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Enseignante Zen et poète, Sensei Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell est née et a grandi à Minneapolis, aux Etats-Unis. Arrivée en France en 1981 pour étudier la littérature et l’histoire, elle y est restée, s’installant à Paris, où elle élève ses deux enfants et gagne sa vie en tant que journaliste. The Zen teacher and poet Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell Sensei was born and raised in Minneapolis, but came to France in 1981 to study literature and history and has lived in Paris ever since, raising her two children and making a living as a journalist.

avril 2012

Coming soon to a life near you

By | 2015-10-02T15:40:08+00:00 avril 5th, 2012|Textes|

So it's been a long while since I last wrote here. And I've certainly given thought to what I might post, and then I've not done it. When I start writing again, like now, I wonder why I haven't written before. I love it so! Now preparing to leave on retreat for a week with [...]

mars 2012

In cold blood in the schoolyard

By | 2015-10-02T15:40:26+00:00 mars 20th, 2012|Textes|

Words seem flat when small children are murdered in cold blood as they were in France yesterday. I'm not sure I even know what such an act means. Except that to kill and harm, I would have to separate myself from the other and focus only on the differences. And whatever was different from me [...]

So much depends on a pair of red-handled scissors

By | 2015-10-02T15:40:49+00:00 mars 18th, 2012|Textes|

What could be noted here tonight? Perhaps that is the most worthy note: a question that incites me to look, to listen, to open my heart to the infinite possibilities right here at my desk at this very hour, Sunday drifting nonchalantly toward Monday, a drizzle outside, me thinking of heading off to bed. A [...]

Consuming yoga?

By | 2015-10-02T15:43:30+00:00 mars 13th, 2012|Textes|

Ever since an article appeared on the sports pages in the newspaper last week about Americans turning yoga into a competitive sport (even hoping to bring it to the Olympics as a medal event!), I am at a loss for words. Although I don't practice yoga, I have rarely heard of something so absurd as [...]

An ongoing question

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:15+00:00 mars 7th, 2012|Textes|

When you stop to consider all the "current events" that capture our attention every day, it seems impossible to settle on one, to select a moment, an event, a person, an issue, worth singling out from the rest. Is the ongoing slaughter in Syria more "captivating" than a presidential debate in France, Greece's ongoing economic [...]

A dead poet lives

By | 2015-10-02T15:44:13+00:00 mars 4th, 2012|Textes|

More engagement with the "past" again today: particpated in a tribute reading following the death of an American poet who had been a pillar of the Anglophone poetry scene in Paris. Poets of all sorts came together to honor John, his work and his support for many of us. Saw many people I haven't seen [...]

The times of our lives

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:15+00:00 mars 3rd, 2012|Textes|

Spend much of the day with old photographs, in response to a request for pictures to build an archive of Dana, my teacher's sangha, my own original heart sangha. Each image stirs an association with people, places, times, lives. Sometimes there is a tug of wistful regret for what and who is "gone," nostalgia for [...]

février 2012

In the movement

By | 2015-10-02T15:44:43+00:00 février 28th, 2012|Textes|

I was sweeping through the events of the day, big and small, when I recevied an email message from someone who had recently lost a dear sibling. It felt like the world's axis had shifted, she said, with everything different yet still just going on. When I stopped reading for a second and looked up [...]