A thousand years ago, a colorful bird flew out of an ancient tree in Persia, just as a thoughtful boy opened his eyes. He never saw it lift, only sweep over him in flight. This is how he came to speak of God: as something lifting out of view, as something sweeping over us once we’re awake. Five hundred years ago, a young woman saw her father beheaded in one stroke by a desperate man leaning off a horse. She… Read more

Sorry. As soon as I talk about it, it moves out of view. Let me try again. There is a teacher, a teaching, a moment that keeps working me. I became aware of it four years ago when I met several burn survivors; heroic individuals whose faces have been removed, whose limbs have been disfigured. They have nowhere to hide. Inside is outside for them. I could see their beauty, each like a lantern broken by the storm; their flicker… Read more

—If we want to be held, we have to behold. I admit that well into my thirties, I felt this natural yearning to be seen and heard which in time became urgent and draining. But over the years, I slowly came to realize that being held is more important than being understood. When held, I don’t care so much about being seen or heard; because being held is being seen and heard in a way that affirms our very existence,… Read more

When asked about the difference between a slow-witted boy and a sage, a rabbi said, “Humility and Praise.” His students were puzzled. He went on, “The unaware one grows like a stone—solid and enduring. The awakened one breaks through the dark like a sapling breaking ground—its reach mirroring its roots. The self-conscious one darts like a rabbit, never in the open for long. It watches for others and watches itself chew. But the embodied one lives like a turtle crossing… Read more