Author: Tammy T. Stone

The Yellow Ribbon for the Dalai Lama

  By Tammy T. Stone Thousands of people have already crowded into the sprawling Kalachakra Temple compound in Dharamsala, India by the time my husband and I arrive at 8:00 a.m. We’re gathering in anticipation of His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s first day of teachings at the very temple where he has his private chambers, and where he frequently addresses the public. Everywhere you look, your eyes rest on a sea of Tibetan monks, nuns and laypeople, a sizable smattering of foreign tourists and a substantial sprinkling of Indians, many of them journalists, cameras and video gear in tow....

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The Drive to be Heard: Finding Silence in the Age of Social Media.

  By Tammy Stone “Silence is a true friend who never betrays.” – Confucius I’m hardly a pioneer in noticing that huge doses of time on Facebook (to say nothing of the Twitters/Instagrams/Snapchats/whatevers/blogs) compromise everything from the way I manage time, the way my brain and mind works, and the way I feel about myself. The kicker is that I’m actively curating my own personal descent into the e-rabbit hole with every group I join, every page I like, and even everything I don’t attend to, on purpose or by accident, stuff that ends up disappearing from my virtual...

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Anthem of Love.

  By Tammy T. Stone   Because my mind is often set to the tune of movies, whenever the word love pops into my mind, the first definition that flashes before me is from the 1970 tear-jerker-to-end-all tear-jerkers, Love Story. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” I swoon when I hear it and appreciate the sentiment, but I’d qualify this by adding that it’s still nice to say sorry when we really mean it. Thinking about love more seriously and deeply, my heart extends to these very troubled and unstable times we find ourselves in, when running...

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Pema Chödrön & the Path Past Fear.

  By Tammy T. Stone Confess your hidden faults. Approach what you find repulsive. Help those you think you cannot help. Anything you are attached to, give that. Go to the places that scare you. ~ Machig Labdrön When I think of freedom, two things can happen. One: I’m at the bottom-most depths of the ocean, but I can breathe, floating in blissful peace, burdened neither by gravity nor any worldly concern. Two: I’m hurtling into outer space where, also gravity-free, I can look at our tiny marble of a planet sullied with the fiery tornado of my emotional...

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Journaling as a Mindfulness Practice.

  By  Tammy T. Stone Before mindfulness became a household word, and far before I had any idea why I was writing, or that writing could be used as part of a therapeutic or spiritual practice, I was journaling. It was an instant love affair. My first diary had yellowy lined paper crusted with gold at the edges and a plush leathery cover with an illustration of a bear holding bright balloons. It came with a gold (well, probably brass) lock and key that I coveted as the gateway to a world of secrets and confessions I treasured like...

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