1.19.2026 Porous Heart-Bones
Hello dear Friends,
“She was a mom” – The Washington Post, January 14, 2026
Her glovebox filled with stuffed animals, her dog in the backseat of her car, her wife watching on. This image, the detailed reports, the timeline down to 399 milliseconds before Renee Good’s death: the two minutes before the shooting, 22 seconds before the shooting, 15 seconds before the shooting, 5 seconds before the shooting.
Gunfire erupts.
The moments of rupture after Renee Good’s shooting: the shock for her, the shock for us, the exhalation of her last breath that remains here in all of us. She had just dropped off her six-year-old at school—as a mom, I cannot shake this. These are the moments that halt us, horrify us, and scare us (super-scary), that wake us up. Today, this is what is here for me.
I cannot make sense of any of this. The only thing I can make sense of is to not let her last breath—her gasp—go unheard. Let her life be an awakening. Let all the causes and conditions that led to her cold death touch my skin, roll around my insides, touch every organ, and open me to what is intimate and true in my heart.
The pain of this hurting world, the scars we each carry—the tiredness and devotion required to live in this world of blood and bones—is not easy, makes it hard to stay awake. As my meditation teacher, Dona, would say after any intense moment of raw awakening, “Don’t go back to sleep. Don’t go into ‘ignore.’” My spiritual director, Simon, says it too, from a similar yet different view, “Do not piss away the Sacred.”
I refuse to not let this be the Sacred, too. Maybe this helps me make sense of the senseless, but each of you here reading knows this truth: that out of our deepest “horrible-horribles,” out of our “shattered-into-a-million-broken-brokens,” when we have no idea how we will ever move or make it through, we somehow do.
Somehow, we open as vast as the star-dusted dark sky. Perhaps this is grace—I know no other word to name this indescribable, miraculous bloom. All I know is this is how we seem to grow sturdy, porous heart-bones—how we become more and more human, made from the soft marrow of the quietest joy and the darkest sorrow.
Perhaps Renee Good’s last breath—which she undoubtedly did not know or see coming—is now something much, much bigger. I pray. Perhaps this last gasp of air is now a carrier of hope: a light, a prayer for our hurting, holy, troubled world and fragile country.
When all the conditions are correct, manifestation happens—may we not forget this science—every breath of prayer, kindness, and goodness does add up! Does become the energy of evolution. This I trust. May all the senseless-horrific in our world, in Renee Good’s death, wake us up for the benefit of all. This I pray.
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Gratitude pouring & Happy New Year!
Love, Wini
PS …more goodness below, made with ♥️
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🌸 Two Poems. “Poems come out of wonder, not out of knowing.” ― Lucille Clifton
At the River Clarion | Mary Oliver ( 1 of 7 Cantos)
I.
I don't know who God is exactly.
But I'll tell you this.
I was sitting in the river named Clarion, on a
water splashed stone
and all afternoon I listened to the voices
of the river talking....
And slowly, very slowly, it became clear to me
what they were saying.
Said the river I am part of holiness.
And I too, said the stone. And I too, whispered
the moss beneath the water.
I'd been to the river before, a few times.
Don't blame the river that nothing happened quickly.
You don't hear such voices in an hour or a day.
You don't hear them at all if selfhood has stuffed your ears.
And it's difficult to hear anything anyway, through
all the traffic, the ambition.
🍃 Listen, the entire poem here read by my spiritual director, Simon DeVoid
The Sixth of January | David Budbill
The cat sits on the back of the sofa looking
out the window through the softly falling snow
at the last bit of gray light.
I can’t say the sun is going down.
We haven’t seen the sun for two months.
Who cares?
I am sitting in the blue chair listening to this stillness.
The only sound: the occasional gurgle of tea
coming out of the pot and into the cup.
How can this be?
Such calm, such peace, such solitude
in this world of woe.
🍃 It is bone crunching cold here in Chicago, the sun comes out for moments, mostly it’s a patch of gray sky. This poem, this blue chair, this listening to stillness and the pour of tea, this peace I wish for you.
🌸 Three Quotes | Saadi Shirazi. Maria Popova. Brianna Wiest.
“The human race is a single being created from one jewel. If one member is struck all must feel the blow. Only someone who cares for the pain of others can truly be called human.” — Persian Poet, Saadi Shirazi (13th Century)
“It is not easy, in these lives haunted by loneliness and loss, menaced by war and heartbreak, witness to genocides and commonplace cruelties, to live in gratitude. And yet it may be the only thing that saves us from mere survival. In these blamethirsty times, to praise is an act of courage and resistance. To insist on what is beautiful without turning away from the broken. To bless what is simply for being, knowing that none of it had to be.” — Maria Popova, The Marginalian newsletter, November 26, 2025.
“If you see it, love it, and you know what it is not yet yours, study it. Examine it. Spend as much time with it as possible. Ask yourself: what makes this beautiful to me? This is how you get to know yourself, this is how you define your contours, your edges, the distinctions that make you who you really are. This is how you come to understand what it is you really want to create, what really inspires you, what really makes you want to be alive.” — Brianna Wiest, Day 139, The Pivot Year
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🌸 Some Sweet Tender Offerings | Monks Walking, Short Clips & Movies to Watch
Day 86. I cannot help to keep spreading the word about the Monks Walking for Peace. In the middle of all the sorrows of this month, following these monks, adds goodness and light to my heart! Breeds hope. It is a 2,300-mile journey, Buddhist monks walking from Fort Worth, Texas, to Washington, D.C. Here is their live map; follow on Instagram
A Poem to be heard, read again and again. A poem needed for today — a poem for this era, “Kindness” by Naomi Shihab Nye. Read it here. Or, give a listen to Emma Thompson reading “Kindness” here
A short clip with John Green, a writer that I admire, speaks of despair and hope. A hope that holds up in our world today. Another interview to dive (48:16 min) into with the author of “The Fault in Our Stars” and “Everything Is Tuberculosis.”
Two movies not to miss on the big screen, Hamnet and Sentimental Value. Both movies speak of compassion. Both beautifully done. Hamnet holds the between the veils. The conscious choices and sacrifices we make. Sentimental Value, speaks to cracks, the generational patterns. Both movies speak of healing.
My son sent me this clip with a note, “The way Chloe Zhao talks and thinks feels very Metta Monday to me in some ways.”
I love this short clip (6:58 min) with Chloé Zhao Reveals How She & Jessie Buckley Found Hamnet's Ending Four Days Before Wrap –speaks to presence, how we create, what happens when we become aligned with nature.
And one more treasure find, Jesse Buckley singing a tribute to Sinead O’Connor. Who knew an outstanding actor and a stunning voice
“In that moment when he felt oneness, then he realized that love doesn’t die it just transforms” — Chloé Zhao
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🌸🎶 Closing Song | Sending you Light…
…to heal you, to hold you, I am sending you light to hold you in love.”
A song to fill your heart, “Sending You Light”, written and sung by Melanie DeMore. Or, listen on YouTube here (5:13 min) gorgeous medicine for our world. Soak in. May you feel this blessing come into your bones.
“I am sending you Light, To heal you, To hold you
I am sending you Light, To hold you in Love
I am sending you Light, To heal you, To hold you
I am sending you Light, To hold you in Love
No matter where you go
No matter where you’ve been
You’ll never walk alone
I feel you deep within”
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🌸🙏 Dedicate Merit | In all Mystical traditions, there is a closing prayer – prayers of blessing, gratitude and protection.
To Keep Her and Her Family Safe
Tears erupt from my eyes
as she scrapes the I heart
URUGUAY sticker off her
silver car. I remember the day
she put it on—wild passion
for a land and people she loves
that lives inked, six inches wide
on her left thigh. In twelve months’
time she sits on the same ground,
bent over, razor blade in her hand
scratching off glue, the face
and flames of yellow sun. Now
those horizontal stripes, blue
and white, could be anyone's.
I watch my friend continue, cut
into paint. She stops when she
finds the steel frame. ICE is in her
neighborhood going door to door.
“May all beings be safe and protected, this I wish for everyone. May we awaken fully in order to help all beings.” – love, Wini
Have a blessed day 💖
🌸 PS. You can find all the newsletters archived on my website.
These newsletters will always be free—and if you appreciate receiving these weekly offerings grounded in tender-goodness please consider offering support through Buy Me a Coffee, 🌸 venmo (Winifred-Nimrod) 🌸 or zelle (wininim@gmail.com) 🌸
Thank you, I am a one-woman, two-finger typing, unfolding her thousand-petal bloom.
✨ May we bloom more Light.
💞 May we grow more Goodness for the healing of all.
🌎 May each of us thread our heart-tenderness, our Beauty, into the fabric of our planet.
….Until next week. 💖 ✨
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.
- Mary Oliver
Website: https://www.wininimrod.com/
