Some 50 years ago, Jane Yolen, one of the world’s great illuminators through the medium of what might be called children’s literature, said to me, “You write like a dream.” It was a kiss from the universe, encouragement to pursue not just writing but my imagination—a pursuit which has come to manifest itself as an
In the same way that Trump didn’t cause 8 million people to gather throughout the nation in opposition to the disharmony he champions, but he certainly did trigger their gathering, Trump’s presence in the world overall is a trigger for the human family to be reminded of one of life’s most valuable principles: that how
Eleven years ago when I mentioned to Dear, my beloved, that I was approaching 9500 days of sobriety, some 26 years, she said, without missing a beat, “It’s beginning to show.” Today, the most tangible expression I keep of her dynamic presence is this photo of the quilt I had made of her clothes.
Dear’s death, 76 months ago today, has transformed my life, which I’m sure was her intent, in part, compassionate lover of God that she is. Our world together as we conceived it wasn’t deep enough. We talked a good God is Everything, but she experienced for herself the considerable enough unfulfillment of it. And she
There is a quality of humor that comes with seeing everything as God, and therefore is a part of our conscious awakening to that reality. Going by my experience, underlying even our outrage is the tickling reminder that it’s no more or less than a sacred part of our soul’s path of realization. On my
So what did this assassinated public figure named Charlie Kirk learn upon his physical demise? What will we learn upon ours? What would the Dalai Lama say? Or the Pope? Or Jesus? Or other avatars such as the Buddha, Paramahansa Yogananda, and any saint or sage of our choosing? What do we feel are the
My pal Tim Hayes died Sunday, although the next day he visited me and guided my pen as I attempted to celebrate his delightful spirit. He knows about such inspiration, having authored a couple of enjoyable books related to the sign on his truck that reads: “Hayes is for Horses.”
Dear and I were married 48 years ago today. Yesterday, a most significant drawing appeared, titled: “Me Bidding Farewell to This Incarnation (with a mouthful of polkadots, of course).” Last Thursday marked the 6th anniversary of Dear’s physical departure. There’s some funny coalition of forces at play, including my physical fragility, punctuated yesterday by my