Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Ocean of Gravity
Friday, February 25, 2011
Always Tao
Thursday, February 24, 2011
How Do You Build a Bridge?
How do you build a bridge
across a rushing river?
How do you build a bridge
across a river of years
that separates you from someone
who has hurt you too many times?
How do you build a bridge
across the present moment
into a future of slow healing?
How do you build a bridge
across the moat you dug
to protect yourself from one
who would kill you
if given the chance?
How do you build a bridge
across your own fear
and into the yet-to-be?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Money Is Like Fire
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Risky Existence
Monday, February 21, 2011
Memory Like a River
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Anger Management
Saturday, February 19, 2011
What Is Light
Friday, February 18, 2011
Another Boundary
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Walking to Work
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Intersections
Monday, February 14, 2011
Being a Child
I don't mind being a child --
even when it means I have to play
the naive one in certain circles.
I don't mind being the innocent --
even when it means I must admit
I don't know what everyone else knows.
I don't mind being a virgin --
even when it means I must remain
clueless about certain aspects of life.
To be a child is to be released
from the rigors of serious adultness
and to be sent out to play.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
When Pain Runs Deeper Than Usual
Friday, February 11, 2011
When We Are Grieving
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Strange Lands
A stranger in a strange land.
We come into this life unaware
that we are a point of view,
a knot of perceptions.
It takes years
to realize we're separate
from everything
and everyone around us.
It takes decades more
to realize how connected we are
in spite of what our separate,
conscious mind tells us.
With every new connection,
we land again on foreign soil.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
No Center Point
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Breath and Light
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Rocks in a Tide Pool
Starfish constantly move about a tide pool, but we do not see their progress because it is so slow. They are like five-pointed rocks to us. And yet, they have a life, and that life comes to an end.
Trees never move from the place they were planted, and yet they can reforest a mountainside if left unmolested for a few generations. To us, they are like giants sleeping on their feet. And yet, they have a life, and that life comes to an end.
Mountains are heavy, solid, mute, and immovable, but every storm carries away another layer of skin. To us, they are eternal. We cannot imagine them melting away over time. And yet, they have a life, and that life comes to an end.
Every impermanent thing is aware of its impending demise, whether we realize it or not.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Light and Dark
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Two Quiets
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
When I Wear a Mask
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
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