the barn burned down, now I can see the moon
The barn burned down, now I see the moon
Mizuta Masahide
When the barn is burning
And animals scatter
Sweep up the motes of star dust
Free from form now
Cradle the frightened animals
And don’t forget to look up at the silvery moon
Even more radiant in the darker dark
And remember who you are
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LA Fires
On Tuesday night I was awoken by dry hurricane force winds, what I’ve come to know as fire winds. These are the winds that spearheaded the Sonoma fires that burnt to the north, south and east of my home in 2017. I didn’t lose my home but easily could have. I know others who have lost homes, art, possessions and livelihoods. There are still remnants of these fires on the hills years later. This was a time that brought out mostly the best in the people of my community, sincere gratitude for the first responders, spontaneous urges to offer help and supplies to those in need. It woke us from our sleep walk and we came together as a community. I see the same thing happening in LA.
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A Wonderful Life
As I sit in my living room this New Year’s day I am experiencing feelings of gratitude, possibility and magic. I want to share this feeling with you in case you have been feeling bogged down by all the suffering in the world. If you are alive there is reason for great hope.
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Pruning
At the end of the year I like to reflect and release, prune and reset- try, imperfectly, once again to do what I can and let go of that which does not bear fruit or bring light. It’s clear that my goals in 2024 kind of got away from me. They got so big-electing the first woman president and getting our feet on, what I thought was, the right path, and I got my ass handed to me by the results at each turn. Once again I am clueless. Thankfully, my Zen practice advocates for a state of cluelessness and brings me back again and again to simply not knowing. It reminds me that each moment is a microcosm, that nothing is ever lost, that we are all too deep in it to clearly see the pattern of life as it unfolds.
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Auschwitz
I’ve just returned from a Zen bearing witness retreat at Auschwitz with the Zen Peacemakers. https://zenpeacemakers.org For a little context, anything to do with the holocaust has plagued me since childhood. It was time to bear witness to my own fear and this was the perfect situations for this. People from different parts of the world gathering to practice not knowing, bearing witness and compassionate action. This was not holocaust tourism but a mission to strengthen our ability to keep our eyes open when facing the suffering of ourselves and others-a great asset for any activist.
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FRIENDSHIP
There are all sorts of friendships. There are the neighbors you wave to and sometimes stop to talk with, there are the people you work with, relatives you feel close to and people who share your interests. But the friendships that make you REAL are the ones that endure through fights, break ups, reconciliations, and deep seeing into one another’s hearts. Real friendships take time. We all have our broken places, vulnerabilities and aspects we’d rather no one ever see. A real friend stays around long enough to see those broken places and still love us. They may not like the effects of our shadow but they love us.
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homemaking
From our culture’s viewpoint, homemaking has been deemed a waste of time and a prison where dreams go to die by many on the left and turned into a gilded cage, a “should” with limited options for women by many on the right. Are the only choices to either feel like we’ve wasted our life and talents cooking and cleaning, living in a prison where our true self is dropped at the gate, or spending our lives based on someone else’s idea of what a good life, a good woman, is supposed to be, slaves in our home? They are both constructs. One creates free labor, or a form of slavery, while demeaning the domestic women who love to nurture. The other demeans the feminine aspect elevating the male paradigm of work outside the home being more important than work within the home. To hell with both of these limiting beliefs! Thankfully there are more than just these two paths.
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Autumn
When I went to sleep last night the room was warm from the day’s sun, but by the morning there was a chill. I pulled the comforter that had been resting all summer at the end of the bed, up over me and felt that uniquely autumn coziness that signals the turning of the season. Shortly afterwards it was time to leave the warm nest, throw on some jeans and a tee shirt, and take Max out on our morning walk. My friends have a 5 acre property that they’ve converted into an art farm. Richard is a horticulturist and has used the land as his art canvas. Everywhere there are cacti, ferns, bulbs- like naked ladies and irises-trees from Australia, Africa and local, and many other odds and ends he has picked up on his travels. As an artist I’ve always appreciated walking through his environmental installation. Since I’ve began practicing botanical illustration it’s become even more of a wonderland for me.
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Why I Write
I started to write this newsletter about Elon Musk, Peter Thiel and the rest of the 2025 gang who truly believe they are better than the teeming masses and therefore should have the power to decide which groups are worthy and which groups are cogs. It was going to be about how easy it is to enter into a state of entitlement and how difficult it is to awaken from this sense of deep separation. I know this because I too suffered from this disease. I didn’t have it as bad as some but even my less virulent state of entitlement was difficult to admit to and a devil to unwind. So instead of writing about the problem of deeply engrained entitlement I’d like to share a poem I wrote a few years ago about my process out of that delusion.
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There is more written for mothers these days and the tent is much bigger than it was in the 70’s. The writing is generally about how to use mindfulness to cope with everyday challenges. This is useful, yet not much thought has gone into depth regarding the many other aspects of this important subject that affects a large portion of the population. Western Buddhism has a ways to go to truly include families, not just now and then for a family retreat or for people living in unique Zen communities, but for the rest of us at home and in the world. Disregard of mothers is an active hidden effect of patriarchy in many cultures, including Buddhism. There is a lot of work to do to make up for centuries of neglect and we are just at the very beginning. If Buddhism is to thrive in our Western climate this is something that needs much more attention, thought and love.
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Grasses
Every blade of grass has an angel bending over it saying, "Grow, grow."
Jewish wisdom from the Midrash
As summer approaches the grasses are high. We had a wonderfully wet winter in California and the spring is alive and vibrant with all sorts of plant life. Out my window are lush fig and persimmon trees, roses, rosemary and lavender bushes. I go outside and wiggle my toes in the volunteer crab grass that has taken over the back of the garden. What great good fortune to feel the land under my feet, to be free! It is in this blissful spirit that I share a poem with you.
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Book
When my naturopathic doctor told me I’d need to get rid of much of my books because they collect mold I said “No way”. “Do you want to get healthy or do you want to keep the books?” I hesitated. I treasure my books. They are a life line to a larger limitless world. This love of books goes deep. My mother read at least one book a week and held a seminar each Wednesday afternoon to share what she was learning from these books with other women. Her love of books goes back to her father who cherished reading, mostly Spinoza. Spinoza was a free thinker in the 1700’s, when free thinking was considered a heresy and grounds for expulsion and even death. Throughout human history there have been a handful of people who had the emotional courage to follow their hearts and minds instead of social norms. Oftentimes they sacrificed their lives and well- being to speak truth to the powers that be. Some were killed and some, like Spinoza, were exiled from their communities. How do we thank the people who write words that push human evolution forward even at the threat of exile and death? So you see why I treasure books.
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Walking the tightrope between joy and suffering
My primary Zen vow is to bear witness to the joy and suffering of life. Some consider joy Pollyanna and naive, thinking that despair, given the horrors of the world, is much more realistic. But both joy and suffering are essential aspects of every life, to deny either is unrealistic. At this time, when there is so much despair and dark news, joy becomes a form of activism.
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Under the Fig Tree
Last month I shared a story about Siddhartha sitting under a Rose Apple tree as a young boy during his town’s harvest festival. Today I’d like to share a story about Siddhartha under the sacred fig, or bodhi, tree. Fig trees go by numerous names- ficus, bodhi, banyon, pippala. In Hindu tradition the sacred fig tree represents the infinite expanse of the universe. It is known as the tree of life. If you have ever sat beneath the 150 year old Banyon Tree in Maui, or a seasoned banyon tree anywhere, you have a sense of the apparent boundlessness of these trees. They send out shoots that root into the ground expanding the reach of the mother tree. The banyon tree in Maui has thrown out new shoots that expand the tree to cover a full block in Lahaina. Although burnt by the fires, this banyon tree is already showing new signs of life.
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Under the Rose Apple Tree
I’d like to share a story with you. When Siddhartha, the future Buddha, was a child he went with his family to the annual planting festival, which took place in spring when the farmers were preparing to sow the year’s crops. It was an important event for the whole community. Local farmers and villagers would come from all around to celebrate. The highlight of the ceremony was the ritual plowing of the first furrow. Only after this official opening of the planting season, and the blessing of the crops, would local farmers begin to sow their fields.
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A New Year
I know it is a challenging time and sometimes we may feel too small to do anything significant about all the problems we meet. I hope you bring a bit of kindness and sanity into a world that is sorely in need of these qualities. Even just a simple smile at the check- out person at the grocery store. These things reverberate. And, I hope you find joy in self-expression and in the company other others who support and love you.
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Remembering
As 2023 draws to a close, it’s a great time to sweep the old path clean of leaves and debris in order to better see the first step into the unknowable future. I invite you to join me in a very special, very ancient, practice of remembering together. The practice is called council. In council we sit together around a virtual fire as we speak and listen in a safe space. The space is made safe by the mutual agreement of the group to speak from the heart, listen from the heart, not comment on one another’s words and, as they say in Las Vegas, “what is said here stays here”. This practice started with American indigenous cultures around the camp fire and moved into Zen centers, prisons, and meeting spaces around the world. It has helped create transformation in board rooms, zendos, and living rooms. Council provides us with a safe space to speak into, a space where we are not judged, where no one tries to fix us, where we can just take a breath and be ourselves. I have personally found this practice of speaking and listening immensely helpful and healing. It has created a level of comfort and self- acceptance I’ve never known before.
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Israel and Palestine
Many of us are deeply stirred by the conflict in the middle East. The question of what to think and what to do have been weighing heavily on my mind day and night. I’ve tried multiple times to write a thought piece about the war, from a Buddhist perspective and from my personal perspective as a Jewish person, but each time I write something I receive new information and what I wrote the day before becomes obsolete. So please take what I am sharing today as just my opinion, an opinion that can change as I stay open to better understanding. I read and watch the news and have been in meetings online listening to different perspectives on the situation. The two meetings that stand out for me are the Zen Peacemakers gathering where we heard from Palestinian and an Israeli peacemakers and an online workshop led by a Palestinian Muslim woman and an Israeli Jewish woman.
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What is left undone?
The wind swirls leaves up and down the street in one last dance before winter. The grapes are being harvested, winter has begun its icy whisper. Autumn is a time of gathering and a time of reflection. As the change of seasons turn us within the ancestors draw near. In Mexico this is celebrated as dia los Muertos, the day of the dead. The Jewish culture enters this season with Rosh Hashanah, which begins a 10 day period of self-reflection ending in Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, where we make amends for the passing year’s transgressions.
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Flowers in a field of dry straw
We all go through our losses, unmet expectations, physical challenges and sorrows. Nestling down under the covers and moaning is an important part of the process. But it is also important not to let troubles drag us around like tin cans tied to our tails. Even in the midst of our sorrow and pain exist worlds full of surprises- periwinkle blue flowers, a wise man popping up out of nowhere telling us to have fun or an unexpected meal in the middle of the trail. I still felt lousy and my extended family situation remained unresolved. But this day also contained a sort of sparkling magic, a great dog who likes to sniff everything, surprise people popping up out of nowhere to dispel wisdom, and flowers in a field of dry straw.
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