Family

Buddhist teachings on family life
  • 10 Steps to a Mindful Wedding Paid Member

    On July 25th my fiancée, Courtney, and I got married. It was truly incredible, partly because now I never have to say the word fiancée again. While other people said girlfriend or boyfriend, husband or wife, for 14 months we used this flowery French term that made it sound like we were constantly one-upping everyone. “Oh, you got married in a hotel? My fiancée and I are getting married in a barn in Vermont.” Even the mundane began to sound pretentious: “My fiancée and I had cereal for breakfast.” (And of course we used Dom Perignon instead of milk.) More »
  • The Disrobed Monk Who Provides Safe Haven to 85 Children Paid Member

    Lobsang Phuntsok, founder of the Jhamtse Gatsal community, with Tashi For years, Lobsang Phuntsok, a Tibetan Buddhist monk, dreamed of creating a safe haven for unwanted children in Arunachal Pradesh, the remote Himalayan region where he was born in 1971. Now Jhamtse Gatsal—Tibetan for Garden of Love and Compassion—is home to 85 children age 5 to 15, rescued from poverty, abuse, and neglect. Under Lobsang’s fatherly care, they are thriving in a family environment that offers love, compassion, and a first-rate education. More »
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    A Flash of Insight Paid Member

    Therigatha: Poems of the First Buddhist Women Translated by Charles HalliseyHarvard University Press, 2015336 pp.;$29.95 (Cloth)  More »
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    Envidia Paid Member

    They had warned me about the bedsheets. More »
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    Someone Is Jealous of You Paid Member

    The Golden Girl—that’s what my sister and I called the most popular girl in our town. We’d become very jealous of her on account of her many admirers, one of whom was our very own father. We pained to hear him praise her beauty, talent, and intelligence, wondering to ourselves, “Dad, does that mean you’re embarrassed by your daughters for being ugly, unskilled, and stupid?” More »
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    My Father's True Nature Paid Member

    Dad’s on the left. My father was in the army of occupation in Japan from 1946 to 1947. The only reason I knew this was because he kept his green fatigue jacket hanging in the closet with its 8th Cavalry insignia and private’s stripe. I’d take it down from time to time and put it on, but it was like trying to wear a tent (still would be; he was a half-foot taller than me). He never said anything about those years. It felt to me like a forbidden topic, as if something shameful had happened there, as it had for so many veterans. But he was not a combat soldier, and he spent most of his time in Japan on one base or another (first in Tokyo, then near Mount Fuji) lying in his “sack.” So it wasn’t silence due to PTSD. More »