A random conversation about the Buddha and quantum physics on the slopes of Cho Oyu sparked thoughts about rigidity of faith 23 years ago, which continue to this day.

A small fence in a forgotten cemetery in rural Tennessee is a metaphor for the fences we love to build in our country and our society, and succeed not in keeping us safe, but in tearing us apart.

Perfection is a utopian fallacy, and the path out of our current abyss resides in our ability to look in the mirror and make amends for what we see in the reflection.

In this time of trouble and division, my mind is fogged, the path unclear. The only clarity I have is that we need more love.