The morning after Sankara’s funeral, we slowly walked the dusty road to the Sankara Mutt (temple) and bought flower garlands from a vender on the corner. The modest cement area where we’d meditated with the sage, where
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Like so much else in India, Sri Sankaracharya’s funeral felt dreamlike and foreign, comforting and familiar. When the main ritual began, priests poured offerings on the sage’s head. His bright silk shrouds were soaked with yogurt, honey,
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After a late night drive from the Ramana Ashram to Kanchipuram, Vic and I slept late. When we left our hotel in the morning, hundreds of soldiers in tan uniforms blocked traffic near the Mutt. Thousands of
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Sri Sankaracharya had a fever and wasn’t giving audiences when we arrived in Kanchipuram, India for a third visit in 1994. We were disappointed, but not surprised. He was 99 and frail. Vic and I sat in
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In late August 2022, Patricia Martin of the C.G. Jung Society of Chicago interviewed me about my experiences with Marion Woodman from 1988 to 2011. Our enthusiastic conversation brought memories of the many ways Marion transformed my
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Blurry from jet lag, we followed the desk clerk’s vague directions and searched for the temple. Sari-clad women walked through dusty streets behind cows they were taking to pastures and ox carts lumbered along loaded with wood
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We grabbed our carry-ons and sprinted to the ticket counter. Our plane had just left, but the British Air agent found us seats on a different airline. “You’d better hurry,” she said. “It boards in a few
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I stacked energy bars and Imodium on the dining room table a month before we left. Then there were vaccinations and clothes for winter in New York and summer in South India. Toilet paper, malaria pills, water
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Orange fritillary butterflies flutter beside the trail, dining on coneflower nectar and dew. The dogs run in front of me. Old Willow leads in a burst of energy, but her speed doesn’t last. Disco comes behind, bouncing
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In late June, I receive encouraging editorial feedback about the first draft of my book about Monarch butterflies. After reading the first few pages, my belly clenches and an inner voice says, “You can’t do this. How
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