I encouraged my students to question authority, especially my authority, because only rarely can we recognize our biases without help.

We must unstick our minds if we want to bring change into the world.

Impermanence, mortality, ashes, dust: this is the truth of being human.

It's hard to feel gratitude for something when you're focusing on what’s wrong with it.

Outside of the meditation hall, we plan for the future and think of the past. But so often we replay past regrets and worry about future events to the point where we’re no longer present in the present.

Once I quit drinking, my inner voice and I began the harder work: that of creating a life from which I do not need or want to escape.

It's an impulse of the human self to be known fully, and that’s almost never possible unless we risk the conversations that help us see past our initial impressions.

If a friend were in my situation, I would have seen their failings as human. So why hold someone to an unforgiving standard just because that someone is me?

In the moment that I switched to “teacher mode,” I recalled moments in which I had inadvertently said ungracious things. I was fortunate enough to have professors, ministers, and friends illuminate my clumsiness for me. They did so in a way that was gracious enough that it increased my appreciation and respect for them, and clear enough that I will never forget the teaching.

I long for progressive religious communities that are confessing communities—places where we admit our wrongdoings, are held accountable, and called back into covenant.

“Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise.” —Alice Walker I had finally begun to relax—a bit. We were en route to Pennsylvania. My friend, a formal part of our “framily,” was visiting. We decided a visit to a crayon factory was the perfect winter outing for toddlers. The day was clear...