The Honorable Unworkable
Part of the spiritual life we’re all familiar with: Honorable aspiration, unworkable execution.
The Honorable Unworkable Read More »
Part of the spiritual life we’re all familiar with: Honorable aspiration, unworkable execution.
The Honorable Unworkable Read More »
Werner Herzog is 82 today, born the year before I. I’m not familiar with the vast scope of his worldly expression, but what I am familiar with leads me to bow at his commitment to self-discovery, the bringing forth of stories in service of humankind’s awakening, and the willingness to meet life with a passion
The One Idea I Can’t Live Without Read More »
Halloween, 30 years ago today, having been in love for just shy of two decades, Dear and I moved from Bloomfield, New York to Moscow, Vermont. It was, you might say, a reaffirmation of our commitment we labeled “Go Big Or Stay Home.” Ever since, some powerful forms of surrender to the vastness of our
Halloween Surrender Read More »
The immaturity of the human family, to which I am a contributor in good standing, is profound, a fact so easily observed in virtually every form of how we treat ourselves and one another. Recent massive bloodshed in Israel and Palestine being an emphatic example of the belief that it is honorable to operate
You Can Do Anything Read More »
An email from a friend of our daughter Kathryn is among the most treasured I will ever receive. Her friend spoke of text messages he and Kath exchanged a week or so before her recent death. Specifically, from her, this: Just loving moment to moment. I’m fully in my Zen evolution, letting go of
Leaving the World Singing Read More »
I don’t schedule much in the morning because it takes me a while to get up to speed. Meditation, journaling, stretching and strengthening, wandering with the dogs, time with whatever two cents I’m writing. And while I try not to get sidetracked, I also want to stay open to whatever surprises the universe is itching
Blueberries Help Me Die Read More »
Erupting from new depth, the volcanic sound of my heart’s desolation. Seismic enough to raise eyebrows on other planets I shouldn’t be surprised. My dogs sure looked at me funny. Ten months since Dear’s suicide, I got why some people are pulled to follow their beloved in death.