May 28, 2020
And the wildflowers. The wildflowers pushing against all odds, against this endlessly small room, this seed encasing the pivotal word: might. They come. They are mighty.
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March 03, 2020
Krishna is a thief. A good thief. He steals wonderful things—milk and kisses, butter too. Love, actually. That’s why he’s dark—and radiant; he tries to hide his goodness in the night.
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December 31, 2019
I’ve been thinking a lot about beginnings, and anyone who thinks a lot about beginnings begins to understand there’s no end to thinking about beginnings. New Year’s is a beginning, and time. So is creation: the first brick of a house, the first step across the threshold of a door.
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May 28, 2019
He pointed to the facts: I lived in a nice condominium on a nice island a ferry ride away from a nice city where my nice partner worked at a nice job. I pointed to my feelings: My nice life was killing me.
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January 31, 2019
Daily we pilgrimage to the saints' seemingly split facades: we interact—in families and communities, in cyberspace and private thoughts—and if we realize where we’re standing when approach their unhinged thresholds, we take off our shoes, bow, and offer puja.
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December 13, 2018
When I watched my ponytail fall to the floor, I was surprised by the lurch in my stomach. The definite markings of my femininity would soon be swept into the forest, leaving uncertainty: How would I embody femininity now that I had chosen to withdraw from traditional feminine expectations?
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September 13, 2018
When I talk with my friends..they often ask with trepidation, “But, are you still writing?” I think they’re really asking, “Are you still you?" Usually, I explain that I don’t have much time for writing now. The monastery is a busy place.
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