I doubt that you've noticed, but I certainly have - I haven't written to you in two weeks. I'm finding it hard to write at the moment. I'm not sure why, but I can't find the place from where the
These words have been present in me today. Over and over again they arise, a gentle repetitive rhythm … love, and do as you please.
“Our only trouble,” thought Pahóm, “is that we haven’t land enough. If I had plenty of land, I shouldn’t fear the Devil himself.”
Like many of us, I want to be good and wise and happy. But would we recognise those things if we were given them?
I have had two weeks off, and the world has seemed to join me in taking a break. Empty streets and shuttered shops, fathers playing with their children in the woods, houses glowing lightly against the falling darkness. Freedom from the usual round of obligations, from the rhythms of the
Someone I love is suffering, wrote a friend. What can philosophy tell me about my responsibilities to help them?
This morning, I had what I like to dignify by calling a minor epiphany (you could also just call it "a thought", but where's the fun in that?). The epiphany arrived in a cafe. I sipped my double espresso and stared at my notebook. “I am
Alles ist gut wie es ist, said the stillness. Everything is good as it is.
I experience myself as living in a racist society.
Every moment of my life, I am carried by magic.
Should the man save the stranger or his wife?
The actual world had asked something of him. But he lived in the true world and had failed to answer the call.