Six months after the brutal murder of 26 children and staff at Sandy Hook Elementary, the Catherine Violet Hubbard Animal Sanctuary is becoming a reality. We want it to be a place of peace, peace born of terrible, incomprehensible violence. Peace is the only answer to evil. Because no amount of hate, no gun or bullets, can kill love. Especially the love of a child like our daughter, Catherine Hubbard.
I am not alone in being glued to the news when something awful happens. Perhaps it's because we think the outcome will change if we watch; more likely it's because we cannot fathom the horror, and have to watch again and again, ad nauseam, in order to make it real to us.
Daylight is fading, eyelids are drooping -- a gentle goodnight seems natural. On the other hand, there is the "simple task" of getting a child to bed, tucking them in, and finally going to take care of "grown-up stuff." How difficult it is to preserve this escapable sacred experience.
Seeing the world through Buddha's eyes is the work of a lifetime, one that constantly needs to be renewed at every life stage and in every societal circumstance.
Yunyan asked Daowu, "How does the Bodhisattva Guanyin use those many hands and eyes?" Daowu answered, "It is like someone in the middle of the night reaching behind her head for the pillow."
At the heart of Buddhist teachings is a crucial ambiguity that has become increasingly problematic as Buddhism has globalized. This ambivalence needs to be resolved if the Buddhist tradition is to help us address most effectively the challenges that now confront us.
Every day we wait for a clear path to citizenship, 1,100 families lose someone to deportation. This includes mothers of U.S. born children and dreamers.
When the Hasidim of Kotzk prayed, they did not move. Any external sign of piety was deemed pretentious. The story is told of a great student, who after one prayer session -- though someone observing from the side would not even have noticed that he was praying -- was bathed in sweat and had actually cracked two of his teeth.
After investing all of this time and energy searching for an answer to whether or not God exists, here's my conclusion: I don't know.
The world is full of heartache, sorrow, disasters, anxiety, tragedies in-the-making, bad news both big and small. I'm just as happy as anyone to log on to one news site after another, but if it starts pulling me down, if it makes me angry, I do just what Dad did: give it back to God.
The "I am" is a way of affirming the blessings with which we are bestowed, recognizing the core of our identity, and giving thanks for the limitless possibilities before us.
Zen has a great deal to offer. And it needs reformation. Like everything else, Zen is a work in progress.
We've enrolled prayer and reason as weapons in the culture wars. But how about a National Day for Prayer and Reason? Because there are plenty of Americans who do not want to separate the two.
For the last 24 years we have been going to the Western Wall with only one goal in mind: to pray as a community of women with Torah and talllit, in full voice. This struggle for our rights as Jewish women has put me in newspapers as well as in prison; however, my intention from the beginning was neither of these things. I simply wanted to pray at Judaism's holiest site.
"Blessed are you, Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who has not made me a woman." As a committed Orthodox Jew, I'm supposed to say that each morning. But this blessing is really tough.
Every year on the first Thursday of May a peculiar thing happens: the president and government officials across the nation ask us to pray.