“How do you meet the desert? Your approach matters. I have lived most my life in the desert, and this environment has formed my affinity to space, quiet, and the hours of morning before the relentless sun slows my thinking. I am still learning to enjoy the slow pace the sun demands by midday in the summer months—releasing movement into stillness. But it will always be the cool mornings that have my full attention; afternoons will have my surrender. ”

“The blossoms are not the fruit, but a reminder of things still yet to com—to fruition. These delicate blossoms are there to say, “not yet, but slow down and enjoy the beauty of this moment, this phase.” They are fragile, so be gentle. Take in this soft place because it will not last. This is nature’s creative way of giving us a sign: this is growth, and something will indeed come of it. We cannot make it happen. We can only wait, watch, and take in the beauty. ”

“When you sit with an elderwoman, you listen. Deeply. Because you will think you have a list of important questions until you understand that there must be silence as she searches for what she wants to share with you in that moment—do not interrupt her silence.

There will be laughter at how absurd life can be; and there will a piercing poetry. In this anxious, overwhelmed, overstimulated and over-exposed world—the elderwomen have a pace, like torque, that will move you—slowly and with power. ”