I take issue with hero worship and kneejerk adulation of skills that just don’t apply. The world is a mess, but no one person can “fix” it or even know what the right thing to do is.

There is a balance. We are of the world and in the world. This means being both in the snow and in the knowledge of wars.

“When I stand next to you, I feel the warmth of your presence and support.”

What does it take to see this kind of magic every day? Honestly? Presence. That’s all.

Humans are hardwired both for self-preservation and for growth. That makes us different from larvae: we are capable of staying in an inchoate state forever, never learning to fly.

It turns out intercontinental relocation, even temporary, is like riding a bicycle: once you start the first movement, the next one is automatic, inexorable.

What will I find when my mind returns to my body? What arises when all else is still? At the most basic level: am I still here?

There is something about the low shy gently warming hazy winter sun that feels miraculous and intimate, in a way the full blast of the summer sun never does.

I am over half a century old. I haven’t always followed a straight path. There is a lot to process. But this processing feels like the rest I need: I am at peace.

No gender equality without a breakdown of the patriarchy. No racial justice without a dismantling of white supremacy. No environmental balance without learning how to live without cars and Amazon Prime.

The opposite of anxiety isn’t calm, it is trust.

We spend the majority of our time fighting our bodies: getting up before we are ready, rushing through work before we fully understand its consequences, paying only perfunctory attention to each other.

“Throughout your life, people will recognize that you are a capable person and ask you to do things with them and for them. You need to find a way to distinguish between your path and that of others.”

Why is this so hard, I wonder? I know this less frantic pace is the actual speed of my presence. Any faster, and what gets done is not connected, not deliberate, not real.

It is an act of love to put our bodies between more guns and more temples, to say, stop, enough is enough.

“Maybe human beings are not supposed to contain this level of cognitive dissonance.” I believe that’s true. We can’t.

Structural racism is everywhere, there is no escape.

Your feelings matter. Holding our feelings as feelings is the only way we can hold onto our humanity in this time of great pain.

Yogic philosophy sets Ahimsa, non-violence or non-injury, as one of the five self-restraints, things we don’t do so that we can be in right relationship with each other.

The work is not to lose ourselves.