Monthly Archives: mars 2012

//mars

mars 2012

In cold blood in the schoolyard

By | 2015-10-02T15:40:26+01:00 mars 20th, 2012|Textes|

Words seem flat when small children are murdered in cold blood as they were in France yesterday. I'm not sure I even know what such an act means. Except that to kill and harm, I would have to separate myself from the other and focus only on the differences. And whatever was different from me [...]

So much depends on a pair of red-handled scissors

By | 2015-10-02T15:40:49+01:00 mars 18th, 2012|Textes|

What could be noted here tonight? Perhaps that is the most worthy note: a question that incites me to look, to listen, to open my heart to the infinite possibilities right here at my desk at this very hour, Sunday drifting nonchalantly toward Monday, a drizzle outside, me thinking of heading off to bed. A [...]

Consuming yoga?

By | 2015-10-02T15:43:30+01:00 mars 13th, 2012|Textes|

Ever since an article appeared on the sports pages in the newspaper last week about Americans turning yoga into a competitive sport (even hoping to bring it to the Olympics as a medal event!), I am at a loss for words. Although I don't practice yoga, I have rarely heard of something so absurd as [...]

An ongoing question

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:15+01:00 mars 7th, 2012|Textes|

When you stop to consider all the "current events" that capture our attention every day, it seems impossible to settle on one, to select a moment, an event, a person, an issue, worth singling out from the rest. Is the ongoing slaughter in Syria more "captivating" than a presidential debate in France, Greece's ongoing economic [...]

A dead poet lives

By | 2015-10-02T15:44:13+01:00 mars 4th, 2012|Textes|

More engagement with the "past" again today: particpated in a tribute reading following the death of an American poet who had been a pillar of the Anglophone poetry scene in Paris. Poets of all sorts came together to honor John, his work and his support for many of us. Saw many people I haven't seen [...]

The times of our lives

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:15+01:00 mars 3rd, 2012|Textes|

Spend much of the day with old photographs, in response to a request for pictures to build an archive of Dana, my teacher's sangha, my own original heart sangha. Each image stirs an association with people, places, times, lives. Sometimes there is a tug of wistful regret for what and who is "gone," nostalgia for [...]