The art of living isn’t that simple. But honesty makes it bearable and everything stripped of its film is bare and sincere. The tree limb cracking in the storm is as honest as the drop of rain coating a sad girl’s lip. We have been misled to think that meaning can be debated. We build meaning by being sincere, by listening to what every simple thing has to offer—letting all the meanings merge. Each sincerity is a language. When what... Read more
The Journey of Awakening: Conversation with Mark Nepo Read the full transcript here. A poem from the interview: Winter Confession I’ve tried to follow every wind and listen for its source. I’ve tried to follow every light, and with my face in the sun, all the things we carry that are afraid of the light scurry to the back of my mind. I’ve tried to find the truth and when I have, I’ve found it’s everywhere, and that I step... Read more
I wonder, will anyone recognize us without our anger or our fear? And if we stand here, softly in the open, will we be watered or just mowed down? Wait. Now that you’re here, tell me about the moon and how deer dream of running water and how dogs are simply dogs. Teach me—before we’re tossed back in—the Sanskrit of your eyes. Read more
Regardless of what is fair or just in a situation, if we cannot face our pain, we will nurture offenses and cultivate love through being a victim. No matter how skillfully we might do this, relationships will fall away till we are sadly left alone with the pain we won’t face. Sometimes we seek refuge from our pain in the habits of life, as if sheer routine can put our wounds to sleep. But the habits of life can make... Read more
It’s been cloudy for days. We feel so gray. The snow keeps falling. But for an hour on Thursday night the clouds part and the moon, almost full, makes everything bright—the ice like diamonds stuck in the gutters, the garbage can wheels unable to move, happy to be at rest, the nose of the deer as it nibbles the apple you tossed for it to find. Our dog’s eyes, suddenly full with her ancient bottom of wolf and her irrepressible... Read more
The King asked the Master Potter to shape a pot with a strong foundation and a thin lip from which to drink. Wu Wei had made many in his time. This was a simple request. He asked to watch the King and his chancellors to see how they used such pots. So Wu Wei attended a banquet where he saw the hard use and breakage of rough living. Then he went to work. He spun the clay on his ancient... Read more
In the interviews I’ve been blessed to have with Oprah, we seem to enter what I would call the “One Conversation,” the one ongoing story of how we spend our time on earth. All our lives contribute to this conversation. All our stories contribute to the one ongoing story. Let me share some reflections on where that conversation has been taking me. I keep returning to the ever-present riddle, that being who we are is the necessary adventure. It unlocks... Read more
When starting out, I was so excited that anything showed up, I thought I was done. But somewhere along the way, I realized they are alive and I wasn’t wrestling them into view. They, respecting my effort, agreed to be seen. Not to be re- vealed, but to be loved. Now I circle back in the morning to see what they need from me. Just more of my attention which starts with me undressing what I know. For the longest... Read more
When circling what is sacred without touching what is sacred, it’s all we can do to find the thread of what matters. Mostly the thread finds us when we least expect: when things are going well and a sadness comes to dinner; when finding a picture of someone you buried long ago and in their eyes is a softness you never knew. Holding what matters at arm’s length in order to dissect it seems like a personal problem, and it... Read more
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