A dog is grateful for what is, which I am finding to be the soundest kind of wisdom and very good theology.

There's a spiritual current in my work because there's a spiritual current in my life.

Every night before I go to sleep I say out loud three things that I am grateful for, all the significant, insignificant, extraordinary, ordinary stuff of my life. It is s small practice and humble, and yet, I find I sleep better holding what lightens and softens my life every so briefly at the end of the day.

A dog is grateful for what is, which I am finding to be the soundest kind of wisdom and very good theology.

Sometimes you just close your eyes and jump... you don't think too long or maybe you just won't. Sometimes you just follow your heart, don't analyze too long, or maybe it might just be gone.

Something good happened to my writing when I stopped being afraid to do something simple, for the fear that people might think I couldn't do something more complex. Don't be confused by the word simple. Simple is not easy, it is clear voiced, and fearlessly elegant.

Holy is the dish and drain, the soap and sink, and the cup and plate and the warm wool socks, and the cold white tile, showerheads and good dry towelsand frying eggs sound like psalms, with bits of salt measured in my palm. It's all a part of a sacrament, as holy as a day is spent.