Category: Featured

Mania: My Public Experience.

  By Michelle Fajkus Ten years ago, I had what can best be described as a nervous breakdown. A “break with reality.” I “lost it,” “went insane,” and was certifiable. In April 2005, my erratic behavior led to my being committed against my will—literally dragged by the police—to a state-run mental hospital. This was conveniently labeled a “manic episode.” A psychiatrist later told me that mine was a textbook case. I’ve written about it before, so I’ll spare you all the grisly details here. On my honeymoon in Colombia in 2013, life’s twists and turns led me to another manic episode. Fortunately, because...

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Breakfast in a Cloud. {Creative Fiction}

  By Karl Saliter While Nepal changed her, Yeumi changed out of her pajamas, loose-fitting cotton drawstring pants that had been yoga pants for a couple of years—-and were now covered in patches—some sewn on by her, some by dear friends. Her pack, her pants, even her Kindle; there were objects all around her covered with memories. But this morning, she was less aware of them than an underground stone is of the stars. So she simply hoisted her pack, strapped herself in, and hit the walking highway of well-placed stones. On her way up, large groups of tourists...

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No Worries, You’ve Got This.

By Deb Avery It’s happened again. I thought I had worked through all this, and really, most of it I have, but then something like this happens and the scars begin aching again. Not overly painful, just that dull ache that works its way deep into the bones—and the heart. We all know that it’s better to walk alone than walk with others who demean us, judge us, and treat us as if we have two heads. Sometimes I feel as if I do have two heads: one that is open to all the beauty in the Universe, and...

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A Space for My Heart to Bloom.

    By Sarah Harvey I unroll my turquoise yoga mat and smile like a kid with a triple-scoop ice cream cone. I gaze lovingly at this newly created just-for-yoga, just-for-me space and feel this unparalleled sense of satisfaction. My cells are buzzing. Euphoric waves of comfort and creativity pulse through me, softly moving me towards a sweet second of surrender. One look at the carefully placed artwork on the formerly plain, peeling walls brings me to my knees. I fall to my mat and bow inward, towards myself. At first I tremble, overwhelmed with vulnerability, paralyzed with fear. But, I stay...

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Tartan Buddhas!

  By Andrew Peers Introducing the Celtic Buddhist lineage. I felt a spontaneous affinity with the author even before opening the book. The photo on the back of The Mahasiddha and His idiot Servant showed him smiling disarmingly… with just a hint of mischief in his eyes. He was wearing an aquamarine-blue tartan blanket, with a rakusu* over it in Celtic patterns that melted my heart on the spot. Lately I have thought it would be a lovely idea to make this kind of more formal dress the common sign for Buddhism’s “new-lineage-in-town”, Celtic Buddhism. We don’t need to get too fundamentalist about...

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