Wonders Never Cease

Photo of the night sky with dark trees in the foreground silhouetted against greenish northern lights.

Getting to the feelings just beyond dread

Here in month 6 of debilitating long Covid chronic fatigue and other nonsense, I don't have the energy for much. But I'm an empathic being who loves to talk about meaningful-to-us things, so I still spend a chunk of time every day now talking

Photo of two canning jars: one yellow (goldenrod infused olive oil) and one red (St Johns wort infused olive oil)

Remember to swing your arms as empire crumbles

A poem today followed by my favorite meme this month. Darkness and light belong together. We belong together. Loss and grief teach that. Pain held by community teaches that. Chronic illnesses teach us that together. Wise women and all smiling, weeping, sensitive elders teach us that. It's one

A photo of our family at a pumpkin patch, surrounded by bright orange pumpkins, a rusty old truck, blue sky, a tree turning red, and our a smiling fluffy Australian Shepherd dog.

The Adventures of an HBS (Human Banana Slug)

As we left the house this weekend, we saw a huge and beautiful spotted banana slug super-slow-strollin' across the patio. They (most slugs, including banana slugs, are both/and, so they is singular—plus, I asked and they told me their pronoun preference) were intentionally carrying a

A photo of a home office with a view of Douglas fir trees, a wood desk, an old dark blue and rose rug, the corner of a piano, a gray comfortable chair, and a single bed for napping

Introducing ourselves well vs. fixing ourselves and others

There are some new folks here. So I thought I'd combine a sort of Wonders Never Cease and Lori introduction–we're always changing here—with sharing a few simple things that I'm personally unlearning/learning/being/doing this fall. Welcome friends. This is us.

A black and white Australian shepherd sits in front of a man wearing a dark gray puffy vest, watching a silly race down a local hill

How to spend less– and more intentional– time on social media

I'd been spending very intentional time– and far less time– on social media in 2025 and 2026 than I have in years past. It was going great! Then, in March I got Covid again, and by May I had long Covid, and extreme chronic fatigue as the worst

A photo of a large bright lime-green hops plant growing up the corner of a dark gray building and along a gate

What can I do about authoritarianism and fascism?

As a writer and community story wrangler, essayist, poet, researcher, herbalist, auntie, and elder caregiver hybrid—and now as someone with long Covid's terrible chronic fatigue—I'm online a lot. Here in the U.S., so many people now are on chronic overwhelm, stressed, hurting, struggling,

Child-like drawing of a tree with a blue & green door in it. On one side someone offscreen says "I can't do this alone anymore!" On the other side, someone thinks "Wow. This is easy."

Unspoken easy

Unspoken easy Have you heard the secret password for belonging? When getting my doc degree I worked my metaphorical ass off (as my actual ass grew) day & night, library after library years diving into field after field school after school— philosophy to chemistry theology, biology eavesdropping then & now

Comment icons from Facebook but added to them are "Glory!" with a photo of a Klingon from StarTrek, a sad Jordy icon, and the Angry icon looks a bit like a Klingon too.

Update your words, friends: it's time to get weird and be REAL (Part 2 of 2)

Part 1 shared footprints I've found recently on the weird path to being REAL and my story about how long Covid and I are gleefully killing Caregiver Me. Here in part 2, strange new words emerge as I shake off my old words and then questions emerge—questions

Photo of a stainless steel pan on the stove full of chopped green herbs such as lemon balm, rosemary, basil, and catmint

Footprints for getting weirder and being REAL (Part 1 of 2)

Life is messy and often confusing or busy and exhausting and sometimes it's scary as hell. Here we've noticed that becoming more honest about what we're really feeling, doing, thinking, and becoming—sharing more of our lived reality, more of our wild imaginings, and

Photo of a large, flat gray boulder surrounded by purple flowers and green in the woods

Are Good Neighbors the turning point in chronic illness? (2 of 2)

Seeing well—seeing and feeling more of this world—may be the key to turning the corner with long Covid or chronic illness. At least it seems that way to me. Ok, story time. Simply by being so sick for so long and talking with more and more people I

A photo of a forest with dappled light casting interesting shadows across the dark green leaves and plants

Are Good Neighbors the turning point in chronic illness? (1 of 2)

This is a two-part essay and story about having a chronic illness and all the things that have helped me with my long Covid symptoms across the past four months in 2026. Many suggestions have helped me a little bit, but nothing helped me a lot. Until this week.

Photo of a green vase with a brown woman's face on it that says "Love will win" holding lilacs, a blue mug, a white vase, some clear glass cups and candlestick, and a photo of me and my mom

Listening to the wise woman: a practice for human beings

It can be difficult to hear the core– the wisest– voice speaking from within us these days. There's so much disconnection, fear, distraction, mistrust, cruelty, violence, needless suffering and death, anger, exhaustion, outrage, and despair—in the human world anyway. How did we ever believe that we humans

an expression of surprise, delight, or in-community sarcasm when something unexpected or unusual happens

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