Fourteen years ago, just weeks after becoming a new mother, I wandered into a “Meditation 101” class at a Buddhist center in New York City. I was a wreck.  My body was buzzing from sleep deprivation, and my mind was headed straight into an existential crisis over what was becoming of my life as I […]

In the days before class, I found myself going through all of my possessions, clutching photos of family, friends and places, wishing the teacher had asked for 10 things instead of 5. But being the ever-dutiful student, here are the 5 I came up with…

I picked up a canvas with Banksy’s beat up Buddha and wondered what the kids would make of it. So I plunked down 25 pounds and bought it. The first thing I did when I got home was pound a nail into the empty wall…

If you can spare 15 minutes, take a look at this beautiful video about the organization founded by my teachers — the Zen Center for Contemplative Care.

Like unexpected money found in last season’s coat pocket, I discovered a scrap of paper in my wallet this morning. It’s a quote I must have torn out of a magazine and tucked away for a rainy day, by Charlotte Joko Beck. On this gray day that’s neither winter nor spring, when my mood seems to match the weather, I’m glad to have found it…

The nine contemplations on death come from an 11th century Buddhist scholar. They are meant to help us explore the inevitability of death. This week, I’m trying an experiment in which I read the 9 contemplations to myself before I sit for ten minutes of quiet reflection.

Tonight begins my “Year to Live” journey. Twenty-five of us are assembled in an open loft space in SoHo, sitting on black plastic folding chairs, facing the front of the room.