If ever you are ready, the cave’s mouth awaits you; the sacred awaits you.
Sometimes I imagine someone. It turns out to be no one. Unless...
Eli found a mysterious, anonymous love note in her bag in Jerusalem. Where did it come from?
A former Buddhist monk got me thinking that time is a horrifying illusion that we can transcend.
A dream sparks confusion, wistfulness, and mystical possibility.
We're always talking about "it." It is glorious outside. It is a shame. But what IS this "it"?
