Solstice: The Longest Day, the Smallest Practice
A short note for the day the year tilts back toward the dark.
TAG
A short note for the day the year tilts back toward the dark.
Not all of them. Just one. The change is more than you would think.
A small instruction.
An anniversary note. A year of small letters, slow walks, and a quiet writing room.
A republished Sunday Stillness letter, from the first warm Sunday of spring.
An old story, retold without the religious ending, about a small choice in a small night.
A short note on the strange last weeks of the year.
A small year-end exercise for the people who keep saying the year went too fast.
A small autumn practice.
An attempt to put into words the truth that makes everything more precious, not less.
Not affirmations. Not slogans. Three quiet things I have come back to for years.
The cheapest, oldest, most reliable mindfulness practice — and you do it three times a day.
A story from Ajahn Chah, the Thai forest monk, about the cup on his table.
A small note on the moment between sleep and the day.