Any long-term readers of my blog, and anyone who knows me personally, know that R. Buckminster Fuller has had a major influence on the way that I see, experience and think about the world and the human’s place and responsibility in the world. Bucky has been enormously formative in who
One of the most memorable of my dreams occurred years ago, nearly a couple of decades. In it I heard the words, “You have to listen to the space between heartbeats.” In the dream I would drift into a vast, fathomless, spaceless, timeless void – pure peace there – and
Coming back to the mountain from town for the first time to stay more than a short overnight, I arrived on Friday with two days ahead, planning to jump into figuring out how to further the project of getting ready to move. Am hoping the right buyer for this mountain
If you “have faith and doubt not”, says Jesus, you can tell this mountain to move and it will move. Have faith and doubt not. Damn, that one is tricky. Faith I have, I actually have loads of it. Doubting not, there’s the rub. What does it look like, really,
I want to express my respect and fascination for the mythic imagination of a child, specifically my 5-year-old neighbor Hannah. She and her mother were over for a visit last night. Sitting on my porch watching the sunset over the mountains gorgeous, fluffy white clouds were in front of massive
Listening to the news stories and learning about the very scary and sad situation so many Americans find themselves in, without work or ways to support the lives they have always known; and considering the solutions that are being sought, such as encouraging 6th graders to decide what they want
My life is a love letter to You.
What would Buddha’s desk look like? Would it look like mine? Oh my god, would Buddha know how to think about all of these things at once? This scattered, fractured, cacophony of tasks is all one thing. Illusion suggests that it is just too many and too much. Breathe, Buddha, breathe.
“Over Nothingness
The last official Bridging Worlds Mountain Retreat Center event is about to begin. This is the quiet before the arrival, the spirits of the land and the ancestors are gathering now to welcome the guests, I feel it viscerally.
This event has been on the calendar for a year. A young
I named my place on the mountain “Here” after the poem by David Wagoner called Lost.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes.