July 15, 2019

We keep looking for a home though each of us is a home. And no matter where we run, we land before each other, thoroughly exposed. This is the purpose of gravity—to wear us down till we realize we are each other. Though we think we’re alone, we all meet here. Though we start out trying to climb over each other, we wind up asking to be held. It just takes some of us longer to land here than others…. Read more

July 2, 2019

One of the great masters of the long walk through time is the Earth itself, as it turns ever so slowly on its axis, turning in place forever. This unconscious devotion to being sustains all life and keeps the mountains and oceans from spinning into space. This great and silent teacher holds the secret of being. For we are each born with an unconscious devotion to turn in place around the unseeable center. And in doing so, we sustain all… Read more

June 24, 2019

I pause under that summer tree, the one that feels like a friend, as my dog wonders why we’ve stopped. She was trotting in such rhythm. But when this still, I wonder what part of me, way down, remains untouched by dream or memory? What drop of being remains out of reach of the opinions of others? When up close, each thing reveals its shimmer. And it’s the unexpected closeness that holds everything together. The light spreads across my dog’s… Read more

June 17, 2019

Dogs can hear well beyond the range of human hearing. In California, it’s been reported that dogs have heard the beginnings of earthquakes before seismographs could register their initial tremor. In just this way, there are those of us whose ability to feel, see, and hear others is beyond our normal range of compassion. We call them empaths or psychics. And we often discredit them because what they know because is beyond what we can sense. A central physic of… Read more

June 10, 2019

Now that I am here, I am somewhat ashamed at my long insistence on there. Now that I am loved, I am sorry for the hurts I caused in my want to be loved. Now that I can see, I am humbled by my desperate attempts to be seen.   Such a long, unforeseen road to simply be without defining myself by others, for others, in compliance with or resistance to.   Such an arduous path to breathe in the… Read more

June 4, 2019

After ten years of swimming, I stopped when Eleanor died. She was one of several dear ones who had left the Earth. There was too much to tend, and part of my heart had stopped, unsure how to continue. Everyone called it grief, but below the name, I felt that the fire in my center was beginning to smoke. I kept my appointments and did the endless tasks, but some part of me felt hollow. Slowly, over many months, I… Read more

May 30, 2019

Strolling in summer down Bleecker near Broadway, we pass a young Hispanic couple sitting on the curb. They begin to argue. He blurts out, “How can you say that?” She looks hurt. They start squabbling in Spanish. We laugh at them and at ourselves. It’s the same argument since the beginning of time skipping between us. The details change. The language evolves. We long to be close, then bump into each other, and tumble through life the best we can…. Read more

May 20, 2019

There’s this one thing I can’t remember or can’t quite find. On gray days, I worry I’ve misplaced it or my memory is failing. But on days like today when everything is swelling with life, I’m certain it’s always been this way. To sense such a thing without finding it is what keeps us reaching for each other. I’m coming to believe it’s not about finding anything. More about the treasures we discover by opening what seems in the way…. Read more

May 13, 2019

For a fish, the Ocean is God and its need to swim is its want to know God.   For a bird, the Sky is God and its urge to fly is the flutter of its soul.   For a star, the Emptiness that holds it is God and the light it is born with is all it knows.   What Ocean, Sky, or Emptiness holds you?   A Question to Walk With: Describe all that is larger than you… Read more

May 6, 2019

I saw a woman sitting in a café in Barcelona. She had the loneliest stare. She fiddled with her espresso for the longest time. Then I took in everyone and realized we’re all still-lifes waiting to be finished by our next meeting.   It takes a quiet courage to slip from our regrets the way you might step from wet clothes after being caught in the rain.   What is it about these flowers trampled by a horse? Or the… Read more

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