a journal of self-propelled dharma
I have no kids, and no car to drive them around in. The things I am most grateful for are the things I did not choose. I got my drivers’ license at age 16 like many of my peers, and tooled around the burbs (dangerously!) in my dad’s massive Oldsmobile. But I lived in a …
Have you ever done that thing where a little voice in your head says, very clearly: DON’T DO THAT! It’s a bad idea! And then, you just go ahead and do the thing you know you shouldn’t do, and then of course the bad thing happens just like you thought it would if you did? …
I’m almost a biped again, yip yip! Six weeks to the day of my tumble I have graduated to listing along penguin-style, mostly without crutches. It’s a slow hop-along journey. The night I fell off my bike, with my pelvis busted in three places, I stretched. Without an accurate notion of what my injuries were …
Hello to my loyal fanbase—all both of you! Sorry I’ve been out of touch. It’s been a wild time. Here’s what went down. One year ago last June, just after I hauled my monkish ass back to Vancouver after 6 months at San Francisco Zen Center, Bicycle Buddha got hacked to smithereens. Twelve years of …
In Canada people are breathing. I notice this the moment I step off the plane, home from San Francisco for a weekend visit. There is spaciousness here, where people draw breath full down to the belly and then, in a natural and relaxed manner, release the diaphragm and gently exhale. In America it is different. …