Halfway up the mountain I discovered love. I don’t mean that I fell in love. More like I fell into love. I’d been fighting off a fever for a few days. And for greater background, I was in South Africa, where I’d been hired to write a guidebook to South Africa . The year was 1993, just as Apartheid […]
HALFWAY UP THE MOUNTAIN – Blog by Rupert Isaacson Read More »
“God Rupert you’re so ego-defended!“ The comment stopped me in my tracks, I looked at my girlfriend in confusion, wondering what she meant. Ego-defended. I hadn’t heard the term before. “What do you mean?” “Why are you so invested in being right?” It was a good question. Good enough that – even in mid lover’s spat – the question staunched the flow
THE CAVE OF BRAHMA – Blog by Rupert Isaacson Read More »
For a time, about two years – I began to wake up each morning with fists clenched tight. Not just clenched but the tendons in the lower part of the hands, between the fourth and the little fingers, hurting so much that my first feeling upon waking was pain. OK, it was a stressful time.
The River of the Hand – a tale of everyday healing Read More »
No one forgets their first piaffe. Or, as the French, who invented the term, would say, their first piaffer; to strut. It’s riding the volcano before it erupts; in nature a stallions piaffes to display before a potential mate, and to gather himself before mounting her. When playing or fighting, horses of either sex piaffe
It seemed to go on forever: the regimented trunks, line after ghostly line of them – stretching out into the gloom like the pillars of some vast, twilit cathedral. Tramping the miles between them, the ground seemed hard underfoot, rutted, difficult to walk on. The great trunks, impressive though they were, seemed oppressive, their great
THE FOREST OF THE MIND Read More »
