A Parabola Bestiary: The Cow, by Pamela Travers

Remembering the sacred mother animal

Walking the Maze, by Pamela Travers

The way in, the way out

Remembering, by Pamela Travers

A Hebrew Myth, a potent element in the annals of the bees, tells us that when a child is born an angel takes it under his wing and recites the Torah to it. Having done that he puts his forefinger on the infant lip and says one word, “Forget!” Clearly, every tradition has a similar…

On Unknowing, by Pamela Travers

It is not ignorance. Rather, one could say, a particular process of cognition that has little or no use for words. It is part of our heritage at birth, the infant’s first primer. And the young child lives by it, gathering into its growing body and aboriginal heart a cosmography of wonder. “The corn was…

Zen Moments, by Pamela Travers

We sit on our heels on the tatami, the Japanese woman and myself, telling the stories of our lives. One can do this with a stranger. Too near, and the perspective is lost. Only the far can be near. A sound–a knock, intimation only–had come from the inner door. And there she was in her…