In Buddhism, everything is connected. I had a teacher once ask, in a workshop, how my breath was distinguishable from someone else’s. Another learner asked where ‘I’ began, and ‘other’ ended. Or vice-versa. And the truth is? Even science isn’t really sure. If my breath commingles with yours (the Arabs have a saying for close…

The scab is off, and the wound of America’s history is bleeding. Again. Perhaps because a black man is president…? It’s a savage old wound, never really healed, and apt to erupt into pestilence at any moment. Medical terminology comes to mind: suppurating, necrotic, septic. In other words — it eats away at the flesh of…

One of my sons just sent me a comic. This happens more often than you might think with my family, especially my younger son & his cousins. I always enjoy the comics; they’re full of colour and meaning and usually a moral. In many ways, comics are the new fables. From the Sandman to the…

Most of the time, I’m very happy being me. I have a pretty wonderful life: my beloved is damn near perfect (he even does BOTH our insurances & taxes!). As are my sons, my DIL, my grandson (possibly the most perfect of all…). My sisters are my best friends; my nieces are amazing; my nephews…

Britton Gildersleeve
about

Britton Gildersleeve

Britton Gildersleeve is a 'third culture kid.' Years spent living on the margins - in places with exotic names and food shortages - have left her with a visceral response to folks ‘without,’ as well as a desire to live her Buddhism in an engaged fashion. She’s a writer and a teacher, the former director of a federal non-profit for teachers who write. She believes that if we talk to each other, we can learn to love each other (but she's still learning how). And she believes in tea. She is (still) working on her beginner's heart ~

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