“I had a dream about you, Marion,” I said. “I typed it up.” I handed Marion Woodman an envelope with the dream inside when we passed each other on the conference center stairs. I’d had this dream
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“I’m afraid to die,” Vic said. His raspy voice was soaked with despair. I rubbed his tight shoulders while he leaned into me, his head resting against my heart. “I meditated and studied with wise teachers for
Read more →We imagine heroes as willful and disciplined. The hero wins with a smart positive attitude. We accept the top part of this diagram, the “known” part, where we’re consciously working a problem and following our plan. But
Read more →Under cover of night, hundreds of migrant children were moved to tent encampments surrounded by high metal fences in the Texas desert. How is it OK to jail children and separate them from their parents? Can you
Read more →Last week, I came home from town to find Pat sitting on my back porch. I expected her, but not so early. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t home when she arrived. We don’t need formalities. We
Read more →When the Dalai Lama visited the United States for the first time in October 1979, he spent four days at Wisdom’s Goldenrod, a philosophy and meditation center near Seneca Lake in New York. Sidney Piburn, a friend and
Read more →Vic and I waited in a quiet room in our friend Steve’s house while the sound engineer set up his recording equipment. Vic wore thick layers of bulky clothing over his cancer swollen body. Four months before, after a severe drug reaction, he’d
Read more →“I watched Vic talking on YouTube earlier today,” Deborah Gregory, poet and Jungian writer at The Liberated Sheep, wrote in a blog comment a few days after the Paris attacks. “It is the first time I have
Read more →Sharyn and I met in 1973. I’d moved to Hamilton, NY with my husband and our three-year-old son after Vic got a teaching job at Colgate University. I was pregnant and mad. I didn’t want to move away
Read more →“I had a dream last night,” my husband said in a thin raspy voice. “Really?” I said. Although he’d experienced a lifetime of vibrant dreams, he’d had few during recent months fueled by prednisone, codeine, and Ambien. “Yeah. I dreamed
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