The distance we create between ourselves is learned, I believe, habituated with responses that become ingrained, and so feel natural. But the truth is, when I or anyone gets angry in the bubble of a car, that anger derives not from tangled traffic, harried lateness or enervated fatigue. No, the ...
I remember the
bed-and-breakfast crawl
we made visiting New England
in late fall of the festival trees,
the first snow of Vermont
outside a barn-turned pub.
Whether we search the Oxford English Dictionary or the Vedas and the Dictionary for Spoken Sanskrit, Ananda, the Sanskrit word for Bliss, wholly resonates the thought-emotion from the eternal to the local.
Part of surviving a short, unfortunate stint in county jail -- something unimagined in my safe, suburban middle class life -- came down to finding a safe path, a negotiated space of compromise.