Things you never imagine come to pass and your life becomes a crucible in which the lessons are ground into a fine powder you can taste in back of your throat. In time, the crucible cracks, then crumbles, and rain soaks the powder into your heart and the taste goes away. By the time you soften, no one can tell there ever was a crucible. And on a quiet day when the sun pours through the clouds and the birds... Read more

You would have been 102 today and I wonder what you would say now that all that was hiding us has fallen away. I imagine you now as bare as the trees outside my window. Despite our tumble through the years, I miss you. For some reason, I keep returning to the moment you dropped your cane in the driveway and kissed my neck. It’s all I ever wanted. Yet, it took fifty years to unfold, the slowest flower I... Read more

You can lose yourself in love or find yourself. What we love can become everything in which case we spin endlessly, thirsting for someone else’s light to soften our darkness. Or what we love can become the veil we part to see and know what holds the world together. I know this because I have done both. And while making what I love everything has kept me from my soul, loving everything open, the way the constancy of the sun... Read more

Both my grandfathers had a hard life. Yet both loved life. Both loved people. Each had a quick smile and a deep laugh. Each gave before being asked. Each listened to whatever was difficult without looking away. They both died before I could ask. So where did I learn this? You can’t teach someone to lean in, to get up, to help out. We just offer comfort and care, the way a fire warms with its flame. Yet their presence... Read more

After walking days to meet Basho, a young man bowed and asked respectfully, “Why poetry?” The aging master, having lived through so much beauty and loss, smiled and said, “Come with me.” They hiked to a cliff overlooking the sea and Basho said, “Seeing life from near and far at once helps us live.” They watched the surf crash and roll. Then Basho added, “To listen for poetry is to stand before life on the cliff of your heart.” He... Read more

Some days, the simplest tasks seem weighty and endless: make the bed, tuck in the sheet, make the coffee, stir, and drink, find the bills, pay the bills. Some weeks, the days blur: get on the plane, get off the plane, get in the car, get out of the car, sign in here, sign out there. Then, I got your email saying: Isn’t this all a blessing? We get to make the bed and tuck in the sheet. We get... Read more

On March 11, 2011, a mammoth earthquake triggered a devastating tsunami that wreaked havoc in more than fifteen cities in northeastern Japan. Waves reached as high as 120 feet. More than 19,000 people were killed, and 2500 more have never been found. In thirty minutes, the town of Otsuchi was destroyed. In trying to make sense of his grief, a gardener from Otsuchi, Itaru Sasaki, said that he needed a place to air his grief. So he moved an empty... Read more

Despite the things that crack and break, there are these unexpected moments of calm, like the swing of a hammock in the one patch of light that warms our legs. These moments keep everything from falling apart, like the bluebird atop its small house, its blueness so pure it makes me drop all worry. The miracle isn’t always parting some vast sea. More often, it arrives like the strum of a guitar or a piece of silk slipping on the... Read more

At the party, I overheard you say: “I want to help but don’t know how.” I didn’t know you yet, so I said nothing. But I woke in the night wanting to find you and say: Just pick up the nearest blanket and look for someone who is cold. Or repair the thing next to you that is broken. If you’re too tired or weak, just close your eyes and simply hold the unknown fate of others in the palm... Read more

There is always a practice before the practice; a sitting before the incomprehensible long enough to feel and sometimes understand the Mystery each instrument and craft is designed to invoke. In Japan, before an apprentice can clay up his hands and work the wheel, he must watch the master potter for years. In Hawaii, before a young man can ever touch a boat, he must sit on the cliff of his ancestors and simply watch the sea. In Africa, before... Read more