Daily Life

The Path

I was watching television the other night. Hardly the activity one might expect for a bit of meditative insight, but this is the truth: I was watching television. I’d tried viewing from the couch. Laying on one side and facing the TV, I found my glasses far too temperamental for this position.

A Shift In Attention

I believe meditation has much to offer. I believe, for instance, that the practice can allow us to relax some of the gripping we do. Gripping to hopes. Gripping to fears. Gripping to expectations. Gripping to identities. All of which seems to cause a great deal of tension and suffering.

Returning To Normal

In a few weeks I will, if all goes according to plan, return to in-person teaching. This has not been part of my life since March 2020. So in a few weeks I will, for the first time in many months, walk to Monterey Centre, grab some props, and sit down to meditate with whomever is there.

Really Enough

It’s grey outside. The window to my left reveals low-hanging sky. Leaves and grass and the narrow street are all slightly dark, suggesting rain not long ago. An occasional person wanders by. Rare voices rise muted in the air. Which is the tone of this scene as a whole: muted, subdued, slow.

Down In The Groove

I remember purchasing ‘Down In The Groove’. It was one of the last entries in Dylan’s considerable back catalogue brought into my collection. I’d seen the album before, but had resisted the impulse to bring it home. Though I had not yet read the words quoted above, I’d heard many similar verdicts through the years.

In The World-ness

Through the past many months, I have been discerning what my work with embodied meditation might look like moving forward. Events in the past year or so have provoked this question to the surface. The resulting contemplation has been rich and active and, more often than not, wholly surprising.

Paying Attention

My daughter has been listening to Bob Dylan lately. She’ll come out of her room and, while prepping lunch or making tea, talk about some of the more recent tunes in her playlist rotation. ‘Visions of Johanna’ and ‘Blind Willie McTell’ have come up several times. ‘Shelter From the Storm’. ‘I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight’. ‘Like a Rolling Stone’.

A Simple Return

It was a simple return. My daughter had a pair of socks she wanted to take back. As I was going to the mall anyway, I volunteered to do this. After taking care of my own errands, I searched out the appropriate clothing store, offered up the item and receipt, and watched as the amount was placed on my credit card. Like I said, a simple return.

Room to Breathe

I’ve struggled with this post. Three different drafts have been readied. There’s a sense of pushing in each of them. Too much knowing where the piece is going. Too much wanting to be something specific. As a result, not one of these feels quite right to me. Which is frustrating for any number of reasons.

Little Losses

I used to walk downtown a lot. Sometimes for an acupuncture appointment or work meeting. On other occasions, I’d run errands or go for a cinnamon bun at Bubby Rose’s. Whatever the reason, I used to make the thirty minute journey there and thirty minute journey back several times a month. The pandemic has changed this.

Becoming Familiar With

I’ve been reading A Wonderful Creation: How the LP Saved Our Lives. Looking into what author David Hepworth affirms to be the golden age of the long-playing record (1967 to 1982; from Sergeant Pepper to Thriller), the book considers how our relationship with music altered through this span and how this connection has shifted since.


It took me a moment to understand what I was seeing. Certainly nothing out of the ordinary: four columns of shopping baskets, stacked and sanitized, waiting for use. At the same time, however, there was something different about this.

Just Enough

When Bruce Cockburn’s most recent album appeared in September of 2019, my initial response was disappointment. Crowing Ignites is a collection of instrumental pieces. While I do admire Cockburn’s musicality – he is, in my opinion, one of the most accomplished guitarists of my lifetime – this is not what draws me to him.

A Little Less So

I started listening to a podcast recently. The Daily Poem, as the name suggests, offers poetry every weekday morning. Episodes begin with a recitation. This is followed by a short commentary from the show’s host, David Kern. A second reading then concludes each broadcast.


Since returning from another month in Colorado, I’ve done a fair bit of reading. One book that has held my attention through this span is ‘Birds Art Life’ by Kyo Maclear. Among several other things, this work acknowledges, embraces, and with appropriate discretion celebrates the lulls in our lives.

Called to Pause

In 1999, Stephen Reid was given an eighteen year prison term. His crimes were robbery and unlawful confinement. Sometime prior to this, he became addicted to heroin and cocaine. At some point following his conviction and confinement, Susan Musgrave – Reid’s partner of many years – released Origami Dove.

Meditation Buddies

A student emailed recently, pleased with how regular her home practice had become. While I imagine several factors played into this development, one was  identified as key. A routine had emerged between her and a friend, someone who also wanted to make meditation part of her daily life.

Opportunity In Overwhelm

I find myself in a difficult position these days. It’s a busy time of year – as is often the case, truth be told – and I’ve been sick the last week or so. This means my already robust workflow has been left mostly unattended for a while, allowing a strong moving stream to become a raging torrent. I have meetings to schedule and essays to prepare, classes to ready for and talks to present. 


Fires burn tonight. Throughout British Columbia, more than five hundred wildfires are alight. Thousands of people have fled their homes; nearly four times as many wait on evacuation alert. Highways and airports have closed. Though my corner of the province has been spared this fate, a smoky haze has lingered over everything these past weeks.

Her Mercy

In a recent comment, Emily raised that most pertinent question: “How do I do this?” How does one honour the body – the clear, potent wisdom of the body – while, in her case, taking on the professional “role of digital guide and web designer”? Many of us ask this. How do I bring the openness of meditation into the various roles I hold in the so-called ‘real world’? 

On Comments

“Will this be easy to maintain?” While designing this website, this question arose a lot. While I did hope the site would become a useful resource for us, it was not something I could afford to spend hours updating. So again and again I voiced these words – and many decisions reflect their influence. This is why, for instance, there has been no comments section here.

Roger That

I woke early last Sunday morning; shortly after one. Normally this is cause for distress, realizing another sleepless night may have arrived. This time around, however, was different. A sense of delight pulsed through my body. Simmering excitement suddenly came to full boil. Roger Federer was playing in the final match of this year’s Australian Open.

Bone on Bone

Bruce Cockburn’s new album just came out. Bone on Bone is the twenty-fifth studio release in a recording career dating back almost fifty years. It also happens to be Cockburn’s first in quite a while – since 2011’s Small Source of Comfort. Is it any good? While I understand this question – it seems a most natural inquiry – it’s not one I’ve really considered.

The Path Is Not A Book

‘I thought you would save me.’ These words arose in my mind the other day. I was sitting at the dining room table, enjoying breakfast. My gaze, which had wandered out the window and into the waking day, was drawn back by one of our bookcases. It’s a sizeable structure, seven feet high and three across. The two upper shelves are swollen with dharma books.

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