Guest Post by Paul Baker
On the basketball court a line is drawn so that when a player shoots from behind that line 3 points are registered. In the mornings here in ZhongHo, Taiwan, I shoot at the basket with 3-pt. men.
On the opposite end of the court are women shooting baskets. They also dance to music while they shoot.
Guest Post by Jim Jackson
In late April of 2023, I received a phone call from Marlo Rees, the wife of one of my very best friends and decade-long senior doubles tennis partner. They had sold their home in Portland and moved to Santa Barbara in mid-2021. Frank Rees had suddenly passed on shortly thereafter.
Marlo told me she had been able to have contact with Frank since his transition, and was sure I would want to know. She also called to thank me for the “wonderful gift.” I had no idea what she was talking about, so I listened on.
By Michael Avery
Before Sawyer Brown became famous, the band always stopped at the Douglas County Fair near my hometown on their whirlwind tour throughout Oregon and the Pacific Northwest. When I left the fair each year after hearing them play until well after midnight, one song always stayed with me—“The Walk.” Little did I know that, many years later, the song would facilitate a healing with my father.
By Michael Avery
When we glance back over our shoulder at the myriad events in our lives, some stand out for their solitary strangeness, others for their magic and mystery. They tug at our coattails, begging us to take another look with older, yet more discerning eyes.
I’d been reflecting on a conversation from several years before regarding a dog and his unusual friend, when I suddenly realized it held a valuable lesson about self-love.
Guest Post by Robin Adams McBride
(Job Interview at an Alzheimer’s Home)
We approached the locked door, Vi and I. She pushed the security button. There was a loud click. She opened the door, and we stepped through into the world of the Alzheimer’s ward.
Guest Post by Al Coffman
Our honeymoon was typical for a couple of our age; Piper and I were
headed to South America with our teenagers Flava and Inigo.1 I had recently finished re-reading the spiritual memoir of Native American writer Jamie Sams. Her book, Midnight Song, began and ended on a Peruvian mountaintop in the Incan settlement at Machu Pichu, and a trip to the ancient royal retreat awaited us. On our way back to Oregon, we would stop and visit Piper’s parents in Pennsylvania. Primed for adventure, little did we expect a harrowing journey into the distant past.
Guest Post by Dennis Ernst
My wife and I finally managed to schedule a “get away” weekend on the Oregon coast to escape from our hectic schedules. As I drove the winding road toward the coast, memories of previous trips floated across my mind. On our last few trips to the beach, we had found dark basalt rocks with quartz crystal heart-shapes on them and had some memorable experiences.
The ocean seemed to be a catalyst for these experiences, and I began to wonder what this trip might bring.
Guest Post by Nigel Bell
In the mid 1960’s my family and I lived on a migrant hostel in South Australia. After spending eighteen months living there, my dad and mom began taking my sister and I to see the new family home getting built. I was seven years old and very excited at the thought of having my own bedroom.
Knowing I’d soon be moving away from my friends forever, I became inspired to take them on a long walk to see my new home. I didn’t realize at the time how an innocent journey of 10 miles would serve as a lifelong spiritual lesson.
Guest Post by Jim Jackson
In the summer of 2023, I had a memorable experience that was both frightening and uplifting. This took place a few days after my positive Covid test in the Marquis Newberg Rehab facility where I was undergoing treatment for my knee.
Guest Post by Riley Carson
I used to go running on a sheep trail along the river that ran in the valley behind the college I was attending. It was open countryside with no people or houses around, which is why I loved it.
One day I noticed a fox up ahead. She noticed me about the same time I noticed her. (Just guessing on the gender.)
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