Pema, with a wide grin on her shaved head, settled into a cushion in the middle of the room, the teacher’s seat. She immediately started teaching on the nature of things falling apart. It’s not just the material world, she noted. All things. All. Things. Our wishes, our dreams, our conceptions of who and what we are supposed to be, our sense of self, our sadness, our joy . . . all of it. Falling apart. All the time. Right before our eyes. And that hurts. It hurts because the ego, the fragile persona we develop to combat the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and our sense of utter
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