Why it’s wacky to judge behavior.
joy
Jamaica holiday, right now.
These are three of my grandchildren. All teenagers. Two sisters. Three cousins. Each is a child of the heart of a lovely configuration of devoted adults.
They’ve known each other their whole lives, though they meet as a trio only a few times a year. Nothing diminishes their acceptance of one another, their love, their trust, their teasing. Whatever they might hide at this point in their life just doesn’t matter. When together they exude that rarest and most precious of energies. Joy. It’s infectious. Read More
When I brought her coffee in bed on our anniversary, as I do many mornings, I said to Dear that it’s a strange thing when the number of years we’ve been married feels bigger than the number of years we’ve been alive.
Which got me thinking: I bet that’s not an uncommon sensation for those who live in wonder at the vastness of existence. People like us, really.
The joy we know today makes it easy to appreciate the time and pain and despair it can take to discover a peaceful heart. It is joy born of becoming ever better at surrender, a skill enhanced by the angels of bullshit who, when necessary, wrench from our clutch whatever we mistake for serious business. Read More
My Other Website
"The push to change the words “nigger” and “injun” in Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, because the so-called offensive nature of those terms might limit today’s readership and appreciation of that literary classic, is a wonderful opportunity to reflect on how we avoid taking responsibility for our feelings––and therefore miss the chance to become more awake, more whole, more useful friends to one another."
The Essay: The Gold in Niggers and Injuns
