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A couple of weeks ago, a friend asked me what I find myself wishing for, as I approach my 40th birthday in the middle of February.

Where can I possibly begin?

Health and comfort for everyone I love. A light at the end of the COVID tunnel. A lifting of the madness that seems to have gripped the collective consciousness more tenaciously than ever before. Relief for the multitudes suffering the world over as a result of the delusion of human supremacy. Planetary healing. Inner peace. Outer quiet.

But perhaps that’s a bit too much to ask of the candles…

I’m sure the offer was intended to make life easier, but it struck me instead as doing quite the opposite.

Excuse me, Google, but I knew exactly what I was looking for when I entered my original search. …

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On the morning of Saturday, July 4th, one day before we were scheduled to welcome our five rescued cows to VeganLand, we arrived to discover that eight of the condemned cows who graze on our neighbor’s land had somehow made their way onto our property.

Our first thought was that we must have left a gate open, but a quick look revealed they were all closed.

We could hear their herd mates calling from the field next door, and as we tried to understand how they had managed to get through, eight dispirited and mistrustful mothers stood staring back at…

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A number of years back, while staying in my home town of Wellington, New Zealand, I visited an historic house constructed in the 1800s. The ‘Colonial Cottage’ had housed children and grandchildren of the original settlers who built it, until it was bequeathed to the city in the 1960s.

As we came down a set of narrow steps and through an old wooden door, our guide informed us that we were now stepping into the ‘wet kitchen’. …

How two pandemics caused expressions of solidarity to “go viral”

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A few days ago, I heard someone I love very dearly letting out a sneeze.

It was a glorious, bright-blue-sky, beautifully sunny day; not at all the kind of day when the coronavirus would dare to come around, and certainly not a day when it would dare to come near anyone I loved. Certainly not my 83-year-old very dear friend who also happens to be afflicted with an underlying heart condition that almost killed him after coming to light when he suffered through a bout of pneumonia two years ago.

Depending on who we are, our utterance of the words…

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Life begins the day you start a garden.

Chinese proverb

After the death of my paternal grandmother in 2009, my aunt asked me if there were any of Nana’s belongings that I would like to have as my own. There was only one item that came to mind, and that was a framed embroidery that used to sit on her mantle. …

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It is with a sad heart that I take up my pen to write this little note to you — sad because I feel you are grieving for me and this you must not do.

So wrote my grandmother on September 4th, 1972, in a letter to the mother of her husband, one week after his death at only 54 years of age.

It is hard for us to even try to understand why these things happen — all who knew Tom seem terribly stunned even as I was. …

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“Strange times, huh?” I said to the bank teller, as we said our goodbyes.

She has been my favorite teller at our local credit union since I was unexpectedly moved by a thoughtful inquiry she once made as to the wellbeing of someone I care for. This was over a year ago now, when I had accompanied a dear friend into the branch in an attempt to help him navigate a world of mundanities that had previously been managed by his newly deceased wife of 52 years.

I can’t remember exactly why, but it was some peculiar red tape issue…

Angel Flinn

I hope my words can bring something of value to the dialog of our society. Thank you for reading.

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