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Mopping the kitchen, finding a stamp collection, blaming Shirley Temple
By Our ReadersFebruary 1985Meditation is the root, the plant, the flower and the fruit. It is words that divide the fruit, the flower, the plant, and the root. In this separation action does not bring about goodness: virtue is the total perception.
By Matt LippaOctober 1984He rolls the flower cart down the sidewalk, and I watch him through the window. Six days a week he goes by with his cart of flowers. He comes by just before visiting hours and stays until all the visitors have gone into the hospital.
By Jon RemmerdeOctober 1984September 1984Though no two centuries are very much like each other, some hours perhaps are; moments are; critical moments nearly always are. Emotions are the same. We are the same. The man, not the day, is the lasting phenomenon.
Eudora Welty, “Reality in Chekhov’s Stories”
A Zen monk and a Catholic priest were walking along a road. They came to a baby crying by the side of the road. The monk did nothing. The priest picked up the baby and held it in his arms. The baby stopped crying, and soon the mother came and took it from the priest.
By SparrowAugust 1984Seeing the moon from the desert, from the Ile de la Cite in Paris, from a starry camping night
By Our ReadersJuly 1984Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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