Terry Tempest Williams

Williams tells the story of her initiation by the living land when she was 7 years old. While taking a school trip she ended up alone, in the dark, in Mount Timpanogos Cave. For a brief but powerful moment she felt the beating heart of the mountain. She says, "For the rest of my life I've been trying to retrieve that sacred space I felt inside that mountain alone. I have been searching for that moment when you're part of something so old, so deep,...

Terry takes us on a whirlwind tour of what it means to give voice to our own authenticity. It requires deep listening and fertile silences. She encourages us to speak "Mother Tongue" - speaking from the belly rather than the mind. She laments that in Western culture "the language of economics has power, the language of the law has power, the language of science has power. But an intelligence of the heart, an emotional intelligence, or a poetic sensibility,...

Here we stare down our present situation without flinching but with radical hope as Williams reminds us that love and beauty are felt in chaos and heartbreak. Healing is going beyond anger; It's a process of eroding and evolving at once. We must let go of our certainty to come back into a place of communion and communication with each other and with the earth.

"A personal, lyrical, and idiosyncratic ode to our national parks"-- Provided by publisher. "For years, America's national parks have provided public breathing spaces in a world in which such spaces are steadily disappearing, which is why close to 300 million people visit the parks each year. Now, to honor the centennial of the National Park Service, Terry Tempest Williams, the author of the beloved memoir When Women Were Birds, returns with The...

The author's mother told her that the journals she was leaving must not be opened until after death. Her mother was one of a large Mormon clan in northern Utah who developed cancer as a result of the nuclear testing in nearby Utah. It was a shock to the author to discover that her mother had kept journals. But not as much of a shock as what she found when the time came to read them. In fifty-four chapters that unfold like a series of yoga poses, each...

In these new essays, Williams explores the concept of erosion: of the land, of the self, of belief, of fear. She wrangles with the paradox of desert lands and the truth of erosion: What is weathered, worn, and whittled away through wind, water, and time is as powerful as what remains.