A Weaver and Teacher

Richard Goode is a genius and gentle weaver and teacher. He pulls the threads of our common and individual experiences through deep nsights from literature, philosophy, religion, and the natural and more -than- human world. Each podcast invites us to pay attention to our ordinary lives and the places and experiences we share with other beings. Goode radiates warmth in his welcome, storytelling, reporting on his surrounds and doings, and the wisdom he has gleaned from years of study and living. In each episode, I've found connection, comfort and the gentle challenge and joy that comes with learning something new.

It was my dad's birthday when I listened to Goode's July 28 episode on walking his father's ashes home. He spoke of the heaviness of the ashes he carried, noting that this weight is similar to that of a newborn baby. Although my dad's death was not recent, the feelings Goode described became very present to me. Goode walked through the familiar streets carrying his father's ashes, astonished that the traffic continued and shops were open. I remembered how bewildered , disoriented, and lost I , too, felt on that early morning of my dad's death: How could it be that the world hadn't stopped when this momentous thing had happened? I left my dad's body in the care of others and walked out to a world that hadn't changed. It felt impossible.

As the podcast moved into the sign-off details, I realized something new and with it, a quiet comfort settled in: These were the same feelings and questions that surfaced when I carried my newborn babies out into the world, for the first time. Even with the second birth, I remembered feeling disoriented and more than a ittle lost. I clearly remembered asking, "Why isn't the traffic stopping? How can the world be the same when this momentous and precious thing has happened?"

Thank you to Richard Goode for creating a podcast that invites connection, comfort, and a gentle challenge to more deeply see, understand, and honor our lives and world to which we belong.