by Hiro Boga | Creativity, Self-Care
Outside my window, on this January morning, the world is gray and black. A thick fog obscures the horizon, veiling everything but the foreground in gray. Shaggy cedar trees, their branches blackly etched against the sliding mists, lumber skyward. In the distance, the...
by Hiro Boga | Community, Inner Journeys
I woke up that September morning with a stiff neck and a sore right hip from sleeping on the couch in my cousin Dinaz’s living room. My fifty-two-year-old body, unaccustomed to narrow, hard mattresses and the slope of couch cushions, ached. Dinaz’s...
