On the phone, at a gas station, in our dreams
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I like to dabble in truth. I once chased after an Indian guru. Then I became a minister. Now I dabble daily in the lives of others. Occasionally, amidst immense confusion, I run across a nugget of gold. Like when I read Michael Ventura’s essay “An Inventory of Timelessness” [July 1994]. It knocked my socks off. It set me dancing in a field of moss and singing on the mountaintops. Thanks for printing it.