Manny and I received a kind note from Sonum, our hostess and guide during our stay at the Tibetan Settlements in Bylakuppe. At the time of our departure, we had spent much of several days in her company, given a walking tour of the monasteries and the farmlands in the area. We left a little …
The memories rise unbidden — they are always rising, bubbles of air surging from the depths to the surface of the sea; or stones borne skyward in similar offering, caught in the slow and seasonal currents of frost in farmer's fields — as if by some anti-gravitational magic, the memories rise out of some ancient …
The boys are taking numbers to stand in line again born with an open hand which of them will be men today and draw a card that wins? They're looking for a future looking for their rising star to shine above the fields a voice shouts from the doorway "C'mon in, boy, you're hired." They …
Silence is usually understood to be something negative, something empty, an absence of sound, of noises. This misunderstanding is prevalent because very few people have ever experienced silence. All that they have experienced in the name of silence is noiselessness. But silence is a totally different phenomenon. It is utterly positive. It is existential, it …
The Indian master Osho spent most of his life seeking an unshakeable truth, in every conceivable branch and nationality of psychology or science of philosophy, following the traces of a Path walked and illuminated by spiritual teachers throughout history, following their practices with his own practice, taking their experiences and making his own experience. His methods …
Every day should surrender a small jewel, something new and intriguing for the body or the mind. Every day does, unless you have been sleeping. I woke today to page 122 of the hardcover edition of Silk Road Cooking, by Najmieh Batmanglij: Saffron Long treasured as a medicine, perfume, dye, and seasoning,saffron consists of the golden stigmas of the …
The beauty of the subtropics — as I experienced them for years in Brazil, and on other journeys far and away… … and now I understand that I was making a home of the Earth, not a home of – Spencer, New York, where I was born at the foot of a minor tree-crowned mountain; …
There's a song for the water of sorrow and a song for the fire of pain a song for the love that you'll meet tomorrow and one for the touch of skin ah, life gives us songs to sing Can you count how many times you've held pleasure in your hands? Open your fingers …
At the risk of becoming a Byfield Weatherbug, I'd like to report that the day has begun with mountains again. To the East, a layer of clouds — which is so similar to yesterday's formation that now I am thinking it must be ocean-bound fog — rests upon the Earth's horizon like a ridge of …
You walk through your day dissatisfied; there is something missing, or something amiss. In the evening you are tired, but it is weariness of spirit, not a physical depletion. Your body has not been a channel for a day well lived, life flowing into and through you, now ready to be replenished; instead, your energy …
You must acknowledge the beauty of loss: it makes your smile more natural, your glance deeper, your touch more compassionate. How many adults have been toughened to rigidity by the demands of a life, only to be snapped — like that — by an event that should have been expected? It’s too bad if you try, …
There are so many useful goals for a life. There seems to be one for every occasion, all so very useful. To be a success, to raise fine children, to travel the world, to follow pleasure where it leads, to save souls… My goals have been high, now they are not so lofty: to write …