“Aren’t you that guy who goes to that Buddhist place?” I said I was and she looked at me, paused, and then said “I always found it funny that people would worship a guy who isn’t a God.” I smiled because it probably is funny from the outside, what we Buddhists are doing.
Archives for November 2013
THE OWL and the PUSSYCAT
SOME THINGS you can’t make happen, no matter how hard you try. For years I struggled to get a pop-up version of THE OWL and the PUSSYCAT published, but I could never overcome the fixed belief that the poem wasn’t well enough known in North America. I still find it strange, this idea that people […]
Well, Well, Well
Who would have guessed that muffle-ty years later a concept know as “peak water” would be spilling from my fingertips onto a web totally unrelated to spiders and tuffets as a splash of what life as a human is about today. Yet here it is…
The Gift That Kept on Giving
A binder of 130+ letters solicited over 20 years ago to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of the author’s parents is a source of family stories and information for future generations. A cookie recipe mentioned in one of the letters is the key to reconnecting with a childhood acquaintance.
Freeze-Frames From Hell
Nearly three million Vietnamese were killed and another four million injured in the Vietnam War, which destroyed or heavily damaged 2,923 school buildings, 1850 hospitals and clinics, 484 churches and 465 temples and pagodas.
Roadside Chapel
Leaving a restaurant in the Italian alpine foothills we came across a chapel during a storm in a corn field.
Snowbirds Canadian Acrobatic Team
That I had the privilege to go up with the “Snowbirds” is nothing short of a miracle.
Tarmac Meditations #136: Last Call in the Dance-hall at the End of Love
In the hard hours under tonight’s uncertain skies, I go to my zoo, I ask the elephants what to do and the answer I find is; tell yourself no more lies.
Body & Soul
Between pages 104 and 105 he found a photograph. At first he couldn’t make the black and white image out and then it became clear that he was looking at a close-up of the smooth skin of a woman’s shoulder. For a short while he stared. How had it got there?
Breathing Football in Africa
I just followed my gut and felt my way through villages in search of all those little details that speak of Africa’s great football passion. For me all the big stories are in the small details.
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