In the earliest hours of morning, before the bustling if day settles in – there is a space that begs our invitation; one that encourages our heart’s rest. In these first fleeting moments, stillness stretches her arms into thoughtful arabesque. It is here in this space where our awareness begins to form. Within every spiritual…
I stood at the intersection of one of Washington’s busiest intersections, waiting for the Lyft now twenty minutes delayed. The rain was cruel and unforgiving, with pea-sized frozen pellets lashing through the once tranquil sky. Strangers shuffled past in long queues, like ants blindly following this forward motion. Had a bomb exploded they wouldn’t have…
The traffic yesterday was nearly impossible – the distraction of rain causing numerous delays as rising floodwaters threatened the ‘only path home.’ As the traffic lurched forward, a young woman in the car next to me began screaming and yelling – in a final fit of rage, she slammed her fists into the dashboard. I…
In his book, The Sun My Heart , Thich Nhat Hanh speaks to the duality presented in our meditative practice. “Meditation lets the sun of awareness rise easily, so we can see more clearly,” he writes. “When we meditate, we seem to have two selves. One is the flowing river of thoughts and feelings, and…
I watched an old man walking along the side of a well-travelled road. ‘Homeless Vet’ his sign read, ‘Please Help.’ A cold rain had been falling for hours, causing his wet clothes to sharpen the outline of his brutally emaciated frame. He paused for a moment, wiping the rain from his brow – it was…
There’s an old saying I’m quite fond of: ‘Water that is too pure contains no fish.’ It is derived from the text if Ts’ai Ken Tan, compiled by Hong Zicheng during the time of the Ming dynasty. “Still that is dirt grows countless things,” he writes. It is intended to demonstrate the truth of our…
My father was a veteran of World War II; an anti-tank weaponeer responsible for dismantling the tread of the Panzer fleet. under direct fire, he’d dash through the brambles placing by hand the first of many detonations. from Normandy to the Battle of the Bulge, he fought valiantly alongside many of his childhood friends –…
In his article, “Just Sitting, Going Nowhere” Lewis Richmond reminds that whereas the practice may not help us reach our destination, it does help to define one. Just sitting, going nowhere is the essence of our meditative practice, connecting our understanding of the physical world to our experience within it. Beyond which, there is a…
There are many ways to engage our spiritual path. The first is with a softened acceptance, and a sense that all is right and just. The second engages our fear and intolerance; like a hot glowing coal, it is immediately cast aside. And, with that, our understanding of that which has likely occurred. We lose…
Many years ago, before I became sick… I used to run. I like running in the fall weather for many miles on end. And on into the spring…when the Tulips would begin to hang over the fence. To me, the road was endless – every foot drop accented by the boundlessness of breath. But when I…