Italian sun glowed through stained glass windows in the upper Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, but we headed for the crypt beneath the cathedral. The Poverty and Simplicity of Saint Francis had been covered by grandeur
Read more →Spirituality
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
Read more →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,
Read more →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
Read more →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
Read more →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
Read more →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
Read more →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
Read more →Yesterday evening, after another wild thunderstorm, I look in the nesting box closest to my house and find 5 tiny white eggs nestled in feathers. The Tree Swallow Mama feathers her nest while she lays one egg
Read more →I hurry uphill, out of breath. Instead of sitting quietly at my altar inside, I push and pant to reach the top of the trail before the evening sun sinks from sight. The closest hills are across
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