June 1, 2020

It is impossible to know why some of us are broken open while some of us are just broken. If we knew how to invoke the difference, we could change the course of history. Even within one life, we can experience transformative moments of being broken open and, at other times, we just suffer being broken. More than staying in the unanswerable tangle of why some of us grow while some of us stay stuck, it is more important to… Read more

May 25, 2020

Beneath the cloud, everything is grey. Above the cloud, everything is light. Calling the cloud unfair is being a victim. Trying to conquer the cloud is being a hero. Calling the cloud a cloud is the beginning of peace.    A Question to Walk With: In conversation with a friend or loved one, discuss a time when seeing things other than how they are led to your feeling like a victim or wanting to be a hero. This excerpt is… Read more

May 18, 2020

The garden grew this way and that as a circle of flowers gathered to discuss the meaning of life. The tulip leaned toward the peony and asked, “Is there a purpose to any of this?” The peony, drooping toward the ground, replied, “Oh, can’t you see? Our purpose is to open when filled with light.” The rose shook its pistil, pondering, “If this is a gift, then who is the giver?” The shrubs and trees fell silent till the iris… Read more

May 11, 2020

We each discover the Timeless Center through love and suffering. And just seeing the Center burn under everything changes the way we look at the stars, the way we hold the wood we gather. It changes what we see while making love. Once entering this moment, waves of feeling ache close to the bone. I used to think that ache was sadness, and spent many years trying to get rid of it. But now, it is deeper than not getting… Read more

May 5, 2020

With each passing year, the climb turns into a drift: turn of phrase, turn of pot, spot of sun, touch of dog.   After all this way, we wake in what we wanted, like a painting we used to drive to see in which we now live.   Like swimmers who tire into  ease, we are, on good days,  cradled by the deep.   Thankfully, we have crawled into the O of ordinary and found beauty.   We walk our… Read more

April 27, 2020

After being born physically, we unfold within a second womb, meant to incubate our better angel. The second womb is an experiential one that, through the labor of a lifetime, births the soul on Earth. This journey opens us to a process of transformation that is mysterious, difficult, and inevitable. This dynamic transformation is how we are revealed and shaped by experience. By living the one life we are given, we release the wisdom that waits in our heart, and… Read more

April 20, 2020

Language is no more than the impressions left by birds nesting in snow.    Prayer is the path opened by a leopard leaping through the brush.   And grace is how the water parts for a fish letting it break surface.   A Question to Walk With: Describe a recent experience you’ve had with grace and try to convey its appearance and feeling in words without using the word grace. This excerpt is from my new book of poems in… Read more

April 13, 2020

The thread on the border of the fabric painting of Mount Fuji—stitched so many years ago, so many oceans away—has held the scene together longer than I’ve been alive. And on this uneventful morning, the soft rain makes the oak outside my window dip enough for the early light to stream across the braided mountain hanging on my wall. Now the thread on the border swells with the sun and seems for the moment the source of all strength. Then… Read more

April 6, 2020

We spend so much time anticipating what will happen next that we miss the whisper of Heaven that unfolds wherever we are. Though I have known and survived many forms of pain, fear is the troll in my mind that anticipates more. And just as a loud noise prevents us from finding the peace in the center of silence, fear prevents us from finding the inch of Heaven in the center of whatever moment we are in. Yet, no matter… Read more

March 30, 2020

Later, we’ll see Kenzie dance at NYU. She is sixteen and close to her source. She ran through my legs when she was little. I’m fifty years older than her. How did this happen? This morning, in a favorite café, a couple close to thirty. They’re signing some papers, so blinded by their love and dream of the future that they can’t see that the man waiting on their signature is not trustworthy. I want to warn them. Of course,… Read more




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