for rbr

Many years ago I had a spiritual teacher who was brilliant, tall and charismatic. What he lacked was wise judgment, self-honesty and compassion for others – in other words, the teachings themselves. Carried by his charisma, he played the guru role to the hilt, allowing his female students to adore him, and his male students to copy him. The teachings themselves mostly rang true, however – perhaps despite himself – although I sensed him prowling behind his title like a trapped wolf wanting out.

for Noe and Bob and Christina and Massey and the whole crew on Hilltop

I go numb worrying over who to vote for – or even if I should vote at all, Lord help me!

For me, the real problem in the first place is the two-party system itself, as if we were playing some kind of Olympic Game – one winner takes the Gold Medal and everyone else goes home crying. What about the person coming in sixteenth place? I want to shout. Wasn’t she also fabulous in her own way – even if she slipped on the final slalom?

I have a wonderful photograph on my altar of several of us at Red Clover a few summers ago, standing in front of a lilac bush in full bloom and laughing our heads off. My brother had just made some wry joke, no doubt spoken out of the side of his mouth, and the...

For Leon, in memoriam, for Deb and for James

Before midnight on New Years Eve, my younger brother left this life. A farmer in Vermont, he had been out clearing brush in the fields two days before and now was taking his regular afternoon nap before friends arrived for the evening. In the waning hours of both the day and the year he took his leave of us quietly without any fuss, as was his way.

I had a nightmare this week of being forced into an underground tunnel where girls and young women were lined up, and my job was to count them. I could hardly breathe and began to panic, knowing that if I didn’t get out into real air I would die! Scrabbling my way...

The fires are coming in closer, surrounding us on three sides, not quite here yet, but close enough. As I watch the winds pick up, die down and then pick up again, I feel my stress level rise, relax and then rise again. “Is this the end?” I wonder, straining to...

For Saroj Sachdev

When I was 19 and a student in France, I lived with a wonderful family as part-time nanny for their 5 children. One time, when the parents went off to Paris for a few days and left me in charge of their brood, Patrick, the 3 year-old, came down with a fever and I had to call in the doctor who lived near the old church.

for Bayo Akomolafe

Yesterday morning a photographer appeared unexpectedly at the door to take pictures of me for an article that would be appearing in a small local newspaper. I had no idea this would be happening, had not yet combed my hair and was wearing different-colored socks.

for the women of Sweet Honey in the Rock

In the sweet light of morning the other day, I stood in the garden in bare feet savoring the tart juice of a plum just fallen from the tree. The birds were busily flitting through the branches and knocking ripe plums to the ground, chattering like all get out. Suddenly my internal vision

I am one of those romantics who find myself in love as often as possible, feeling those high frequency vibrations that accompany the force of attraction. That’s how I can sense, from the inside, how the whole world fits together. I am like the mountain climber who...