For some reason the book “Hunger Mountain” by the author David Hinton was face-up on the passenger seat when I hopped into the Camry after having coffee with Jorge. Man, was I supremely chatty…

I had this lovely vision Saturday morning of a butterfly flying in through the open window of my room – any old butterfly – landing on my shoulder, whispering things into my ear with…

Last Wednesday, as I clicked the ‘Publish’ button to share “singalong junk,” a message flashed on the screen – “You’ve published 100 times on fromamountainbench.” I was kind of surprised to see it. One…

If you are reading this it’s likely you have some degree of personal relationship with me — long-time friend, former soul mate, parent of a kid, on the job, acquaintance from one of “the…

I snapped these pictures yesterday on my way out hiking the Bob Jones Trail in Avila Beach. Every time I hike the trail, out from the beach and back to the beach, I stop…

My mind found its way to Linda Eastman while on my early walk before the meditation meeting Monday morning. Paul McCartney’s so lovely wife, and bandmate, who left the planet in 1998, I guess…

At the tail end of a lovely walk on the Bob Jones Trail Saturday afternoon, I heard myself say this: “Why am I sometimes utterly sure everything goes exactly the way it’s supposed to,…

Part One: I don’t know how to be cool. I wear beat-up jeans and too big sweatshirts. I don’t feel a need for social skills. My primary focus in this world – every day,…

Following the divorce, I stayed with my friend Kate at her house in Milwaukie, Oregon for a month before finding on line and moving into a room in a house in Encinitas, California. One…

Some of the few miles added to the Camry’s odometer came from driving briefly from Nehalem Street (home) in Southeast to Portland’s Rhododendren Garden, also in SE. Generally into the smallish parking lot, but…