In my early twenties I lived at the Findhorn Foundation, an educational center in the north of Scotland. Each December community members gathered to place their names in a hat for a game of “Angels and Mortals.” We each secretly drew one name from the hat, and that...
During a recent meditation retreat I walked slowly, my feet sinking into the gravel on the moonlit path that circled the retreat center’s outer courtyard. I had come to deepen my ability to be with people in their dying process. That afternoon I’d been asked to...
