Author: Michael Stevens

It is 7 am on Sunday. The crisp cool morning air belies yesterday’s excessive heat. Birds are batting their wings and pollinators begin to buzz about our wildflower garden. The freshness in the air...

I dream that I am teaching as usual at the Dharma Center and the atmosphere is quite somber. Those present in body and the folks joining via Zoom are like plastic figures. The scene...

12,000 foot Mt. Mazama, Giiwas in the indigenous Klamath language, erupted about 7,700 years ago. The activity ejected material outward from volcanic vents deep inside the lower portions of the mountain. The resulting void...

I did not know badgers could run so fast. Of course, having never seen a badger running, how would I know? This one padded through the forest like it was on a mission, the...

We just concluded a study of the text, “Waking Up from the Slumber of Ignorance,” when a flash of lightning brightened the sky outside our Dharma Center. As I drove home, I witnessed a...

Living in this moment we call a human body can be very challenging. With all the delights of sensory awareness, the physical vehicle can also feel wondrous discomfort. I am currently in the ‘shingles...

On the Metolius River … The wind rises and swirls through the trees, causing them to sway like giant arms waving and reaching toward the heavens. This invisible energy whispers divine lessons one cannot...

The other day I met at a cafe, in person, with a friend for tea/coffee. It was the first time in over a year. I have to say it felt a bit weird—in a...

My mother-in-law, Kitty (short for Katharine), passed away last Friday. Another life ends. Another life begins. One incarnation makes way for another. Those of us left behind will begin to live without Kitty, so...

The subtle wisdom of the desert speaks only to those who are willing to look beyond the obvious. Here at the Painted Hills, the obvious is the colorful multilayered hills. If one does not...