Blackmail, blacklist, black mark. Black Monday, black mood, black-hearted. Black plague, black mass, black market. Good guys wear white, bad guys wear black. We fear black cats, and the Dark Continent. But it’s okay to tell a white lie, lily-white hands are coveted, it’s great to be pure as the...

Spirit of Life, Ground of our being, Root of unified mystery Growing into myriad branches of expression, Bring us together now....

The first stop on U.S. soil after a deployment is the airport. From there, it’s all downhill until you get to see your family and loved ones again. But the airport is its own scene when you’re a soldier in uniform. On my trip home, I’m reminded of the last time I was in the airport—returning...

As I ride through Kandahar City’s Sub-District 9, I see a naked dust-covered kid playing along the road. That is not the strangest thing. But when he picks up a large rock and hurls it at the truck, I wonder aloud, “What the hell? Who lets their kid run around naked throwing rocks? What kind of...

I lean back in the chair and exhale a long breath of thick white cigar smoke into the night sky. It rises upward, swirls in a light breeze, and disappears. I think to myself, “Damn this is a good cigar, a good night, and a good place to be for these few moments.” Earlier today, I walked through...

I have purchased a set of Islamic prayer beads from one of our local shop owners. The set has ninety-nine beads, one for each of the names of God in Islam....

My son has sent me a “Build-A-Bear.” Dressed in the latest digital camouflage ACUs.* (Build-A-Bear hasn’t yet caught up with multicam.) It came with a note in my eight-year-old’s handwriting: “Press left paw for I love you and I miss you.” Sure enough, when I press the left paw, my...

I sit alone, planning the rest of the day. Last night, I was joking and smoking, in broken Pashto, with the resident contingent of the AUP.* I introduced them to the beauty of Dominican tobacco, hand-rolled and perfectly aged. They all seemed to enjoy this symbol of Western democratic values, the...

“You sargin or commandant?” a young Afghan lieutenant asks as he points to the cross on my chest. I try to explain what a chaplain is. In the end, he suggests Army mullah, and I agree. Not the most accurate description, but the most meaningful for him. Chaplain has little meaning for him.