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Forgive the Ninnies I’m little. Nine years old. Or six, maybe. I don’t remember. We’re at a rodeo. My sister, my mom, my dad. Why? I don’t know. Where? Texas, maybe. All kids under 10 are invited to come into the center ring for a game. I rush down. I like games. A young bull […]

Dear God, I’ve not written for a while. I’d say, it’s because conceptualizing you as other, separate from me, doesn’t sit well with my mature faith. However, as a spiritualigious exemplar—someone from whom others derive some of their spiritualigious thinking—I’m ok with modeling inconsistent theology. I believe my allowing people to see that behind the

Attachment. Non. Merci.   We get attached to concrete objects—dishes, cell phones, cars, houses. We get attached to ideas—roles we play and maintaining this is right and that is wrong. We get attached to comfort—and thinking that we oughtn’t be uncomfortable. We get attached to self and others.   And plans. We get attached to

Today’s scheduled article — cleverly entitled, “Attachment. Non. Merci.” — starts with a story at the top of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. and then weaves into a lesson about not getting too attached to outcomes. That’s not happening. You aren’t reading that article today. Finding bandwidth to make the final edits was stressing me.

“Estoy…um, how do you say ‘cold’?” Emmett asks. We are attempting a conversation in Spanish. “What are you trying to say?,” I inquire, as I bite into the street taco I brought back to our heavily air conditioned hotel room in Mexico City. “I’m cold.” “Cold is frio. But it’s *tengo* frio. Not *estoy* frio.”

It is Yom Kippur — the holiest day of the Jewish years.  I’m in my backyard. In a tent.  Fasting.  Contemplating. It’s my practice.   The dogs tell me and repeat: “Clear and present danger at the front door. Clear and present danger at the front door.”    I unzip, go through the house, and

Teaching with Heart The score that the tenth graders get the first time they take something called the CAHSEE—a California-issued standardized test—determines the amount of state funding the school as a whole receives. The pressure, created by bureaucrats who have no idea what actually goes into a school, is crippling on this school filled with

    Moments ago—this very evening—immediately after flipping up the switch for our bedroom lights, I thought, “That overhead light is too bright.”   Never in my life before had I had that particular thought.   I’d heard Jane say it. Many times.In many situations.  It’s just that I’d never thought it.   In fact,

Learning to learn and learning to learn about love “Fist, Thumb, Fingers, Pinky.” “Fist, Thumb, Fingers, Pinky.” “Fist, Thumb, Fingers, Pinky.” “Fist, Thumb, Fingers, Pinky.” I say each word—Fist, Thumb, Fingers, Pinky—as I put that part of my right hand at the edge of the table. Students start doing it along with me. I continue,

Seeing God — American Airline flight 1849 from CLT to PDX. There’s a man sitting in the seat across the aisle from me. He is wearing athletic shorts, a short sleeve t-shirt, and Giorgio Armani Collection glasses with matte nickel frames. He just keeps talking and talking to the woman in the seat on the