
More than one hundred years ago, a small group of women joined together and decided to create their own village, one rooted in relationship and guided by spirit. They weren’t the first such women-led town in the country – there was a web of sister villages throughout America, some formed as early as the seventeenth century – but Chantilly Lace was unique. Rising out of the dust of an abandoned Gold Rush era in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, a time when many women were abandoned by men seeking further adventures or widowed when husbands lost their lives in the mines, this mostly female community determined its own fate. Now the modern women (and a minority of men) faced new challenges in the twenty-first century: how would they adapt and thrive?
If this had been true, how might things be different now for all of us?
The above sets the stage for a fictional series of books I’ve been writing (the first book is complete). The locale was always going to be a small town in the Rockies (because I’ve lived there), but the broader ideas about the town’s development have been evolving steadily, especially since the last presidential election. I keep asking myself how a culture based upon principles of peace and values of belonging, established firmly upon a spiritual core, might function in our capitalist patriarchy.
How can change happen in real life if we can’t imagine it in fiction? I’m challenging myself to make it happen.
Continue reading “How Can Change Happen If We Can’t Imagine It First? by Darla Graves Palmer”




There might be lots of lessons to consider. These lessons might have holes, for I’m not a wise sage, and I’m not really even a mother. As I am a couple of years from 40, I think about what lessons I would teach my daughter if I had one, lessons to honor her physicality, lessons to create space for her soul. What do you think of these lessons? Would I be a bad mother?
I was once asked “why do I stay Muslim”? That was the question prompt, and it begged an answer. A deep, well thought out, articulate, and concise answer. Shamefully, at that time in my life, I was stumped. I was speechless a long while, because I couldn’t think fast or clear enough to answer with sincerity. At that time, whatever I wanted to say, just sounded like the “schtick” — for example “oh, yes I stay Muslim because Islam stands for peace, and I’m a peaceful person so this is my biggest reason..(next day – terrorist attack by “Muslims” totally negating my “why”)… and other similarly situated examples as such. So, I knew my why had to be more layered, more significant and pragmatic, yet exciting.
I served as general editor for the recently published 

