Wunjo Way of Joy
Years ago, I found The Book of Runes by Ralph H. Blum—a companion for the spiritual warrior, offering guidance through simple stones inscribed with ancient symbols. Among them, the rune Wunjo—joy—kept appearing, quietly insisting that joy is not just a fleeting feeling but a direction, a compass, a way of being. It still feels true. Wunjo is a reminder to orient toward inner alignment, beauty, and the harmonies that arise when we live close to nature and close to ourselves.
I’ve been writing on and off since my teenage years—scribbling into notebooks, chasing questions, trying to remember and reveal who I am and why I’m here in this body, on this Earth. Writing became a way of listening: to my own heart, to the natural world, to the whispers of something larger. Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages showed me how to meet myself on the page, honestly and without judgment. That practice stayed with me. Writing still brings me peace, joy, and the kind of clarity that comes only through attention and reflection.
This blog is an offering from that place—a contemplative space shaped by curiosity, longing, love, and a quiet devotion to beauty. It’s a way of tuning in, of learning through presence, of honoring the seasons both within and without. The Wunjo Way is not a fixed path—it’s a practice of becoming, again and again, with wonder and heart.
Me & White Supremacy
What I’ve learned so far about White Supremacy is that it applies to and includes me. That seems so obvious when I write it down, but it certainly was not obvious to me before so I needed to write it down and remember it. I am a product of white supremacy and a bigger part…
Me & White Exceptionalism
My White Exceptionalism is a seductive force tempting me back into ignorance every time I widen my lens and begin to grasp the magnitude of racism and the reach of white supremacy. Exceptionalism is behind every urge that I have to make a case for why my racist behaviors are a misunderstanding or somehow justified,…
Me & White Superiority
Yesterday I had a white fragility meltdown…the kind described by author Dr. Robin DiAngelo in her definition of white fragility. I’m still pretty unglued today staring my White Superiority in the face. I started, stopped and started over 6 different times in my attempt to dig deeper and be all the way honest about my…
Me & White Silence
One of my most dangerous mistakes regarding racism has been to view the word itself as vulgar and it’s meaning only as overt expressions of hatred, superiority over, or prejudice against of BIPOC (Black Indigenous People of Color.) With that definition, there was no way that it applied to me. Not questioning, reevaluating or expanding…
Me & Tone Policing
What I have learned about myself and tone policing is that I center myself, my comfort and feelings over the content & context of what is being expressed to me. I have pushed back from conversations (and friendships) because I have thought to myself, “All they ever talk about is race.” “I can’t handle the…
Me & White Fragility
I’ve learned that my White Fragility is a way of centering myself as a victim and attempting to get others to care-take my hard feelings when I encounter racial stress or discomfort. I’ve noticed my fragile white behavior occurs when it’s been easier and more familiar than acknowledging the overwhelming prevalence and unfairness of structural…
Me & White Privilege
I’ve learned that my white privilege has allowed me to be incredibly ignorant and believe that I wasn’t complicit in the atrocities of racism people of color experience constantly. My white privilege has allowed me to think that I was better than and more evolved than outspoken racists, white supremacists, the alt right, Trump supporters,…
Transience
I’ve been in a struggle with my thoughts, my mind, and my heart. I sometimes feel that I have to fight so hard to find the right thoughts, the good way, or the truth of myself. I know that so many times in the past I’ve found an easier way of being happier, more loving…
Grandpa B
Clarence Edgar Berger died of an instant massive heart attack in the late summer of 1984. He was my mom’s dad. My Grandpa B. He’d always greet me with a big smile, but he didn’t ever say much to me. He was always swatting his dogs with his cane – somehow in a loving way.…
Empowering
I’m proud of the *Brawny Explorers! We were brave, kind and compassionate as we gave out the care packages they put together for folks living on the streets of San Francisco. In 1 hour, we walked around 1 city block and met more than 16 homeless men and women. Witnessing true gratitude (and some relief)…
Sober
From a young age, I understood that alcohol could make people you love do terrible things and behave really badly. I understood that some people were seemingly able to “drink responsibly” and others did not seem to be able to do that. I thought that alcohol tasted disgusting and didn’t understand why anyone would want…
Listening
I find that listening is a gift whether I am the one with open ears and an open heart or I am the one speaking. It’s often actually very challenging for me to just listen, more so with those that aren’t used to being listened to and tend to ask questions or feel uncomfortable with…