How do you hold your love?
Do you hold your love from stillness,
with nowhere else to go,
with nothing else to do?

How do you hold your love?
Do you hold your love with acceptance,
with open palms and open arms,
with unabashed surrender?

How do you hold your love?
Do you hold your love from wholeness,
with an all-encompassing embrace,
with your heart as wide as the world?

How do you hold your love?
Do you hold your love with wonder,
with an interest and eagerness to understand her,
with a selfless and undivided worship?

How do you…

I wonder at the earth, my home.
Wonder at her relationships
With space, time, and darkness,
With the sun, moon, and stars.

I wonder at Her deepest oceans and highest peaks,
Wonder at Her deserts and Her forests.
At Her skies, rain, wind, and thunder.

I wonder at Her motions, at Her currents, and seasons.
I wonder at Her plants and critters, at Her people,
Wonder at how She holds me in Her,
And at how I hold Her in me.

I wonder at Her wonder, at Her knowings, Her understandings, Wonder at Her music, poetry, art, and expression. I…

One of the yummiest parts of my day is found in the company of my family’s stillness as we sit around the dinner table just before we eat. “Should we have our moment of silence?” Gideon, my eight-year-old, the oldest of our four kids, reminds us. The other kids get excited and silence quickly blankets the room.

Of the many forms of prayer we express in our home, all of which I love, there is something unusually special about our dinner prayer. As we sit and listen to the deafening voice of Silence, our busy thoughts become cleansed by Her…

Everyone needs a friend like my Snow Leopard Guardian Angel — a bright light, a beacon, a North Star, a teacher, a wise counselor, a polished mirror to see your own reflection.

The more people and relationships I encounter, the more I realize how rare and precious a friend you are. With no time or space to waste, you push outward on every wall of my being. Your words and actions never idle or sit stagnant. …

Life is good. As if there aren’t enough miracles to be grateful for — my heart, breath, and awareness, the sun’s warmth, the earth’s protection, the most present and awake partner, my Snow Leopard guardian angel, exemplary moral parents, the list goes on — I have been graced with four of the most curious, creative, playful, loving, and just downright good children.

Each is an undeniable testament to their mother — to her astonishing and powerful presence, to her wisdom, to the keen awareness she places around her words and actions, which she paints with such remarkable tact and beauty…

You are a miracle. Don’t think so? Point to something more miraculous, more awe-inspiring, more marvelous, than you, than your existence.

Yet, if you’re anything like me, this miraculous occasion, which we call life, is too easily and too often — in fact habitually — squandered in trivial pursuits. We compare, scrutinize, and pity ourselves and others. We gossip and fill the uncomfortable silence with our pointless words. …

You and I aren’t so different. Your skin may be a different color than mine. You may have Hindu or Catholic roots while I was raised in a Mormon culture. You may pee sitting down and I standing up. Your passport may say Peruvian and mine American.

But let’s not forget some basic facts here. We are each children of the Sun and Earth. We each want to be free from suffering, to be free from fear, hatred, and anxiety. We want to be safe, warm, and comforted. We all want a place or a person to call home. We…