Author: Michael Stevens

Walking through the high rise canyons of Portland, I am filled with awe and sadness. Humans have such a capacity to create beautiful tall buildings that house huge numbers of businesses and people. These...

As the sun angles steepen in late fall, colors of nature seems more vibrant. Junipers exhibit bark that appears redder than usual, a stark contrast to the gray-green field of rabbit brush and sage....

Entering a room, I scan for safety. Who do I know? Is there a defensible position, ie. a corner where I can control my space. Where’s the bathroom? Where are the exits? In times...

When meditation practice ripens and our attachment to the ego-self begins to erode, we wonder what its all about. All the meaning we have assigned to the appearance of external objects and how we...

As I mentioned previously, my mother sleeps most of the time now and is in hospice care. Sometimes she goes so deep into the bardo of sleep, I cannot rouse her. Today I visit with...

As I sit to quiet my mind, I watch thoughts form in my stream of awareness. I notice various textures and colors. One thought may have a charge of aggressive red energy and another...

My mother spends most of her time sleeping now as she lives her final moments. Sometimes she is so deep in the bardo of sleep she is difficult to arouse. When she momentarily awakens,...

The trail to Green Lakes is one of the busiest in the Central Oregon Cascades. One is lucky to find a parking spot near the trailhead. We decide to take a chance on this...

A very famous parable in Buddha’s teaching involves a stringed instrument called a veena. There are many variations of the story but the basic idea centers around the tautness of the strings. If they...

Fall colors indicate changing seasons and act as harbingers of hibernation: sap ceasing to flow, birds flying south, and some mammals looking for a place to den up for the winter. The natural world...