Margoshka and the Infinite Process

This essay was originally published on The Under 35 Project under the title Heartbreak and Revolution.  A version of this piece appears in the January 2013 edition of Shambhala Sun Magazine.

It’s a windy October Wednesday afternoon and I am heading down to Liberty Plaza to meditate at the Occupation of Wall St.  My heart is bruised, raw… I feel an ache in the center of my chest, a lump in the back of my throat that I can’t swallow away.  It hurts and it hurts and it hurts.  The one I loved and trusted has kicked me to the curb.  There were words.

“This is not working for me, and please don’t take it personally.”

Ouch.  This silly heart, she breaks so easily.  I should be used to it.  How many times have I nursed this frivolous risk-taker of a heart this year?  Four times?  Five? « Read the rest of this entry »