or: I didn’t sprout out of the ground a Buddhist feminist.

I was raised in Southeast Ohio on a defunct dairy farm. We had chickens, sometimes owls, a few dogs, and a stray cat named Generic (he was black and white, IYKYK).

I had a teacher, my choir director, who, through exposure to music and art, showed me a world beyond my tiny town, and that I could be a part of it – was worthy to be a part of it. I didn’t really have a social life, save for three friends who I now realize only put up with me at school because they had no choice. I was a weird kid. I drove my mother insane asking to go to the library every day, read OMNI magazine, and watched Nature and Nova on Sundays. I read acceptable things at home and kept the books I thought my mother would get angry at, at the library.

When I got married at age 21, we moved to Central Ohio. I filed for dissolution two years later and stayed here. I worked a bunch of shit jobs; airline ground crew, electronics store, technical support, lease verifications, billing support (just kill me. never again), customer service, management, training, tech support again, insurance adjuster, and phlebotomy. 1. I get bored and 2. I like to learn. It’s like if you put a squirrel on a chess board and every square contained a different snack.

In 2016 I met a small group of Buddhists. I tried things like sitting meditation (which I still suck at, btw), reading Steve Hagen, Pema Chodron, and the Dalai Lama, and learning the concept of joy through stillness. Even though I’ve fallen off the meditation wagon many times, I became a teacher in this order.

Once you learn enough and teach enough, your teacher chooses a dharma name for you. This name represents your general character and focus. The dharma name my teacher chose for me is Shi Chuan Guo, which means “she who cuts through”. I like to simplify things. I like to get to the point. To summarize.

The more shit you go through, (if you pay attention) the smarter you get both spiritually and intellectually. Sometimes if you’re lucky, emotionally too.

In my 50 years I’ve met so many broken people. And I can relate because I’ve been there, am there. I’ve learned some stuff. I hope to share some of that here, with you.