“Form began to soften at the edges; the sense of ‘my’ body expanded into the space around it until inside and outside were no longer clearly divided. What remained was one continuous body of presence, appearing as fifteen people in a room.”

A lyrical reflection on the Afghanistan the world never sees—childhood gardens, family, memory, and the quiet grief of diaspora. An invitation to witness a different Kabul.

For those who pray in many tongues—or in holy silence—this meditation gathers the temple bell, the call to prayer, the rosary’s hush, and the breath that forms Om into one warm cup of morning presence. Arrive as you are; read slowly, and pause where your breath naturally pauses.