I remember getting my first cell phone in New York, getting into a taxi and thinking "This is the end of solitude in the back of a taxi." What used to happen in the back of a taxi? You looked out the window. My brain has become less able to spend lengths of time without shifting, and I worry about that.

I've always felt like my nose is pressed to glass. I always feel a little bit like an outsider.

I don't want to lean back into the past, or forward into the future. I don't want to wish the present moment away.

Part of my spiritual work is learning to live with the knowledge that we can't protect our loved ones from pain and heartache.

You can start your day over anytime.

There's something about urban life - you walk out your door, and you're in a steady of stream of life happening around you, and it's very easy to get caught up in that stream and simply kind of keep on moving.

If we grew up with nothing, we're complicated with that. That's the thing I keep hearing from people.