Dheepa R. Maturi

. . . an ancient knowingness — that the raising and launching of another human being is an awe-inspiriting act and responsibility.

While I'm terrified at the harm it is wreaking, it has also cleared away much of my internal noise and nonsense.

Did I need this traditional aspect of my culture to be re-packaged and re-gifted by the western world in order for me to accept it?

Composed of gleaming pearls and diamonds, it sits in my line of sight whenever I write at my desk. Each jewel represents a failure.

When my son was seven years old, he left me notes. They were scrawled on multi-colored Post-it notes that he sneaked out of my desk drawers and then stuck to...

Those facts about Europe would have been accurate, yet I would have missed the truth.

I have both a heritage and a legacy. And I myself am the thread unfurling in both directions, connecting both.

To replicate the tradition, tourists on the island today write postcards to themselves and leave them in the box

a space for us to look at every bit of the life process, to stretch our minds to remember the ones who tend the earth

Why did I waste time banging on the door to my own integrity and knowingness when I held the key in my hand all the while?

A thousand tiny needles relentlessly pierced my skin over the course of what seemed like hours. After climbing back onto the Zodiac raft and dumping our snor...