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A Spell Without Books

Austin is built on a series of criss-crossing fault lines, the intersections of which cause parts of the city to sag into what might be called “seeps” or “sucks” — places where the earth breathes in and out, sometimes seeping and sometimes sucking.

A New World

Sunbeams

To stand on one leg and prove God’s existence is a very different thing from going down on one’s knees and thanking him.

Søren Kierkegaard

The Guru

Excerpted From Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism

People always come to the study of spirituality with some ideas already fixed in their minds of what it is they are going to get and how to deal with the person from whom they think they will get it. The very notion that we will get something from a guru — happiness, peace of mind, wisdom, whatever it is we seek — is one of the most difficult preconceptions of all.

The Turquoise Dragon

Remembering Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche (1940-1987)

He was a short man with glasses and a penetrating smile, and a high, almost falsetto voice. He was enamored of Oxford English and taught elocution, after his own comical fashion. (Elocution lessons were given at one o’clock in the morning, before an audience of 400 laughing spectators.)

The Universe Is Made Of Stories

An Interview With Eaglefeather

One of my hopes is that by telling stories from different cultures, I’m weaving closed some tears in the social fabric of a society that values the white, Christian, male perspective, and shuns and suppresses other ways of seeing. By telling stories from different parts of the world to children all over the world, I hope I’m uniting people by expanding their awareness of each other.

Sunday Mornings

A cloud of golden light, a half-gallon of ice cream, the Book Barn

Sunbeams

Enlightenment is a record which we time-minded make with the intellect, because the intellect likes to divide, and cuts time into years and days and hours, and constructs history, whereas time itself underlying history knows no such human artificial cuttings.

D.T. Suzuki

Selected Poems

(701 – 761)

Intuition

“I love you,” I shout. I can’t believe I spoke so directly. Usually I prefer to communicate on a more sub-conscious level. “I love you, Christa.” But Christa is already typing, and has written over my words.