Under the Banyan Tree

I recently attended a gala at the San Jose Museum of Art and wandered the building's rooms, spacious and stark, with my gold champagne in hand (until asked to please refrain from taking refreshments into the galleries -- should have known), absorbing black and white self-portraits from the current exhibit, "This is Not a Selfie." Sometimes I looked into the photos, sometimes beyond them at the white walls nearly glowing in what seemed to be florescent light. I felt at once voyeur and student before the images. I was learning, watching, reflecting. The images in the photos ranged in size. Some subjects were practically absent from the frames, their bodies out of focus and faces barely visible. Others posed boldly or demurely, allowing the camera to capture their physical being in its entirety, surrounded by light or objects or loved ones. Each representation differed from the others in more than size or focus. They were unique and strong and provocative and, sometimes, s

I'm not a religious person but I do spend ample time ruminating on the spiritual, the unseen. I read books on everything from Viking myths to Buddhism to quantum physics. My husband thinks if our marriage were a high school, I'd be the one voted most likely to join a cult. But he's wrong. I might be most likely to be disillusioned or to search longer than most, but I wouldn't join an actual cult. I'm not great at blindly following. And I don't even like Kool Aid. I do like to question things. I'm not sure what I’m searching for, really, or why I continue but I just can't stop. I attribute much of this to residual religious teachings from my childhood. Or maybe it's more than that -- a sense that 21 st century humans  can't possibly comprehend more than a sliver of the universe. Modern science theorizes, discovers, alters postulations and theorizes again. But the enormity of what we're theorizing about is unfathomable. And the infinite p

We've all heard it before. And we've rarely believed it. Your friend, lifting her shoulders and cocking her head slightly to the right, declares, This experience changed my life!  You hug your friend and say that's fantastic .And you want to believe her, and you even do for a while. And then. . .  inevitably, weeks pass, months pass, and maybe even years pass. And nothing changes. Your friend wasn't crazy or disingenuous; she simply wasn't ready. It happens. . . because a life won't be altered unless the person living it is prepared. I was more than prepared when my life-changing experience occurred (it changed me, I swear!). Like an aspiring film star who spends years smiling half-heartedly through gigs of pet food commercials and two minute soap opera spots knowing he can't accept those jobs forever but unable to break into movies. Until a practically cosmic event occurs. He sees something. Or meets someone.  Or feels a jolt of urgency and possibi