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No Dogma, Just Drip: Brewing My Buddhist Confusion
I keep reading that Buddhism is not a religion. “No dogma! No deity! Just a way of life!” the books say. And yet, every time I pick up another book on Buddhism—Why I Am Not a Buddhist, Why I Am a Buddhist, Why Buddhism Is True, Living Is Dying—I feel like I’m sitting in a coffee shop where everyone is…
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What If Christianity Were True?
☕ A Quiet Meditation Over Coffee Sit with me a moment. Breathe. Let’s imagine… What if Christianity were true? Not believed to be true. Not argued to be true. But known. ☕ The Day Faith Took a Bow Picture it:A cave.A clay jar.Inside it are scrolls with Jesus’ own handwriting. No debates. No scholars arguing over Greek verbs. No “Well,…
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Losing My Religion
I once believed in my religion. My religion had many laws, Commanded by God himself. All chiseled into stone by His own hand. My religion said I only needed to Believe. But Jesus said that we must love our enemies, And to treat others how we would like to be treated. Loving my enemies… is…
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Mysterious Ways
This haiku stands quietly in the space between question and excuse. The phrase “mysterious ways” is a soft curtain drawn when silence falls from the heavens. Silence is its own teacher in Zen, but it feels like evasion here. The poem invites a gentle smile, not of mockery, but recognition: we all seek patterns in the sky when prayers echo…
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Water Into Wine
This haiku floats between celebration and sacrifice. At first, the miracle is simple—a kindness, a moment of presence. But the juice darkens. The wine becomes a symbol, heavy with meaning. What begins as laughter ends in ritual. Is it still wine? Or something else? The haiku does not answer. It only watches. water into wine jesus’ magical juice bloody, bloody…
