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Life as a Kilkhor

Most dreams disappear upon waking; some dreams inform you for as long as your soul has you live the dream out; and other dreams last a lifetime.


These dreams and our imagination

is a kilkhor, instilled with prayer

and healing, breath, vision and beauty


The Buddhist sand mandala is a blueprint for our imaginations, for our dreams. It is the manifestation of prayer to make beauty of our lives. It is a circle with protecting walls and the temple within which contains life itself.


This is the kilkhor


Buddhist monks devotedly and skillfully create the kilkhor, imbuing it with chants and prayers as they rhythmically pour the fine colored efficacious sand grains into patterns. 

I've adopted the kilkhor as a metaphor to help me manage the unimagined changes of a dream that is being swept down the river. Thirty years ago I dreamed, then imagined, and then followed the dream to build an intentional community where I led ceremonies, rituals and healing for our people. I thought this would be my forever home, community and life style.


Just as life circles around the great universe,

the time has come for this dream to end


And, just as the kilkhor is swept away and poured into the river, so I face impermanence. It's a certain death and all the while, as it is dismantled, the prayers and songs, the beautiful ceremonies held within the creation of this kilkhor of life, goes back to Grandmother Ocean. Rain comes once again, this time to purify that which has died while soft beauty falls upon the land.


Nothing is lost, nothing is gained

it simply is a beautiful life


Patiently, I await a message from heart to reveal the new dream when enchantment will intrigue a new cycle. I’ve earned the cycle of "elder hood." Just as the kilkhor, it takes a long time to create beauty. I’ve learned to hold life lightly, knowing impermanence is a part of life, revealed again and again and again as each cycle completes.


Do not grasp but gracefully and lovingly sweep it all away and pour the many-colored prayers into the river. There, those dreams and prayers rush to Grandmother Ocean. That’s how it is. This is the cycle of life.  To let it go…well, that’s what it takes to heal.


Always with Love,



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