Charades for One
On the bus ride home from his weekly supper at the Rising Sun Café, he was only half listening to the sound of passing...
Stations along the Way
This morning I read a few sentences about the body’s “energy centers” (also called the “cakras”), which line up along the front of the...
A Survivor at Large
Spring can be a time of passing on, a time when the recently living pack up and move into the memories of those left...
Standard Bearer of Kindness
Kip Allen died last week. I think of him as the piper in a story he shared about a man who walked across a...
Life, Death, Life?
Today is Easter, one of two pivotal holidays in the Christian calendar, as all my weekly planners are telling me. Yesterday, at an SOS...
A Time Beyond my own Calendar
I don’t get out much, except for short excursions with a few friends, a few commitments (such as volunteering at the Road Runner Food...
Monday is Market Day
Barry thought he may still have vestiges of visual memory, although ‘memory’ didn’t seem the right word for what had survived from his first...
Before He Knows it
Words can evoke comforting feelings even if we don’t have a clear sense of what they mean. They can evoke the possibility of a...
A Pure World
“In this pure world, there is no sense of loss and of complicity in loss.” Dynamics of Time and Space, by Tarthang Tulku. This...
A Missing Piece Shows up
Jonathan now remembered his given name, Ahat-Ohal-Kum; as gradually the dormant fields of his ancient lineage—his eons of engagement on uncounted worlds—began to ebb...