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We Have Not Long to Love By Tennessee Williams We have not long to love. Light does not stay. The tender things are those we fold away. Coarse fabrics are the ones for common wear. In silence I have watched you comb your hair. Intimate the silence, dim and warm. I could but did not, reach to touch your arm. I could, but do not, break that which is still. (Almost the faintest whisper would be shrill.) So moments pass as though they wished to stay. We have not long to love. A n

me gazing up into a forest canopy, sitting at the edge of the creek at Kripalu, with a smiling and hopeful expression I am invigorated by the scientific learnings which support the poetry which has been dear to me since adolescence. Since then, I have felt, in a deep sense, that something is very wrong with my life, and possibly with the way humans live in general. Despite a personal conviction that sitting at desks for seven+ hours a day wasn't as enjoyable as the days the

As I reflected on my own resiliency and the aspects of my life which I trust unequivocally, it is the way I feel walking outside I trust. It is a sense of zest which arises from the depth of my body. These days, as I tune in, I feel what I can only compare to my dog's zoomies. I've never liked to run, yet now, at 35 years old I want to pick up speed on the path and feel the way my body runs my animal energy. In our modern world, it's easy to feel disconnected from nature, bot

me at age 3 sitting on a tree stump by a lake, canoes and a dock behind me in the early 90's in an outfit i wish i still had (purple pants, white tee, white socks, multi-colored itty bitty bowling Keds). kids are cute, this is a cute picture. film photo taken by my mama Kris Monson. For a decade or more now, I have been enraptured by the podcast "On Being with Krista Tippet." At the opening of each episode she has repeatedly asked the same question of her guests. Today in the