Astro Fonda

I had two hours left until my next class, Awareness Training. That day, it was my turn to sing in front of the whole class to receive feedback from my classmates and BL, the teacher. During those two hours, I had planned to exercise, eat, and warm up my voice, but I was unable to […]

Let’s open a can of worms: death. Death is a mystery, there is no doubt about that. And what do we humans do when faced with mystery? We use language to have something manageable with which to approach the infinite. We create symbols and stories that allow us to relate to that mystery. These stories

Sorry for the delay of this letter. It must have gotten lost in the mail or something. The truth is that on Friday, I spent the entire day in a feverish creative state, working simultaneously on a composition, a graphic design project, and another letter. I reached a point of such exhaustion and frustration that

“Miracles are both beginnings and endings, and so they alter the temporal order. ²They are always affirmations of rebirth, which seem to go back but really go forward. ³They undo the past in the present, and thus release the future. Miracles bear witness to truth.” – A Course In Miracles, Chapter 1 On April 20th,

“The first gulp from the glass of natural sciences will turn you into an atheist, but at the bottom of the glass God is waiting for you.” – Werner Heisenberg, father of quantum physics When I was a child, I wanted to be an astronaut. I remember many summer nights when my grandfather, my cousins,

Blank page. No fear. The rain hanging like crystal earrings on the slender branches of Serefé. The sound of traffic on wet asphalt. The search for the truest sentence I can find right now. I think it is this: I doubt my own existence more than the existence of God. Considering that something exists, that

This week, many good things have happened. Two new plants have arrived at my house. I’ve named the small one Little Green (after the Joni Mitchell song I’m learning) and the large one, Ajax. I also have a new roommate, a large insect that has been camping on my window for several days. I haven’t

In front of my house, there’s a tree that stands five stories tall. I live on the fourth, so I live in conversation with its branches. I’ve named it Serefé, which is the word Turks use when toasting. Serefé! Today I went to say hi; it had been a while. Its trunk, damp from the

We were sitting at a round glass table. It was a summer night. The stars sang like crickets and there wasn’t a hint of wind. Boys and girls in a circle, wearing colorful garlands and colorful faces painted with white, blue, green, and orange. Someone read a poem, and the rest of us painted it.

“The presence of God is experienced by everyone at all times. It’s just that we don’t recognize what it is.” David R. Hawkins, M.D., Ph.D. On the last day before heading to Chicago, I met up with my dear J, and we lay down looking at a pale gray sky, the final glow of the