Reflections in the Silver Cup


August 28, 2018

Tags: holiday gift, moving sale, half price

It's NEVER TOO SOON to be thinking about GIVING.
 Holiday gifts.
  Birthday gifts.
   Just Because gifts.

Or because you know just the person who needs this book now!

I'm moving next month and doing my best to lighten my load by selling signed copies of To Drink from the Silver Cup at HALF PRICE. That's $10 plus shipping. Or if you're in Albuquerque, we might be able to arrange free delivery or pick-up! This is a limited-time offer–good only until September 27.

Who might you buy it for? This will give you an idea:

This is a story for anyone who has left a faith community for any reason: disbelief, rigid morality, the choice of an unacceptable partner, finding science incompatible with religious teachings, sexual orientation, to name a few. It is for anyone who is questioning whether their faith still works for them. It is for people who have separated from their family of origin because of differing ideals or cultural pressures. It is for people who still live in their place of origin while caring about those who have left. It is for people who have never questioned their faith in any meaningful way.

Want to know a little more?

This is the story of a journey away from the evangelical faith that was the core of my existence as a child, adolescent, and young adult. it is about the emptying out of that faith and about longing for what was lost. It is about seeking a way to return when I no longer believed the things that my community had instilled in me as fundamental to the faith.

To buy, click on the link beneath the photo or go to the Works tab in the Menu and click on To Drink from the Silver Cup


August 10, 2018

Tags: Scandinavian Yoga and Meditation School, Håå Course Center

Course Center in Håå, Sweden
I delivered the potato and carrot peelings into the compost bins at the back of the kitchen garden and started back with my empty bucket. Then I stopped and stood still to feel the change in the air. The angle of the sun had moved ever so slightly, and the air smelled different—cleaner, crisper, still warm, but not as warm. No leaves had changed color yet; it was early August, 1984, at the Scandinavian Yoga and Meditation School in Håå, Southern Sweden. I knew, “Autumn is here. Now. This day. Here near the top of the world. No doubt.” This was a defining moment, perhaps my first awareness of a defining moment. I recall that time again and again for its sharpness.

Around that same time, on a beach on the island of Crete, I decided that our campsite had gotten to feeling helter-skelter, that it needed some organization. I moved sleeping bags, backpacks, bicycles, the folded-up Helly Hansen ponchos we used as shelter when the dew was heavy or it rained. I placed and replaced them into more functional and pleasing harmony. Then I hefted large, smooth beach stones and placed them in a wide circle around the space where Irene and I had camped. Home. As I surveyed the whole, I said to myself, “I’m good at this. I’m good at making home wherever I am. I hadn’t thought this before then.

For the past several days I have been camping out in the Earthship where I will make my home in October. I keep my food and pots and pans and utensils in my camp kitchen box, a large flat plastic bin made for storing boots. The refrigerator is small, dorm-room size. As I prepared lunch one day, I noted that I was moving with ease, knowing where everything was. There was order, simplicity. Noting, defining—I feel at home here, even though I am really camping indoors. It’s because I have made order, made home.

The next morning I carried the dishwater out to the pistachio tree surrounded by its bed of purple four o’clocks—tsidideeh—and I felt such a sense of domesticity, of making this place mine, of knowing I will live here. The defining moments are so often demarcated by the details of life, the small things, the things that give us pleasure or bear us across the line from one season to another, one awareness to another, one time or place to the next.

Please share one of your defining moments.

© Anna Redsand 2018 All Rights Reserved


July 31, 2018

Tags: bear, Bassett, Regina

Scene: Upper story, beautiful rammed earth house, Nacimiento Mountains, Regina, NM, 3:30 am, silence of night in the dark forest. And then: the deep-throated baying of Ninja the Bassett hound. Cranky, I struggled out of bed and down the stairs, thinking the old boy must need to pee. He ignored me and my silly questions, "Do you need to go out? Do you need to pee?" and continued to bark nonstop at the huge bay windows facing the woods. I turned on a light, which of course meant I could see nothing outside. I turned it back off and peered into the moonlit clearing and the trees beyond. Everything appeared to be as it should, but Ninja would not, indeed could not, stop barking. I trudged back upstairs, and around 4:15 I went back to sleep; he was still barking, and I have no idea when he stopped.

At 6 am, I got up, fixed Ninja's food bowl and also calico Portia's. After the 20 seconds it took the hound to inhale his food, he headed outdoors, barking all over again for the next (more…)


July 22, 2018

Tags: Earthships, Michael Reynolds, sustainable housing

Gray waves sough gently, rocking to and fro. Then a form breaks the surface–a dolphin's graceful arc. Or it's the comical bounce of a jack rabbit's ears. The sea and the high desert–so like one another and yet so unlike. At first glance there is only the surface, no sign of life other than water or the rocking fronds of sagebrush. But beneath the surface these two vast bodies teem with life–in the ocean, fish of every kind and color imaginable and unimaginable, ocean mammals, crustaceans; in the desert, reptiles in their hideaways, burrowing insects and small mammals, coyotes, cottontails, horned toads, and blue-tailed racers sheltering beneath the saltbushes.

And so an Earthship, originating in (more…)


July 10, 2018

Tags: earthship, Gallup, Gamerco, moving

When I came back from my last tour, I wrote that I was in transition. At the time, I thought the transition would mainly involve the next step in my writing--what to write next, how to work on getting existing material published, even whether I'd continue writing or not.

But there turns out to be more. I'm preparing for Move Number 66. To Narnia. What could be better than (more…)


June 30, 2018

Tags: Facebook, sign up, newsletter

98th Cottonwood Pass Campmeeting
Joining Facebook was like falling down a cozy rabbit hole. I loved finding out what my friends were doing and what was important to them. I loved reconnecting with friends I hadn't seen or heard from in years, and I loved making new friends. I loved hearing about events like the nostalgic one pictured here–a campmeeting that we went to every year when I was young. I loved posting photos and seeing friends' responses. I started getting a lot of my news on FB. I found out about social actions I could be part of. I used FB to make people aware of (more…)


June 14, 2018

Tags: travel, routine, book tour

At ABQ Pride 2018, me at bottom left
When I was sixteen, I had a bad car accident that was my fault. To top it off, the Gallup Independent published a photo of the wrecked car with an accompanying story on the front page. Cuts around my swollen lips had to be stitched. I was, at the time, being systematically and severely bullied at school, and after the story in the paper those boys had even more to throw my way. And they did.

My father insisted, not unkindly, that I had to get right back on the horse (in this case into the driver’s seat of the car) and drive. He said if I waited, (more…)


May 22, 2018

Tags: transition, art, creativity

At the end of a major creative project, including the work of getting it seen by hundreds, I think (without anxiety for once) that perhaps I am at the end of my writing career. Or I feel it will, it must, now take a different direction. I am in transition. And transition is a space I love. Maybe it’s why I’ve moved so often—65 times now. I love it because everything is in free-flow. Anything is possible. I am the one to give it form. I know I will continue to create, but what? How?

I have used The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron at least three times, and it was a wonderful guide into freeing and opening the mind. But I need something different. Oh, I will always practice Morning Pages, and I want to be better about Artist Dates, but I need something new to jiggle me loose. I remembered (more…)


May 17, 2018

Tags: spiritual seeking, seeker

Guest Post
Beth Holloway Oer

One morning while I was on tour in Ohio, staying with my friend Shelley, she got a text message from her friend Beth, who lives in Germany but is originally from the US. Beth had seen an event Shelley posted about one of my upcoming readings and was intrigued by what the posting said about To Drink from the Silver Cup. She went online to try to order it, but at first it seemed she couldn’t get it in Germany, and she had messaged Shelley for suggestions. A few minutes later she reported success and also sent me a friend request. Later I got a message about how much healing had taken place through her reading of the book. In particular she mentioned my rewritten version of the Apostles Creed. As we exchanged thoughts and experiences, she mentioned (more…)


April 23, 2018

Tags: LGBT Christian, LGBT church


Cultivating warmth in a church, as I suggested in my last post, can mean a deep change in a church’s culture—perhaps too challenging to begin with. But there are smaller things that a church can do to make it safe for LGBTQ people to attend. One of them is very simple but may require courage.

Last week I read to another small group in a private home. The conversation that took place after I read was more important than (more…)