Author: Tammy T. Stone

That Elusive Encounter with Now.

  By Tammy T. Stone Now. Why is it so hard to be here? I settle down into a comfortable position to meditate, wrapped in soft blankets, and close my eyes. Lately, I’ve been more distracted than usual, and between sporadic flashes of mental nudging to attend to my breath, I am anywhere but here. I don’t dwell on each memory or thought for long—during meditation, that is—but there is a light, frenetic dance of consciousness in which my breath is just beyond the outer reaches of the galaxy, within my field of awareness, obscured. I don’t know where...

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I Take My Emotions For a Walk.

    By Tammy T. Stone It’s Day Nine of a 10 of a meditation retreat. For eight days, we’ve been following a rigid structure of sitting meditation, walking meditation, seva (chores or service), and listening to Dharma talks. The days are bookended by a gentle, pre-dawn yoga practice and barefooted evening walks around lakes scantily illuminated by breezy white lanterns. These activities help mark the passage of time, even as they slip into an ethereal space as untethered to the ground as the thoughts, feelings, memories and fears they are enfolding and ever-generating. On this 9th day, we’re instructed...

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In Compassion’s Arms: Hearing the Dalai Lama Laugh.

  By Tammy T. Stone There are three lines: one for monks, one for Tibetans and one for foreigners. We’re at Dharamsala’s Kalachackra Temple on the first morning of the Dalai Lama’s three-day Introduction to Buddhism teaching. Dusty roads and smaller alleyways wind down the hilly mountains at the foothills of the Himalayas, converging past cafes, kiosks and prayer flags, taking thousands of people to the temple. Men and women must separate at security check; it takes the women 10 times longer to get through, with the exception of the Tibetan nuns. There are far fewer of them than...

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Under the Sky. {Poetry}

  By Tammy T. Stone   Up—and the sky and sun together reveal a forever-dream, inviting us to wonder what might happen if we went soaring right through the gauzy blue, where we might land, what will sink into our bones along the way. But I am still here, on this side, so I keep my gaze steady, only looking up a little, and under the cover of snow, I see electrical wires and tree branches hanging in close conference, sharing secrets. The snow has cloaked their differences but they knew this all along. They don’t ask, “Who am...

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