because motives matter
It's 7:30 in the morning in Makiabari, the small mountain village in the Darjeeling area where we have arranged home stays. It is a hazy morning—the clouds have not yet lifted. But you can start to see the surrounding valleys and ridges. I have heard the sounds of a community coming to life since 6,… Continue reading Letters from Bharat: morning in the mountains
We Americans, we love our tasks. But they love each other, in a way that pushes the clock out of the foreground.
In Mumbia one is immediately struck by the contrasts. Either that or the chaotic traffic, with the constant honking of horns and a sense that lanes don't exist as rickshaws, buses, cabs and private cars push into any available space. Or the strange, powerful smells—incense burning at shrines on the sidewalk, smog always on high… Continue reading Letters from Bharat: Mumbia
What I can teach is to withhold judgment, pay more attention, extend grace. And I can be changed.
Even in its most secular manifestations, Christmas reminds us that there is something more. It is is indeed a Holy Day.
the daysman 