Sangha News

That Awe of Being Alive

November 30th, 2024

Spring has arrived in Brazil and with it, a new retreat with Swaha.

The Voice of Love

September 30th, 2024

First, there are just questions, and things. Now it’s just poetry. That’s how it goes.

Where did you put your shoes?

September 13th, 2024

Zen – Inner Balance
Dharma Mountain
August 2024

Becoming available

July 15th, 2024

How to bring that which cannot be talked about into words? Impossible.But Kabir’s words hint at it: “If anyone needs a head, the lover, the disciple, leaps up and offers his.”Only when you get rid of your identification with the mind (the head), can you function out of intelligence. Because
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Kids Retreat

May 11th, 2024

The children took over Mevlana Garden! In a retreat just for them, prepared with much love, dedication, and the longing to share a bit of what we live at the feet of the Master. For two days, the Beloved’s Garden was taken by the joy, innocence, fun, sweetness and intensity
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The Master and the Hammer Frog

April 15th, 2024

When the laughter has stopped and the tears have dried,when the courageous ones have looked honestly at themselves,when the drama of this life has played out and the curtain falls, when the dreams have been dreamt and our hearts have come home,when the only desire is for peace and love.
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Jasmine in November

December 5th, 2023

How can the scent of jasmine in Novemberbe described – even with a thousand images?Or the warmth of the sun on our faces, after the long heavy rain? How can this living silence which fills usbe expressed – even with a thousand words? How can the gratitude in our hearts
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The mystery lives

July 24th, 2023

The rain drums, as I sit asking myself who I am.The temple roof emptying again and again in splashesjust as the Masters speak about emptying out all that I know. Who am I?The rain pours onto the forest floor, and the sound of the river grows louder, roaring,until I don’t
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The buttercup close

July 2nd, 2023

I had forgotten to hold the buttercup closeand let its bright yellow reflect on my chin. I had forgotten to let the soft willow leavespass slowly through my handsand to let the wind caress my neck for no gain nor reason. I had forgotten to hear the little robin’s calland
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