The Cottage
The Cottage is Diana’s newsletter, published on the Substack platform. All subscribers receive two posts each week, one on a matter of topical interest and another, Sunday Musings, usually focused on that week’s lectionary text. Paid subscribers receive additional posts, participate in monthly Zoom conversations and interviews with leading thinkers, and occasional special series.
Drop in. Sit down. This is a place to explore faith and spirituality. Especially for those who feel dissatisfied, discomforted, or uncertain about religion — and who need a different angle, a new view of things of the spirit. Here you’ll find both inspiration and thoughtful commentary. My door is open.
Notice: this space isn’t The Sanctuary or The Parsonage or even The Retreat. This is The Cottage. That’s because I’m not a clergy person or a paid religious professional. I’m a writer, speaker, and itinerant teacher.
And The Cottage is a real place in my backyard where I write, think, reflect, and even meditate and pray.
Virginia Woolf famously wrote that a woman needed a room of her own to write. My house is too modest for a separate office (I wrote two of my early books in my family room!), so we built this cottage in our yard to accommodate my library and my work. From here, I’ve written blogs, articles, essays, and books – and these days it serves as a makeshift television and recording studio! I look out of the Cottage to the garden and from there out to the world, which means that I view spirituality, religion, and faith from my backyard.
But unlike Virginia Woolf, I didn’t want to keep the cottage as my “own.” I wanted to open it up, invite in my friends and readers, to share the magic and the hard work of this space — and so I created The Cottage on Substack. Here, I’ll share what I’m writing, what trends I see, how faith is growing and changing, issues of concern, and things that I find interesting or challenging or beautiful. And, as The Cottage community grows, I’ll host conversations and threads so we can get to know each other — and share our questions, concerns, hopes, and gratitudes. It is good to have friends in these hard days. To feel less alone.
And, by way of full introduction, I am a Christian (even though that label is more than a bit awkward these days) and I write from that perspective, with a generous heart toward wisdom wherever it is found. The “creed” that guides me most closely aligns with these 1,000 year old words from the mystical poet Ibn Arabi:
There was a time I would reject those
who were not of my faith.
But now, my heart has grown capable
of taking on all forms.
It is a pasture for gazelles,
An abbey for monks.
A table for the Torah,
Kaaba for the pilgrim.
My religion is love.
Whichever the route love’s caravan shall take,
That shall be the path of my faith.
Or, in the simple words of Jesus: “Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself.”
Wherever you are on your journey, I’m glad your route has led to The Cottage.
Sunday Musings - Excerpt
Many people think Easter is a day — and that day is now passed, the family gatherings over, the candy eaten.
By ancient Christian tradition, however, Easter is a season — fifty days to celebrate resurrection, new life, joy, and hope. Easter is Christianity’s greatest feast following Lent’s great fast. The fifty days of Easter include seven Sundays, the final Sunday of Easter (this year) being May 21.
In many ways, Easter is particularly counter-cultural these days. Gloominess, fear, anxiety, attack, distrust, and stress are the emotional coin of the realm. Where I live outside of Washington, D.C., it is almost as if you aren’t allowed to be joyful: Don’t you know about gun violence? What about the attack on voting rights? Did you hear what just happened in Florida (fill in the state-of-the-week-outrage)? How can you make jokes when the worst climate report ever was just released? OMG, did you read that story in the Post?
Informed people — serious people — are on top of it all — and aren’t going to feast for fifty days. We don’t have time for that. We’ve got to get to work.
On these seven Sundays of Easter, I’m going to go to an unacceptable place: to joy, celebration, wonder, and awe. During the week, we can take time for those other things — the headlines, the things that take us to despair. But here, on the first day of these weeks, we’re going to feast on the promises of new life.
You can expect this season’s Sunday Musings to be a little different…