Sunday Best – July 5, 2026
The 250th celebration of the United States has me reflecting on the Bicentennial of my childhood, when our teenage neighbors painted their basement cinder blocks red, white, and blue, and my brother won a prize in our local parade for skateboarding in a tricorner hat and breeches. The downstairs light switch in our house displayed the preamble to the U.S. Constitution, and a giant bald eagle carving hung over the fireplace.
It would be easy to dismiss these images as nostalgic long-ago love of country, a faraway time never to be seen again. But this week, I got to sing “This Land is Your Land” along with thousands of other people. I saw a huge crowd lining up to see a reading of the Declaration of Independence, in 100-degree heat. I ate red, white, and blue desserts, multiple times.
Dear ones, the branches of our national tree might be bowed, and some could even break. Both our present and our past involve failures of ethics and empathy. But there’s a root layer beyond current storms, beyond any person or policy or period.
That root strength might surprise us all.
****
Here are two patriotic favorites from this past week’s browsing:
* This terrific NYT piece on the Statue of Liberty, with tons of context that was new to me. Carefully researched and beautifully written.
* This stunning government-funded media piece from the Bicentennial in 1976. It gives me no end of joy to know that content like this imprinted deeply on my little-kid mind.
Sunday Best – June 28, 2026
Summertime is full of delights, and it’s also full of chores. Returning home after a long voyage, the mountain of maintenance nearly overwhelmed me.
The invasive roses were soaring over my head. A lumpy brown creature had excavated a big pile of stones from under the porch. My sore knee was going click-clack with every step. Suffice to say, it was not a day of glorious one-ness with nature.
The sun set on my to-do list, without a single entry crossed off. And then, as a bright moon rose over the hill, I saw a glint in the brambles, the ones I had yet to clear. Then another. Then a full-blown spark, floating skyward. The fireflies had returned.
Friends, we will all have uphill days, with challenges far more daunting than yardwork.
May all of our brambles bring fireflies.
Sunday Best – June 21, 2026
The first time I met Dr. Robert Thurman he noted, You don’t have to renounce your current faith to learn from Buddhism. He then calmed the whole gathered group by laughingly declaring that if we fell asleep while mediating, no problem! Coming from one of the world’s leading experts on Tibetan Buddhism, this was great comfort indeed.
Years later, near the end of a journey to participate in the intensive Kalachakra ceremony with His Holiness the Dalai Lama, I mentioned that I was at the edge of a big professional decision. He gently shored up confidence in my own integrity, remarking, Well, I know you won’t sell out.
After a pause, he added, But be careful, don’t “piety out” either. Whatever it is, be in it. Don’t hold yourself separate.
What perfect, generous counsel.
What a wise, extraordinary teacher.
Highest intellectual rigor plus highest human compassion.
How lucky to have him in our midst.
Professor Thurman – Tenzin Bob – passed away on June 16.
Om gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha.
*****
There is no greater gift than to be blessed by our own loved ones. Father’s Day is complicated for many, and yet we have all been fathered in some way – by family and friends and teachers and coaches and books and music and rivers and mountains. I am one of the very lucky ones who has a dad who taught her how to change a flat tire and how to offer a proper handshake and how to navigate life with resilience and honor. If you have ever cared for anyone or anywhere or anything with this kind of devotion, thank you. Your love improves our world.
Sunday Best – June 13, 2026
Almost everything will work again
if you unplug it for a few minutes,
including you.
– Anne Lamott
Dear ones, I am unplugged this weekend.
Whether for a week or an hour or a single breath,
I wish for you the same.
Sunday Best – June 7, 2026
There’s a wonderful Japanese word, komorebi, that is usually translated as “dappled sunlight.” That seems accurate enough, but like a lot of translations, it’s not really complete. The characters for this word represent tree, sun, and to leak – trees leaking sunlight.
Yesterday I was reveling in the komorebi, and realized that just a few yards away, the remote forest pathway intersected with a busy road.
Friends, let’s get out of the car.
Let’s chase the words that are so beautiful they don’t quite translate.