The past, now.
- Pitfalls of happiness
I am on a week-long meditation retreat with Jaimal, and Mitsu, several more lovely people, and teacher Steven Tainer (of Berkeley Buddhist Monastery and other places) in Morro Bay, California.
One of the issues I’ve been looking into is related to my moods, or modes of being.
I am strongly affected by light levels and [...]
- E. E. Cummings
(A favorite from about age 15, this poem was one with which I particularly identified. I registered intensefragility.com ages ago, and still own it, though I’ve never really done anything with it. When I was around 18, I paid a calligrapher to draw the Chinese characters for “intense fragility” for me, with an eye toward [...]
- Bodies and spaces
I feel like reading love poems. I don’t know what happened to my E. E. Cummings or my Pablo Neruda. They might have been in the box of my books that self-destructed on the way from New York to Portland, or they might have vanished long ago. I read a lot more love poetry when [...]
- The last breath
This morning, I was thinking about death. Death in every second, it kept repeating in my mind. I’m sure I heard that somewhere at some point, or read it. But there’s something that happens sometimes, with things I’ve heard or read or thought a million times. The million and first time, something clicks, something I [...]
