Winter moves in without warning. Overnight she flings her frosty veil of silver and gray over the mountains with a vengeance, as if to say, “I’ve arrived.”
It’s still a struggle to me, settling into lay life at my childhood home. I’d only left the monastery this past early spring, and I’ve been on the road ever since. First, I chased a wild horse in the Four Sisters Mountains, then rode to Lhasa on pilgrimage. The community of monastic life, the daily routine of prayer, and my study and work too have fallen away. It’s up to me now to forge my own way in this mundane world, with my Buddhist practice at the core.
My body eases into the idle rhythm of lay life, taking no objections to naps in the afternoon, or lazing about at the horses. It takes all my strength to not let my mind fall in
