A Question to Walk With: Describe a trail you have taken or made in your life and what it looks like looking back. What do you see now that you didn’t see when you were in the middle of it?

A Question to Walk With: In conversation with a friend or loved one, tell the story of how someone helped you rise and land.

This is from my book of poems in progress, The Tone in the Center of the Bell.

This Uncertain Moment Is Your Gift | Maria Delivers Commencement Address to University of Michigan

Good morning, Michigan! I’m really excited to be here today in the Big House to celebrate YOU, the class of 2022!

Now, let me be honest: I initially said no to the invitation to be your speaker. I said I had a scheduling conflict, and that I was already planning to be here next weekend for my son Christopher’s graduation. He was part of the class of 2020, the only class in Michigan history to not have a graduation ceremony. Thank you, Covid! But now, finally, his class will have their own moment to shine right here next Saturday!

A Question to Walk With: Describe one thing you are holding onto tightly that would serve you better if you let go. How can you begin to let go?

This is from my book of poems in progress, The Fire Dialogues.

The story of Moses carries an archetype that we all must face and live with. Of all his brethren, Moses was closest to God. Indeed, he climbed Mount Sinai to receive the ten commandments and heard God directly. But due to an accident as a child in which his tongue was burned by a hot coal, he stammered greatly. All his life, he suffered an inability to easily speak what he knew to be true. Though he listened to God directly, he couldn’t convey what he heard to others.

Inevitably, this is everyone’s fate when crossing from the inner world to the outer world. We all have trouble speaking what matters and yet we must try. Often, we are misled to think that falling short in how we convey the truth is a failure, when it is not trying at all that damages us. For even light through a crack is illuminating.

A Question to Walk With: Describe a race you need to stop running. How can you begin to stop?

This is from my book of poems In progress, The Tone in the Center of the Bell.

I spent the weekend with a tribe of 80+ like-minded, conscious souls that I hadn’t seen in two years.

Upon arrival we were all tested for Covid before receiving our color-coded name badges in an effort to keep all of us feeling safe.

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A Question to Walk With: Describe your latest journey from sleep to wakefulness or from blindness to sight, or from fear to love.

After almost two years at home, I was overwhelmed just ordering the Uber to the airport. I needed to reclaim that in-between space while traveling as home. Once Christopher dropped me off, I was back in the stream. But as soon as I got to the counter, I was delayed and would miss my connection. My mind began to spin with logistics. Could I still get to Denver tonight? Would I have to go tomorrow? Should I just rebook now? The delay threw me off.

I was rebooked through Minneapolis. It all worked out, though I didn’t arrive in Denver till after midnight. In texting my wife, Susan, I almost wrote, “Something went wrong.” But I stopped myself, caught by an earlier flight deplaning. Dozens of passengers scurried out of the arrival gate, like bees scattering from a hive, buzzing about, intently focused on the countless choices suddenly before them.

There once was a king who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The King looked at all the pictures, but there were only two he thought really captured peace, and so he had to choose between them.

One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy, white clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.

The other picture had mountains, too. But, they were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky from which rain fell, in which lightning played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.

But upon closer inspection, you could see behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. And nestled in the bush sat a mother bird on a nest. There, in the midst of a storm and the rush of angry water, a mother bird had built her nest and sat upon it.. in perfect peace.

This was the picture that won the prize because the King realized that . . .Peace is not the absence of conflict, not the absence of storms, not the absence of rough waters, but calm and serenity right in the midst of it.

A Question to Walk With: In conversation with a friend or trusted loved one, sit with them and ask them, “Who are you now?”