Writing
Writing is one of the ways I synthesize experiences and stay in conversation with the world.
I write about animals, ethics, ecology, and mindfulness—sharing stories that reveal both the heartbreak and the hope of our times.
“You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
Except the one in which you belong.”
— David Whyte
From ‘Thresholds’
“Lord Ganeśa stands amidst the ashes of a home in Altadena, often known as the remover of obstacles and the one who presides over thresholds. This mūrti caught me by surprise as we wrapped up our first day documenting areas affected by the Eaton Fire. We had just seen a coyote searching for food, put out water for her, and climbed the hill to take in the view from above. Wandering around a corner, I came across a completely destroyed house. At the entrance, it was clear that there had been an altar, with Ganeśa presiding over the threshold.
I don’t know if the residents of this home have returned to see what remains of their lives here, and I wonder what will happen to this statue when the bulldozers come to clear the debris. This scene was hard to leave, especially as the full Wolf Moon rose over the hills, owls hooted in the distance, and sounds of chainsaws and helicopters filled the air. I felt like I was abandoning Ganeśa in this burned landscape.
From what I’ve seen through the lenses of other photographers, many gods, goddesses, and Buddhas held their own as flames tore through everything they were meant to protect. Yet, perhaps what they were truly meant to protect is more subtle: courage, kindness, and hope—all of which remain abundantly visible in the individuals and communities across Los Angeles.”
From ‘The Aurora Hen Rescue’
From the outside, the barn looked like those I've passed on highways and country roads — unassuming, easy to miss. But stepping inside, the reality was overwhelming. The air inside the barn was thick — dust, ammonia, the movement of too many bodies in one space.
The hens hid or ran, unaware that for many of them, their life was about to change. The hens lived in this difficult space until their bodies gave out. Entire flocks were killed at around a year and a half old when the birds were no longer considered "productive."
Standing in the barn, surrounded by stressed hens running in every direction, I told the farm worker that we had an agreement with the farm manager to take about 100 hens to sanctuaries without having to pay for them.
He either didn't understand or didn't believe me. I pressured him and I stayed there until he finally texted the manager.
The manager pulled up and walked briskly toward me. "All the hens are already called for," he said sharply. He had made a deal with another egg-laying operation.
I took a long breath.
Though I felt defensive, my long-standing meditation and mindfulness practice gave me a moment to pause. I could have easily seen this man as the enemy and become annoyed or angry — a stance often taken in animal advocacy when coming face to face with farmers in animal agriculture, which I wholeheartedly understand.
However, my mind was centered on doing whatever was necessary to drive away with hens in my car. I opened myself up to a conversation with this person who was just trying to do their job."
Connection
From ‘Animals Amid War: The Soul of Gaza’
“The suffering of animals deepens the grief of the people in Gaza. They cannot look away—and yet, they cannot always help. The war on Gaza is not only a war on its people; it is a war on every living being who once knew a different Palestine. A war on dogs and donkeys, cats and camels, birds, trees, soil, air—on life itself.
What would it mean to center the animals? To account for their illnesses, their injuries, the loads they carry, their thirst and hunger, their fear?
One of the most moving aspects of Sulala’s work is that, while others may consider some animals more important than others, there is no hierarchy at Sulala’s clinics and medical points. A donkey is not more or less important than a dog. An injured puppy and an overworked horse are equally deserving of compassion and care. That simple ethos—an animal in need is an animal in need—is a testament to Sulala’s commitment to helping as many animals as possible.'
During the 42-day ceasefire that began on January 19th, 2025, one aid truck from Animals Australia—held at the border for months—finally made it through. It was a cause for celebration. The Sulala team, who had been feeding animals with beans and other canned items, were able to provide people’s companion and working animals with more nutritious food. To the staff and volunteers, it felt like a miracle.
But when the ceasefire ended, the toll—both physical and psychological—on people and animals grew heavier. Conditions worsened: food prices skyrocketed, and the needs of both animals and humans became more dire. Sulala gives whatever they can—education for children, veterinary and medical care, food, clean water. While the infrastructure of Gaza collapses, they create refuge. They have become sanctuary.”
From ‘A Return to Wildness’
“Just this morning, I was on a walk, contemplating why I love solitary time immersed in the natural world. These are some of the reflections that came to mind:
When I’m surrounded by plants, water, and the more-than-human animals, I feel like I belong - that I don’t need the constructs of words to explain how or who I am. I can simply…be.
Everything in nature is in a state of flux, which reminds me that I, too, am not static. I’m in constant relationship with the seasons and the shifting states of being I inhabit.
There is a time for activity and a time for rest. Every living being knows this and responds honestly and accordingly. There is no pressure to keep up or betray one’s inner orientation.
When I am still, the world comes to me - and in those moments, I feel a deep sense of belonging.
It’s this sense of belonging that opens me to generosity and compassion."
