Turtles, Trees, and the Spiral of Time

I’ve always pictured time as a line, with me an unchanging dot moving from moment to moment from birth on one end to death at the other. I have an almost visceral reaction to thinking of time, and myself within it, like this. In this model, I am static. The dot...

Letters to the Wounded, From the Wounded

(This is the seventh part in a series. Click the links to read the rest of the series: One – Going Back to the Beginning,  Two – Stuck Between Two Horses, Three – The Wrong God, Four – Stepping Stones and a Crossroads, Five – Of...