My Little Golden Book of Phobias

I flew off, or rather clacked off to Portland yesterday to sit with Sandy, who is dying. Her beautiful bald head. Her beautiful hands on either side of her face. Barely breathing. Her elderly mother watching her daughter die. 

May all beings be loved. May all beings be at peace. Sandy, sweetheart, goodbye.

Atta dipa

Viharatha

Atta sharana

Ananna dharana

Dhamma dipa

Dhamma sharana

Ananna sharana

Dwell

With yourself as light

With yourself as refuge

With no other refuge

With the dharma as light

With the dharma as refuge

With no other refuge