Ordained in 1979 from HUC-JIR,
I've served Reform, Conservative, Jewish Renewal, and unafiliated congregations
as rabbi in the US and Canada for over 35 years.


Having trained as a Marriage and Family Therapist,
and having had a private practice I've also worked and taught
in the field of Hospice-Palliative Care, in Seattle, Wa; Vancouver, B.C, and Hot Springs, AR.
Teaching, facilitating groups, and working with individuals.


With a passion for writing and poetry, I've had many works published in books and online .

For more information see 'about me'


Theological Reflections threading through this work

Like most children I was a natural mystic.
Awe-filled, relishing all around me;
the twirling maple seeds cascading from the trees, the antics of the chipmunks,
being mesmerized by the sunset flowing through the bare, black boughs of the
winter trees, their branches etched against the skies.

The prayerbook at my synagogue spoke of God as male, and as a girl I accepted this unthinkingly. 
Growing up with a loving, gentle father, the care of a loving, male God was a natural transfer.

Later I struggled.
Seeing the masculine language in the prayerbook, feeling on the outside, looking in.
Listening to my fathers struggles while we walked the night, as he wondered aloud
how he could possibly believe in God when one and a half million children were murdered in the Holocaust.
His anguish lingering in me.

I feel most aligned with the notion of Spirit present but cloaked in this world.
Felt more powerfully, vividly, in moments,

One might think, hearing the voice of these prayer-poems and writings,
that I'm a clear-eyed woman of faith, having found a permanent religious home.
Yet indeed I've the mystic within,
am still on the road, a wanderer,
seeking kindred souls.

Long ago when first hearing the Midrash of God having 70 voices, 70 names, appearing differently to each person,
that deeply touched me.
Of the Holy Who unceasingly unfolds.

Thus when initially composing these prayer-poems and rituals as a younger woman and feminist,
I purposively sought and used names of God that were non-sexist yet moored in Jewish liturgical history,
not widely in use at that time, to reintroduce them to a wider circle,
to push open the box, give more breath.

I imagine the Holy trying to speak to us
through the moons, the sacred times, the seasons,
through the movements of nature.
I imagined these as routes by which Spirit tries to reach to us,
trying to instruct us,
as we rather blindly seek to create our lives,
trying to shape lives of meaning, beauty, and aliveness.

I imagined Spirit feeling towards me that which I feel for my daughter,
that deep, fierce, loving, beyond words.
And from that place, I wrote.

At times I can feel the underlying bedrock of the spiritual flowing through the universe undergirding my days.

I start my day with these prayer-poems anchoring myself in the moon, holy day.
Then move to my homemade prayerbook woven with images of nature.
Stopping here widens my frame.
I rise up from those pages, heartened, with more to me.
With a greater sense of the intricate interconnection of life, with a deeper clarity,
and most times, with a feeling of peace, a readiness to greet the opportunity
of the new day.

I hope these reflections will help enable you to more comfortably explore these works.

Perhaps opening too to the possibility of relating to the One Who is elusive, hidden,
and perhaps,
seeking you.









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