On Breakdowns and Books

In the autumn of 2017, I fell into myself. Humbly returning to my center with a flag of defeat dragging behind me like a party streamer after a summer storm. Collapse was inevitable. I had sought myself — and a home — all over the globe and in others for far too long. I became acutely aware of how much of myself I had pinned to the scaffolding of others as it came crumbling down. I sat for days in a borrowed meditation…