A woman in Belarus said that to me one day. I love the idea. We are able to change. There is no limit to what we can do. Because beneath all our attachments, we are as full of bliss as a blue sky is full of space.

I begin here with a story about the General. And then I go on to talk about the idea of change. How we are capable of changing. Me; I'm trying to learn a bit of Irish. It's. a new year resolution. What about you? Maybe the new year is a good time to think of what you're capable of. 

The picture was taken in Mongolia with the Panchen Otrul Rinpoche. I told him I was never on a horse before. So he said, get up on this one now. And so I did. But mind you, it was a very small horse. Poor creature, having to put up with me.

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Talking to a tree, and the cosmic mammy, and remembering that the ultimate teaching is that there is no teaching.

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This is a special and personal note on the marvels of the candle. it's so simple to light one. Sit. And everything else will follow. Everything else will be given to you. Just open the door.

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Nollaig na mBan is over and light returns. Join me on the next phase of the podcast. Take Vitamin D, do nothing, and enjoy a tiny anecdote about how I met a little hippy commune in Dublin long ago when I was 18 years of age. 

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I love snow. I love the poetry of Irina Ratushinskaya. I love the idea of a hidden world.  Today I'm reflecting on what the Christmas story means to me and how from a Buddhist perspective there is a single idea that crosses over. The picture I chose for this podcast is a photograph of Irina, a woman I never met, but whose life inspires me, and whose poetry gladdens me every time I read it.

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Yes, but it's still Christmas. There are 12 days and I hope you enjoy every single one.

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Nothing more to say but have a lovely happy Christmas Day and a restful holiday. We'll talk again very soon. 

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Talking about podcasting, and a woman I met on the way to Galway.

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That long journey into midwinter has just ended. And this evening is the first sunset after the Solstice. The time when the sun stands still.  Here's a remembrance of Mullingar and the journey since then and how hard times makes us stronger. I belong to the poetry of the solstice, the dying sun, the fear that darkness will overpower us and faith in the light. A light shining in the dark that will not be quenched. I cling to that. the myth is the shape of my faith. I'm so excited that it's Christmas. And that I have permission to hope. 

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