The Things That Used to Matter

When I was eight years old, I wanted a Cabbage Patch Kid. Remember those dolls from the 1980s? They had soft squishy bodies with protruding belly buttons, hard plastic heads sprouting hair, and if you turned an unclothed one over, a name scrawled on the little butt cheek. The Cabbage Patch Kid community represented a... Continue Reading →

There Are Good Monks And There Are Bad Monks

A long time ago, in what seems like another life, I sat at a temple in Chiang Mai, Thailand chatting with a young monk. The experience was part of an initiative called “Monk Chat”, offered at several Buddhist temples around Thailand’s northern urban darling. The city’s novice monks––the young, and effectively in-training monks––sit with interested... Continue Reading →

The Lonely Tree

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why "What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my... Continue Reading →

The Underside

I used to think life was a chaotic and complicated mess of events and emotions that both fascinated and bewildered me. It’s kind of like being on a roller coaster ride and having no idea when that next loop or fall is coming and feeling somewhat out of control. Or like a beautiful piece of... Continue Reading →

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