailing list so you know when the next one is being offered!