Author Natalie Goldberg discusses Zen and the writer’s practice.
Sitting still in the dark zendo and breathing with others is exactly what Natalie Goldberg needs. On this last night of the year, she wonders what this human life is all about.
Natalie Goldberg wanted to survive, but so did the cancer inside her. Drastic action was required.
Natalie Goldberg was awfully sick yet she was happy. Happiness is available to everyone, she realized, but we can find it only when we’re still.
Katherine was the sort of person who might suddenly ask, “How do you know love?” Natalie Goldberg recounts what she learned from this friend.
Sneezing, coughing, blowing her nose — NATALIE GOLDBERG was awfully sick yet she was happy. Happiness is available to everyone, she realized, but we can find it only when we’re still. Last summer I was sick in bed. I could write “flu” and be done with it, but that would be a generalization. My eyes […]
Natalie Goldberg finds herself hanging suspended between a Zen koan, an ailing hippo, and a “Who am I?” cry to greasy mechanics.
Effort and longing, frailties and aspirations—we’re in this together says Natalie Goldberg, and it is so much bigger than we are.
A season devoted to the koans of the ancient Chinese Masters gave Natalie Goldberg a taste for the stripped-down, naked truth of things.
Natalie Goldberg recalls a time when the bottom fell out of her life, when her place, purpose, and even her Zen practice seemed groundless. Was that a problem or the very point?