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Beginner's Heart
death, not taxes ~
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I am working on my death. Well, actually, it’s more like I’m working on my life up to my death. But I’m trying to hold that singularly discomforting goal in mind — the one event no one avoids. My friends are dropping around me. Like petals from a perfect white Iceberg rose, they drift into…
a circle of desks, with the Buddha in the middle ~
By
Britton Gildersleeve
The Buddha talks quite a bit about teaching, about learning. He did almost almost all his teaching outside, to my knowledge (which isn’t as encyclopædic as I’d like!). Not in a circle of too-small desks, in a room w/out windows, dominated by a green chalk board and a broken clock. Not in anything remotely resembling…
every day, the laundry: a tale of Buddha nature ~
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I hate laundry. Really — I mean it. I once told my sons, in a fit of I’ve had it! that I would remember their childhood years as great mountains of laundry. And while I also remember games and hugs and shared confidences and the smell of baby hair, I still remember laundry, too. It’s…
cowgirls, Buddhism, and the ‘t’ in meditation ~
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I can’t run anymore. Haven’t been able to for years. My doc told me that if I fell one more time on either knee, I’d lose a kneecap. All that’s left pretty much is bone on bone — cartilage went MIA years ago. And I don’t walk on a treadmill, since my joint replacement. Worst…
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