the land of my birth, is famous for its culture of grieving. Our word in English to keen or to lament comes from the Irish word caoineadh, meaning to cry. One of the significant rituals of this grieving culture is called a wake. James Joyce’s epoch-defining novel Finnegan’s Wake references this ritual. To this day, over half of the funerals in Ireland involve some form of a wake. At a wake, the body of a loved one is laid out in their home. For two or three days, the family stays with the body, and the community comes and pays their respects and shares their sympathies. • • • • • Every life is like a day. We be... posted on Jul 18 2023 (4,788 reads)

exultations: Before us are the fields, already green. Facing the immense, clear sky, of a blazing indigo, my eyes — so far from my ears! — open nobly, welcoming in its calm that indescribable placidity, that harmonious, divine serenity which dwells in the limitlessness of the horizon. Art by Ryōji Arai from Every Color of Light This longing for the infinite accompanies the young man and the old donkey as they cross the hills and valleys on their daily pilgrimages: The evening extends beyond its normal limits, and the hour, infected with eternity, is infinite, peaceful, unfathomable. Again and again, Platero’s presence magnifies the poet&... posted on Jul 25 2023 (4,038 reads)

Nhat Hanh’s courageous path of engaged action reveals how insight, community, and a deep aspiration to serve the world can offer hope, peace, and a way forward for millions. The film’s release on April 2, 2022 coincides with the release by his students of an Open Letter calling for peace and an immediate ceasefire in Ukraine: https://plumvillage.org/articles/an-o... Content Warning: This film includes a few brief scenes which some viewers may find upsetting (including sounds and images of war). These are intended to convey the true suffering caused by war, but they may also be triggering for some people, so please use your discretion when sharing this film with children."... posted on Jul 29 2023 (4,544 reads)

a sleety, bitter night” when Father Ed came to meet him, his memory altered the weather to fit his mood. For, according to Dowling’s desk calendar and his speaking schedule, Father Ed visited him late in the evening on Saturday, November 16, 1940. And, on that night, according to contemporary newspaper reports, Manhattan’s temperature was indeed chilly—just above freezing—with some wind gusts, but there was no precipitation. What Bill sought to convey with his images of Father Ed’s “coat…covered with sleet” and his “hat…covered with snow” was the courage with which Dowling selflessly sailed straight into the storm... posted on Aug 2 2023 (6,250 reads)

29, 2013 Today is my father's birthday. If  he were living today, he'd be 102. I cannot even imagine that. He was 67 when he died, and that's too young, but lately, as I stare at some hard realities of aging and mortality, I begin to appreciate the fact that  he didn't have to endure a long period of frailty, pain, and dependence. My father was himself to very the end, brilliant and good and a force of nature, the most important person in my world, and I miss him terribly even now.  Maybe especially now. I find solace in these words from a poem my friend Naomi Shihab Nye wrote after the death of her own beloved father:  There's a wa... posted on Aug 6 2023 (3,641 reads)

century has witnessed an incomprehensible savaging of flesh.  Its global and local wars, genocides, politically directed torture and famine, terrorist attacks, the selling of children and women into prostitution, and personal wanton violence to family members and street victims would be more than enough evidence for a non-terrestrial to condemn us for criminal disregard for the muscle fibers, fluids, and neural networks within which we live.  An alien visitor might not notice, however, that these painfully tangible wounds to the body politic are symptomatic manifestations of highly abstract ideas that rapidly gained a disproportionate amount of physical power.  While viol... posted on Sep 17 2023 (2,313 reads)

became a scientist because I wanted to save lives and I wrote poetry to save myself. My book of poems, The Whisper, is a lyrical conversation I had with the tiny voice that I had ignored for years while I climbed the corporate ladder. [From the book's blurb] Poems written by an executive who could no longer ignore the tiny voice inside herself that had an important message for her and the business world. The Whisper is a poetic engagement with the intimacy and audacity of being here human, alive. It reminds of what it is to hide from the world, and in doing so becoming hidden to our own selves. An invitation to integrate the many and multitudes that make us whole and avoid our se... posted on Oct 7 2023 (3,776 reads)

the external parts of your life are like a dream. The Talmud says if you really want to live, then die before you die. Let go of the shell you're in while you’re alive so you can get out of the cage that holds you. Then, share the message with everybody else. Not long before I made the decision to leave the rock band, I invited a friend of mine over for Friday night dinner. We called it for 7 p.m., but as I continued to glance at the clock, it quickly went from 7:15 to 7:45. I looked at the food on the counter and realized he wasn’t showing up. My table faced the door, and I had left it wide open so I could hear him if he was lost and looking for it, but what happened ... posted on Feb 13 2024 (3,694 reads)

it. I had a lot of time on my own and I had very loving parents, but I spent a great deal of time alone in my room. And I read a lot and I got interested in magic, performing magic very early on. I was probably nine years old. And when you’re nine, doing a card trick or an actual miracle occurring — there’s gray area between that. The idea that there are things that we don’t understand when we see them and don’t make sense, and as a practicing magician, creating images that gave people the feeling that they were seeing something that they weren’t seeing, it blurred the line for me where reality begins and ends. And it’s still blurred. Tippett:&nb... posted on Nov 30 -0001 (26 reads)

time, I was with a bunch of strangers in India. I was giving a presentation, and power went out. It was in a dark hall, and I was with two other colleagues. I was so embarrassed because we had invited all these people here. It was a public talk, and we couldn't do anything about it. Our mic was gone. There was no light. Everyone's sitting here in darkness, and I was just like, "Oh my goodness."You know, when the power goes out, you feel like you should be in control of it, because you're hosting the event. I was so embarrassed, and we just kept going on, talking in the dark, hoping people would stay. It was really ridiculous. I mean, there were no windows. Nothing. It was a dark hall.All... posted on Dec 31 1969 (44 reads)

each one, not just for somedisplay Kindness as you listenLove with love that never ends.search for Meaning as you NurtureOpenness makes strangers, friendsfoster Peace and learn by Playingas you Quest, may you Revere.welcome Shadow, welcome Silence,Teachers bring transformation near.work for Unity with Vision,Wonder at the mysteryYearn and follow your desireslive God’s Spirit Zealously.Charles: I'd love to invite us just to have a moment of silence, just to let that magnificent song, the images, the words, settle into a deep place. Let's just pause for a moment….Mary Ann, please speak to us of spiritual literacy.Mary Ann: Okay. Spiritual literacy is, we define that as the abili... posted on May 5 2024 (2,199 reads)

communities to hold conflict and navigate complexity across various levels of authority. She holds a Bachelors of Engineering from the American University of Beirut, a Masters in Public Policy from the Harvard Kennedy School, and is an incoming PhD candidate at UC Berkeley, where she will research the pedagogical and theoretical implications of generative AI. Vartika Sharma is a collage artist and illustrator based in New Delhi, India. Inspired by surrealism and symbolism, she creates emotive images through bold compositions. Her digital and print work has appeared in The New Statesman, The New York Times, The Atlantic, The Atavist Magazine, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. Poking fun at ho... posted on Dec 31 1969 (11 reads)