Tammie Fowles's Page

I attended a presentation on Henry Corbin yesterday. I'm wondering if anyone knows if Matt Fox has referred to him in any of his writings. And if so, what's Fox's take on him?

I love Maine in September. I savor its gentle temperatures, mist filled mornings, and its quiet country roads. While I’ll admit that there’s a slight melancholy in the air as summer drifts relentlessly backward into the past, there’s a whiff of promise too. The leaves are beginning their spectacular turning, the apples and pumpkins grow closer to harvest with the dawn of each new day, and tomatoes hang ripe and juicy on the vine.
Autumn is a time of both abundance and disintegration, of brillian… Continue

In The Power of Myth, Joseph Campbell wrote, "The Christian separation of matter and spirit, of the dynamism of life and the realm of the spirit, of natural grace and supernatural grace, has really castrated nature…The true spirituality, which would have come from the union of matter and spirit, has been killed." (p. 197)

"Our story of the Fall in the Garden sees nature as corrupt; and that myth corrupts the whole world for us. Because nature is thought of as corrupt, every spontaneous a… Continue

I love the following quote by Fred Buechner regarding our stories.

"My story is important not because it is mine, God knows, but because if I tell it anything like right, the chances are you will recognize that in many ways it is also yours. Maybe nothing is more important than that we keep track, you and I, of these stories of who we are and where we have come from and the people we have met along the way because it is precisely through these stories in all their particularity, as I have long… Continue

Poet David Whyte wrote, “remember how as a child your arms could rise and your palms turn out to bless the world?"

Two year old Skylar is helping me remember as he delights in the dancing shadows that the tree branches and afternoon sun creates on his bedroom wall, as we gather smooth rocks, each one a treasure, and then solemly let them go, watching them tumble over the dam, the force of the water misting our face if we lean close enough over the edge. I am reminded as we huddle in a blanket o… Continue