"The ache for home lives in all of us." — Maya Angelou People use the word home in ways that have nothing to do with an address. Someone returns to the town where they grew up and understands, perhaps for the first time, what Thomas Wolfe meant by
Christopher Nolan's upcoming adaptation of The Odyssey has sparked renewed interest in Homer's ancient masterpiece. But why has this story endured for nearly three thousand years? Perhaps because, beneath the monsters and adventures, it tells the story of every life searching for home.
Humility in later life is often misunderstood as a lowering of oneself. In practice, it is closer to making room—an openness that allows something beyond our own certainty to enter. It does not draw attention to itself. But without it, a life can begin to narrow. Traditions
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
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,
Some people spend a lifetime searching for where they belong. Others simply remain. Questions of belonging in later life rarely surface all at once. They tend to emerge slowly, often in the very places where our lives have already taken shape. In rural Oregon, on land that had
“I presume nothing.” — Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle) Assumptions are easy. Correcting them is hard. Most assumptions don’t announce themselves. They look like understanding. We think we know why someone didn’t respond, what a silence meant, or how a look should be taken. We rarely say, I’m
Rediscovering belonging after loss and change “Belonging is the opposite of loneliness." — Brené Brown We spend much of life trying to find where we fit — in families, friendships, work, or faith. For a long time, it comes easily enough. Then something shifts. The kids move
As we age, friendship becomes less about expansion and more about attention. This reflection explores how connection matures, deepens, and heals in later life.
Sometimes friendship asks little more than presence. It begins with showing up, with letting conversation wander where it will. The talk can be ordinary—weather, errands, the price of eggs—yet it loosens the knot that silence tightened. You notice how your home sounds different when a