My desk upstairs is where stuff accumulates, stuff that was once important to me that I'm not quite ready to cast away. Piled on top and underneath are boxes, binders, bags, frames, and old laptops. Next to the desk is a Nintendo Wii in its box. Next to it is a Sega Genesis. Some of … Continue reading Messages from People I Used to Know
Note: This article appeared in the Summer 2017 Issue of Indiana and Yoga Magazine. Thank you to to Ryan and Candice Baggett for publishing my writing. The version here differs slightly from the published version. Being present and engaged in the world doesn’t just happen. Our minds are complicated. Our lives are messy. Our attention can … Continue reading Practical Tips for Meditating
I had been procrastinating about setting up my container garden this year. The ideal spot is near the front of my house. It is sort of triangular in shape with "a" being the shrubs against the garage, "b" being the driveway, and sort-of hypotenuse "c" being the curve of the sidewalk leading to the … Continue reading Ant Farm
The hollow sound of solid falling on a wood deck rippled through the air, into my open bedroom window, into my ear, and ripped me from my dream state. I don't know if the dream was the one where I was an imposter in a foreign land, running from house to house dissolving spiderwebs with … Continue reading Intrusion
While in walking meditation this morning at An Lac temple in Indianapolis, this poem revealed itself to me. Trời nóng / Hot sun Gió mát / Cool breeze Đấc cứng / Hard ground Chân mềm / Soft foot Cứng đầu / Hard head Lỗ tai mở / Open ear Trời tối / Darkness Mặt trời tới / The sun arrives.
Hurt people want to hurt people. Nothing hurts quite as deeply as social isolation. It is a pain of unworth, the notion that one is deserving isolation, that is taught and learned in many lessons. Those thirsty for worthiness will drink from any spigot offering it, even those that cause great suffering. The tools to … Continue reading Mending the Tattered Sail
The little black ant was investigating the rim of my bronze, bowl-shaped gong, as a beagle might investigate a strip of grass along a sidewalk. The sudden appearance of such an alien object and its alien smells (not to mention me and my alien smells) must have been quite a mystery to her. Every couple … Continue reading The Little Black Ant and the Bell