mamawolfe

finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously

Wherever You Are Is Called Here: Poetry from David Wagoner

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Wherever You Are Is Called Here: Poetry from David Wagoner

Jennifer Wolfe
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Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe at jenniferwolfe.net.
Jennifer Wolfe
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Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it, you may […]

All That Glorious, Temporary Stuff: Poetry By Mary Oliver

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All That Glorious, Temporary Stuff: Poetry By Mary Oliver

Jennifer Wolfe
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Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe at jenniferwolfe.net.
Jennifer Wolfe
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Latest posts by Jennifer Wolfe (see all)

Meditation, so I’ve heard, is best accomplished if you entertain a certain strict posture. Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree. So why should I think I could ever be successful? Some days I fall asleep, or land in that even better place – half-asleep – where the world, spring, summer, autumn, winter […]

It’s A Different Kind of Christmas

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It’s A Different Kind of Christmas

Jennifer Wolfe
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Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe at jenniferwolfe.net.
Jennifer Wolfe
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Latest posts by Jennifer Wolfe (see all)

I’m sitting cross legged on the couch, recently rearranged to directly face the six foot high Douglass fir that stands regally in our front window. at this hour of the morning the house is blissfully quiet, the only audible sound being the ticking of the kitchen clock and the occasional hum of the refrigerator to […]