Welcome to the Art of Being Human

Life as a Sacred Curriculum

While preparing to share my writing with a wider audience, I stumbled across a prayer I had written during a season of profound transition. I was tickled to discover that this unexpected breadcrumb once again had relevance. As an Interfaith minister, I thought it was appropriate to begin this new endeavor with a blessing.

I invite you to step into stillness with me, as together we create a sacred container to explore the art of being human through stories, meditations, reflections, and essays.

Welcome. I am glad that you are here.

Reflections from the Threshold

A Prayer for Becoming

I stand at the quiet edge of my own becoming.

What once served me has done its sacred work,

And now the wisdom that once flowed through others

Awakens within me.

I honor all that has brought me here –

Every mentor, every method, every name.

I release them with gratitude,

Knowing that the essence they pointed to

Now lives within me.

I am no longer seeking permission to be who I am.

I am the minister, the teacher, the counselor, the guide.

Through stillness and surrender,

I become the instrument of the Divine.

Through authenticity,

I become the lesson itself.

Today, I let life breathe me open.

I teach by my presence.

I serve by being.

I lead by listening.

May life continue to reveal

The form that best serves love.

May I continue to walk through life,

As the truest expression of who I have always been.

Time to Sing My Own Song

My father died last week.

While going through his papers, I came across an unexpected gift — a short reflection entitled, What I Want to Leave My Children. I’d like to share it with you.

I think it is important to enjoy life.
Be grateful for all the good things.
And deal with your head held high,
With all the unpleasant things.

Life is a balance
of both good and bad events,
But I think the good events
Far outweigh the bad.

Enjoy the beauty of nature —
The blue skies,
The warm sun,
And the green trees.
Be grateful, and appreciate being alive.

Speak to God every day,
And say, “Thank you for my life.”

Be honest and moral,
(even when no one is looking).

And as my mother would always say,
“Always do the right thing.”

Love,
Dad

My Dad was gone.

And even though our roles had changed and I had become the parent, somewhere inside me I was still seven years old, and I was going to miss my Daddy.

Through his simple words, my father left a legacy. He wanted to be remembered. He wanted to leave us with something meaningful. He wanted us to know that his life mattered, that life mattered, and that he hoped we would appreciate it just as he did.

And suddenly I found myself asking:
What is my legacy?
How will I be remembered?
What am I going to leave behind?

With the passing of my Dad, I instantly became the family matriarch. I began to feel my own mortality in a new way. Not with fear, but with clarity. The realization that time is not guaranteed. That if I am going to leave something meaningful behind, I had better begin.

The only thing stopping me is the fear that no one will care.

And so… here I am.

A student of the Art of Being Human.

I have been asking the questions:
Who am I?
Why am I here?
How can I live with greater ease?
for as long as I can remember.

Over a lifetime of living, loving, grieving, failing, healing, questioning, and beginning again, I have searched for those answers. And the funny thing is — the answers have changed over time.

Life itself became the teacher.

I have come to see life as a sacred curriculum — one filled with experiences that shape us, challenge us, humble us, break us open, and ultimately invite us into deeper authenticity.

I have learned simple truths.
Easy to speak.
Much harder to live.

Truths found beneath many wisdom traditions, regardless of the language, metaphors, or rituals used to express them. Because beneath all the things that separate us lives the common bond of our shared humanity.

I have come to learn.
I have come to teach.
I have come to receive.
I have come to give.

And perhaps now, I have come to share.

My father left behind a few pages of wisdom for his children. In his own way, he was saying:
“This is how I saw life.
These are the things that mattered to me.”

I wish to do the same.

Not because I have everything figured out.
Not because I have arrived.
But because I have lived.
And what I have learned along the way feels too meaningful to keep entirely to myself.

I have spent much of my life helping others navigate this sacred curriculum called being human. Celebrating. At times lamenting. Sometimes grieving. Always growing.

And now I find myself feeling the pull to step out a little more boldly, to venture beyond the privacy of my own journals and conversations, and to begin recording the breadcrumbs I have followed along the way.

Because unlike my Dad…

I have not yet finished singing my own song.

Thank you for reading The Art of Being Human.

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and continue walking this path with me.