We Are Beloved

Our weekly meditation meets on Zoom
on Tuesday from 8 - 8:55am Pacific
Given freely — donations warmly welcome
Join meditation: https://us06web.zoom.us/j/97932637709
Cancellations are noted here! None currently scheduled until winter break.

Weekly Meditation Gathering

A gentle, guided drop-in session open to all. This gathering explores a wide range of practices — each session is created to suit the moment and those present. The way we practice sees meditation as an innate human capacity, recognizing that our minds are made for curiosity and wonder, and making space to fall naturally into states of contemplation, rest, and reverie for integration and creation. This practice is amenable to busy minds and is trauma-aware: choice, grounding, exploration of somatic experience, and thoughtful self-regulation are steady threads.

This event is given freely; your choice to donate supports my ability to share teaching in widely-accessible formats. Thank you!

Weekly Newsletter

From My Bed I Feel the Life of the Earth

Nov 13, 2025 — Every morning I wake to the same trees. Day after day, the familiar shape of their branches and needles greets me, and every day it is new.

Everyday Miracles

Nov 6, 2025 — Since speaking to you last I have climbed into winged metal tube and flown across the continent, from the Pacific Coast to the Atlantic Coast, twice. I sat among the clouds, and above the clouds, and it was absolutely normal, and it was a miracle.

I am Loving Awareness

Oct 23, 2025 — I understand grief in some aspects as a blessing: life is never so meaningful or beautiful as when we remember that it will not last forever.

Plunging

Oct 16, 2025 — Last time I knew, the water here was about 50 degrees Farenheit; I haven't asked since the temperature turned colder, heh.

Imperfect, Inexpert, Eccentric, Glorious

Oct 9, 2025 — There's a ratty old fence around the athletic field in town; it's due to be replaced in the spring. One woman, Alex Anagnostopoulos, got a bee in her bonnet about the possibility of making public art here.

Steadfast

Oct 1, 2025 — I want to weave resistance to evil into my daily living as solidly as I have woven care for myself and others into it.

A Blessed Autumnal Equinox: Exquisiteness & Imperfection

Sep 25, 2025 — Enoughness is a powerful medicine in this time in the world. It is an important time to ground ourselves, to settle ourselves, to hold to what we know as dear. Like poetry. Like blossoms.

Flocking Together

Sep 16, 2025 — We like to imagine our controversial reputation in that flock – the Jays arguing that this house is great because the apes offer peanuts; the Flickers countering that those apes suck because they won’t let you sleep in the house and come outside to shout if you bang on the soffit to try to get in.

The Practice of the Practice: Living Imperfection and Unconditional Love

Sep 10, 2025 — I watched over years as people showed up more or less – and consistently, at any level of participation, experienced growth and grace, found comfort, transformed. You taught me the practice isn’t about the practice. It's about how it affects our expression and experience of being human.

On Pendulation

Aug 27, 2025 — Pendulation weaves a tapestry of ways to care of ourselves, one another, and our communities in this time.

Dahlia Season

Aug 21, 2025 — I've never really gardened before and oh, I have so much to learn! I'm aiming myself at it with zest and irregularity, to be honest. I wanted to share that with you: my abject failure at growing dahlias this year.

Welcome Home

Aug 14, 2025 — We loved it so much that we set an alarm for 6 the next morning so that we could get in again before the final leg of our drive. We hoped that going so early would mean we'd be alone and could swim in skins instead of suits.

The Naturally Changing Self

Jul 24, 2025 — I deeply hope that the grace gen alpha are exploring around gender identity can support them in nonbinary thinking more widely, which would so clearly be medicine for the world.

Watching the Chickadee

Jul 9, 2025 — As we wove threads of meditation into our yoga class and she observed the busy thoughts in her mind, she came to think of them as being like the chickadees in the trees outside the temple, flitting about amongst the branches of her mind, chittering away.

My Friends Store Their Berries In My Belly

Jul 3, 2025 — My garden is made of the gardens of my friends, and oh my gosh, my friends and I are quite literally made of one another's gardens as we eat what grows and it becomes us. We are the life of the land, the life of the community. This interconnection is dizzying and utterly grounding.