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About Barbara
I’m Barbara Falconer Newhall and I’ve got a serious case of the human condition.
I’ve done it all: career, family, house, garden, and a prize-winning book, "Wrestling with God." The result: I'm a woman of years, lots of them, who can't help seeing things from the funny side.
Tucked away on this website are hundreds of riffs on life. I hope you’ll seek them out – and keep me company as I discover the humor, if not the meaning, in what life throws my way. Learn More
THE LATEST
My Mother Was a 1950s Tradwife. She Wanted It. She Got It
My mother was a tradwife, a bona fide 1950s tradwife. That’s what she wanted. That’s what she got. Read more.
BARBARA’S BOOK
★ Publishers Weekly, starred review
Any seeker of any faith will be blessed to read the words of this fine author and observer. Read more.
An inveterate doubter for most of her adult life, journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall embarks upon a quest to find a way to believe in God in the twenty-first century.
The result is Wrestling with God: Stories of Doubt and Faith, which details her search for the Divine in the lives of diverse Americans – from a fundamentalist Christian to a progressive Muslim to a Buddhist monk.Seekers of all persuasions will feel represented here, from priests, ministers, and rabbis to engineers, physicists, and avowed non-believers . . . a riverflow of a book. — Phil Cousineau, host of PBS’s Global Spirit
Recent Riffs on Life
The Trouble With Poinsettias
The trouble with poinsettias is — they don’t know that Christmas is over and it’s time to make an exit. Read more.
Widowed: If I Visit His Grave, Will It Help?
I said hello to Jon and his family, and then there was nothing more to do in this graveyard. Read more.
DON’T MISS!
It’s Here! A Copy of “Wrestling with God” Has Arrived
It arrived on Monday. There it was right outside the front door. A small brown package. And inside — a copy of my book, “Wrestling with God: Stories of Doubt and Faith.” Read more.
Widowed: Where’s My Lead Pony?
A lead pony is the seasoned horse who escorts a anxious racehorse to the gate, exerting a calming presence. I’m widowed. Where’s my lead pony? Read more.
San Juan Islands Flora: Or, I Cling, Therefore I Am
We cling. We cling to stuff. We cling to moments in time. On vacation last summer I clung to the verdant San Juan Islands flora. Read more.