Listening—true listening—is not just about sound.

It’s about attunement.

It’s about opening ourselves to the wisdom that is already here—in the people we love, in the world around us, in the silence we too often avoid.

And when we start listening, we realize:

The universe has been speaking to us all along.

We just needed to be quiet enough to hear it.

When I first stepped into the role of a hospice chaplain, I thought I knew what to expect.

I thought my job would be about providing comfort, offering prayers, and holding space for the dying.

And it is.

But what I didn’t expect was how much I would be changed.

How sitting with people in their final days would reshape the way I think about time, love, regret, and what really matters.

How witnessing death up close would make me more alive.

I’ve learned that hospice isn’t about death.

It’s about life—how we live, how we love, and what we carry with us in the end.

And these are the lessons I’m learning, one bedside conversation at a time.

I used to think rituals were something formal—things reserved for weddings, religious ceremonies, or life’s big transitions.

But over the years, I’ve learned that some of the most meaningful rituals aren’t found in grand celebrations.

They are in the first sip of morning coffee.
The way we tuck our kids in at night.
The quiet moment of stillness before stepping into a busy day.