Author: Dana Gornall

The Time I Walked on Fire.

By Dana Gornall I have been a fan of “The Office” for a couple of years now. Yes, I realize I am late to the game—thank Netflix. One character I identify with is Pam. She’s quiet yet dependable, has an unexpected sense of humor, is hardworking, and has a difficult time speaking up for herself quite a bit of the time. One of my favorite episodes is when the entire group goes to the beach for the day (well, except for poor Toby who is forced to stay at the office) and they participate in team building activities and...

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The Reason I Can Totally Relate to the Buddha’s Parents

  By Dana Gornall I have often said that being a parent is one of the hardest things I do. My kids are 15, 17 and 21, and it sill holds true. For some reason you think it gets easier as they get older and in some ways it does. You don’t need to take them to the potty anymore. You don’t need to wipe noses and change diapers and you can leave them home alone. The part of parenting that makes it so hard is the attachment. One of the main focuses of Buddhism is non-attachment. Attachment causes...

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I Have Many Books, Mala Bracelets and a Yoga Mat, but Does that Make Me More Spiritual?

  By Dana Gornall I have a love affair with office supplies. I’m not sure when it all began, really, but for quite a long time now I have felt my heart skip a beat every time I find myself in any store aisle containing Post-it notes, pens, file folders, color-coded tabs and oh, the day planners! I have had many day planners. Anyone would probably think I must be very organized to have such strong emotions regarding office supplies, but in fact, I seem to lean toward the more scattered, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type of schedule. It’s not great. I...

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I’m Losing My Namaste So Maybe It’s Time to Kill the Buddha

  By Dana Gornall   Scaling the pale, gold-flecked linoleum covered steps to my basement, I walk partially on tiptoe. The floor is cold against my bare feet, and I tend to walk on tiptoe anyway—a habit I’ve retained from my ballet days, eons ago. I’m rushing, as I tend to often do on weekday mornings, and my clothes are in the dryer. I flip on the light switch, hoping to avoid a cobweb or whatever creepy crawly that may be lurking in the dark, damp basement. Pulling open the dryer door I fish through the clothes and pull...

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Looking for Dharma in the Weeds

  By Dana Gornall I’m not very skilled in growing things. I’ve been known to neglect houseplants, leaving them anorexic and straggly; bowing over dry soil, reaching to get a patch of sunlight as its leaves slowly curl and the tips turn brown. It’s not on purpose. I don’t mean to forget. I simply get busy—distracted. I’ve had two trees just die. I had hired someone a few years ago to plant them for me. He instructed me to water them daily and I did. The next spring they bloomed pretty pink flowers from each branch and I was...

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