Mo Duffy

Radiant White Light: An Evening of Inside-Out Illumination

Some evenings feel less like events and more like small openings in the universe—moments when people gather not just to celebrate a book, but to celebrate the quiet courage it takes all of us to live honestly. The launch of Radiant White Light was one of those evenings, and I couldn’t be more proud — and grateful — to have celebrated it with all of you.

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have words, will travel

What a pleasure to get this in my inbox – the cover of my new book! Unpacked: from PEI to Palawan is the story…

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things writers need

You are where my heart is happy, my next best paragraph, my acceptance letters, and the reason i continue to do what i do.

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What were you thinking?

Something funny has started happening to me since I’ve begun writing full time. I live completely in my head, extending my week into one long metaphor, my perception jagging in every which direction as I shift the angles for a better view on the page, something more interior, something deepened. I don’t notice where i am in space, that’s too unimportant.

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the birth of advocacy

Every time the world loses one more beautiful baby, I lose Tya again. And this is the third beautiful baby this year I’ve said goodbye to, before i got to say hello.

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Surf Baby

According to the Stanford School of Medicine, every single cell in our skeleton is replaced every seven years. Does that mean that that I was a different person this time, on that beach in Tofino? A unique person with hopes and dreams, looking back on the shadow self of years behind me?

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[insert deity here]

When I returned home from walking the dog last night, the dusk had turned to dark.

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five years of gratitude

BUT THE THINGS THAT REALLY HELPED ME THROUGH THE GRIEF WEREN’T THINGS. THEY WERE PEOPLE.

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Once, I was a king

This got me thinking about the strange juxapositions that we find ourselves in throughout the course of our lives, and perhaps even beyond them. How does this happen: in one moment, I’m a king, and in the next, I’m a parking lot.

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Your Year in Unfinished Blogs

I prance around my kitchen, dancing to my loud, wild drum beats. The six year old is at the neighbor’s and the husband’s out for a drink. I inhale deeply, breathing it in. Life.

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