New Moon... New Insight
June didn’t arrive gently—it settled in like weather you have to learn to live inside. Heat, salt air, long light days that stretch everything thin. The Gulf Coast is moving toward full summer without asking permission. And in the middle of it, life continues its quieter accounting. In these first days of the month, there was tending. Not grand tending—small, necessary tending. The kind that doesn’t announce itself as spiritual work but turns out to be exactly that. Care shows up in repetition: being with Dad for several days, checking on his father’s rhythms, noticing what he eats, what he refuses, what passes through without comment. The quiet accounting of another person’s survival becomes its own kind of prayer. There are moments when it feels like holding a fragile thread between past and present, memory and what is still possible. And alongside that, there is my own body insisting on being included in the conversation. It speaks in fatigue, in pressure, in the reminder...