Kiran Joshi

It is 2 am. ` And I am wide awake. The only other creature awake seems to be the daddy longlegs. The house is silent. There is nowhere left to hide from my own thoughts. Almost without thinking, I find myself chanting the Japanese phrase that translates to: "I am the heir of my own karma." Another teaching from an Indian saint enters my mind: "Feed Everyone. Love Everyone."* Such simple words. Only four words. Yet they feel impossibly large. Could I truly feed everyone? Perha

Messy house, weeds grow in the front yard, A soul sleeps on the roadside with few belongings—Perspective shifts, peace. Aching leg, I...