Harm of one is harm of all.

In our lives, people sometimes do us wrong.

North, South, East, and West, Angel, visible, ahead of me, Angels hidden by forests around me, And everywhere God....

It's an impulse of the human self to be known fully, and that’s almost never possible unless we risk the conversations that help us see past our initial impressions.

Empathy isn’t just something that happens to us—a meteor shower of synapses firing across the brain—it’s also a choice we make: to pay attention, to extend ourselves. It’s made of exertion, that dowdier cousin of impulse. Sometimes we care for another because we know we should or because...

Spirit of my longing and lonely heart, help me travel through the barren borderlands that separate me from others. Teach me to willingly explore relationships with those who frighten or threaten me, grant me the courage to risk confidently my own comforts, that I might make others more comfortable.

Once upon a time, a thief snuck into the room of a sleeping Buddhist monk. As the burglar rummaged about, the monk awoke. The startled thief ran into the snowy streets with the monk racing after him, "Please stop!" the monk called, and the man finally did, realizing that his pursuer was no threat.