2012-08-13T13:25:44-05:00

Read Mark’s weekly reflections on The Huffington Post.   Like everything living, we open and close, as we lean into life and resist it. For human beings, though, each movement—opening and closing, leaning into and resisting—has an emotional mood that colors our days. And so, our feelings are at once a great challenge and our greatest source of information about the life we are living. This recent reflection explores the swirl of choices that are always near as we make... Read more

2012-08-06T00:16:09-05:00

Like it or not, we are all asked to be in relationship with loss and grief. Over the years, I have discovered that grief doesn’t go away but teaches us how to discover our strength and resilience by staying with deep and inexplicable feelings over long periods of time. In truth, grief, once we move through its painful opening, reveals our more lasting connections to the Universe. This is a recent poem that tries to speak about what grief and... Read more

2012-07-31T00:41:46-05:00

In a world where things are constantly falling apart or breaking apart, health often resides in the art of putting things together. Both are happening at the same time constantly, though we understandably focus on what falls apart first, as it makes more noise and is often accompanied by pain. This video clip from an interview with Sounds True took place in Colorado during a week of recording my box set of teaching conversations, Staying Awake: The Ordinary Art. Mark... Read more

2012-07-23T08:06:28-05:00

Read Mark’s weekly reflections on The Huffington Post. Everyone in life must face and move through time. Feeling how precious life is, we tend to squeeze as much as we can out of the moment. Often, this only makes us more anxious and moves us further from life. This poem came from my own efforts to slow down and relate to time differently. You can’t hoard moments like coins. You can only bathe in them. You can’t trim hours like... Read more

2012-07-16T10:54:26-05:00

Find these entries weekly on Huffington Post’s GPS for the Soul. I travel fairly often and find myself reflecting on different aspects of life against the backdrop of airports, taxis, and baggage carousels. This poem came while traveling to Chicago. I wrote it for a friend who was in the middle of a life crisis. It speaks to the paradox of our travel over a lifetime: working to establish ourselves and our identity when, over time, life wears us down... Read more

2012-07-07T14:40:31-05:00

Mark’s weekly reflections are now also running on The Huffington Post. We all struggle with making lists and being plagued by them, with getting somewhere and being here, with doing and being. It’s like rowing in a lake, all that effort to simply glide in the quiet. And after a while, we need to row some more. I arrived in this moment in the middle of a busy day. Today I am sad or so I thought. But more I... Read more

2012-07-02T14:56:26-05:00

I think we loved so blindly, every one of us meaning to explore the other’s face but knocking over everything in the way. Now each of us, building dark images of what we think happened. I heard a song today that played when we were young. It made me ache to have you all near just for a long minute in which none of us could speak. Read more

2012-06-26T07:40:02-05:00

The base of all Hebrew prayer is to listen for the Oneness. As Rabbi Alan Lew says, “There’s a deeper speech that doesn’t come from where normal speech comes from.” So how do we hear this deeper speech of Oneness? Well, we can gather many views of something true, not relying on any one; and, if stilled enough, we can join our small breath with the one breath of the Universe; and, if patient enough, we can track what lives... Read more

2012-06-18T13:16:44-05:00

Entering a field, our dog lowers her head and sniffs around for the longest time. Suddenly, she looks up and starts running wildly in all directions, just for the joy of running, not after anything, just stretch, leap, turn, and pant. I think she’s trying to tell me something. For days I feel I’ve done nothing but sniff around. Except I feel guilty doing all this sniffing. I used to wonder why someone would hold a bird rather than try... Read more

2012-06-11T16:44:10-05:00

Two weeks before his daughter died they went to the movies. She wanted to see a love story; he, a thriller. They slouched in different theaters alone. It’s been the one regret holding all his grief. And just when he couldn’t imagine crying anymore, when the night was feeling like a clear wall he couldn’t move through, she held his face in a dream and there they were: sitting in the dark watching the same movie, only this time it... Read more


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