David Dillard-Wright's Page

Okay, guys. I haven't posted in awhile, as you can see. I've decided not to keep track of each particular gift, because it's making me feel like I'm not doing enough, etc. What I can say is that this challenge has made me think differently about my life, made me think about putting energy out into the world rather than solely receiving it back from the world. I know that sounds kind of California New-Agey, but it's the best way I know how to say it. If you concentrate solely on, "what am I… Continue

I think this will make ten days now. I've been kind of slack with my giving, really. I invited a work friend out to lunch this week. That doesn't sound like much, I know, but I'm not usually a very sociable guy. I'll count that as a gift, and it was really a gift to me, since we had a good time.



Let's see, any other gifts...I've been trying to be less irritated when my students ask me annoying questions. I've been reading the Gita off and on lately (at the Int'l Gita Society… Continue

I have to say that I didn't do my gifting yesterday... I taught my classes as usual, did some administrative-type work, and came home. My evening was on the whole pretty normal. Today I brought cupcakes for my colleagues, but Jessica baked them. I feel a bit like I'm doing the things that I normally do and then trying to figure out how they count as giving. But maybe that's part of the point? That we're all caught in networks of mutuality? If we stopped doing the normal acts of giving that we… Continue

Your duty is to Be, and not to be this or that.

"I am that I am" sums up the whole truth; the method is summarized in "Be still."

--Ramana Maharshi

The animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more
complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with
extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by
voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren; they are not
underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net
of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the
earth.

~Henry Beston, The Outermost House, 1928