My youngest son is readying for another adventure. One that involves rolled up clothes in duffel bags, a passport, and another continent. He can’t wait. By now, he’s at the airport. Or on a plane, happily off into the wild blue that called his father, his grandfathers. Given history, it will be at least a year…

This is the way I always remember my father. He was much younger than I am now — 20 years or so. Today is his birthday: he would be 99, were he still with us. Although (of course) he is, for his four daughters. Whenever we get together, old stories join us. Sometimes even new…

It’s been a while. I plead flu, travel, a rambunctious grandson of not-quite-three, and life in general. Somehow, when people spoke of retirement, I had thought it would be both emptier of duties and more peaceful. (I was misinformed…) I also had a birthday, in my favourite month: National Poetry Month. I’ve been reading &…

I have a love-hate relationship with social media these days. One year I gave it up for Lent, and I should have just kept driving in that direction. It’s a time sink of the worst order — a veritable black hole. Not to mention how it saps energy! (And creativity…) That’s the bad news. The love part…

Britton Gildersleeve
about

Britton Gildersleeve

Britton Gildersleeve is a 'third culture kid.' Years spent living on the margins - in places with exotic names and food shortages - have left her with a visceral response to folks ‘without,’ as well as a desire to live her Buddhism in an engaged fashion. She’s a writer and a teacher, the former director of a federal non-profit for teachers who write. She believes that if we talk to each other, we can learn to love each other (but she's still learning how). And she believes in tea. She is (still) working on her beginner's heart ~

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