Last week we reflected on katabasis—the descent. The Greeks paired that word with another: anabasis, a going up. Not a return to the way things were, but a movement into something that follows. After a difficult stretch of life, there are times when a person begins
The Life That Is Already Here — A Form of Spiritual Wellness Ask someone what they plan to do in retirement and the answers come quickly. Travel. Learn a language or play the piano. Take up painting. Write a book. Read the books we already bought
Editor’s Note It has been some time since we last shared a From the Circle reflection. This one arrived recently and seemed important to share. A Reader’s Reflection There are moments when a reader’s words arrive with a certain weight—especially when they speak to the work of finding
The ancient Greeks had a word for a necessary descent: katabasis. The katabasis meaning is simple—a going down. In their stories, heroes did not always begin with triumph. Often the journey required entering darkness first, descending into uncertainty or loss before any wisdom could emerge. Many
Why the search for the sacred may be more deeply human than we think “Spirituality is an inborn human capacity.” — Lisa Miller For years now, headlines have told a familiar story: Americans are leaving organized religion. Church membership has declined. Congregations have aged. Yet the deeper spiritual
For many of us, caring for the body in later life becomes something different from what it was in youth. It is the instrument through which work is done, families are raised, journeys are taken. When we are younger, its strength feels almost incidental. We notice
What Lloyd Hammons and Diane Mahree reveal about belonging in later life Some lives are spent searching for where they belong. Others settle into place almost without intending to. In the first reflection in this series, The Man Who Stayed, we considered the story of Lloyd Russell
Last Sunday’s reflection asked where we belong now. This week, we consider what it means to practice staying with what matters in later life. For many who have done the inner work, that question eventually becomes quieter and more demanding. It shifts from geography to attention.
A man who stayed. A woman who traveled. What their lives ask of us. Last Sunday, we reflected on a man who spent nearly his entire life on the land where he was born. Lloyd Russell Hammons didn’t leave when others did. He didn’t stay to
Sunday’s reflection began with a man who stayed in one place for nearly his entire life. But remaining in later life is not only a matter of geography. In later life, “remaining” can become a quieter practice: staying with what is true, staying with what is unfinished,