Phenomenal Women Quotes

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally.

It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Water isn't shaped like a river or ocean; it mists invisibly against metal and glass

You have tried to destroy me and though I perish daily, I shall not be moved.

I could do things to your body that most women only dream about while reading their dirty romance novels, and I promise you’d fucking enjoy it.

I am Woman, Phenomenally, Phenomenal Woman, that's me.

Our Pioneers and Trailblazers who dared to make the journey into the unknown have given us the courage to break out of our comfort zone to dare to be unique, magnificent, phenomenal; and have set ideals to stand for the power of truth.

Her heart is Exquisite! She’s genuine, loving, kind, compassionate, and generous. An awe-inspiring soul is what she is! She is joy, she is light, she is LOVE.

A unifying factor between the different traditions and lineages of Tantra, is that it is feminine in nature. It acknowledges the feminine as the basis from which all the practices spring. Therefore, Tantra is by its nature, the understanding that all phenomenal existence, the universe, or cosmos, that we experience is feminine in nature.

Foolish acts and bold adventures almost always appear, especially in the beginning, to be the absolute same thing.

This black woman rocks on a phenomenal level!

A Black Queen knows that her beauty is just a bonus. She is far more beautiful than the eyes can see. She’s a quality woman… A phenomenal Black Queen… Beautiful inside and out!

Authenticity is Why I Shine so Bright! My confidence, fearlessness, and success are a direct reflection of me being my unapologetic and authentic self. I am an Exquisite Black Queen… Phenomenal!

When you learn, teach. When you get, give” “But still, like dust, I’ll rise” “I’m not on top but I call it swell if I’m able to work and get paid right...” “I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me.

There’s no reason for you to be jealous, envious, and/or intimidated by her. Step your game up, and be confident in yourself! Unapologetic Exquisite Black Queens aren’t intimidated by another woman’s confidence, beauty, or success. We don’t see them as a threat; We root for our Sistas, because that’s what phenomenal Black women do!

I’m an Exquisite Black Queen! I like, love, and celebrate myself. I don’t fit society’s beauty standards, but I’m beautiful to me. I know my worth and I respect who I am as a woman. I’ve got beauty on the inside and that makes me empowered and powerful. I’m fearless and comfortable in my own skin. I’ve got flaws, but I’m still confident! This Queen right here is flawed yet phenomenal, valuable and unique!

They tried to stop her, but they failed miserably. They overlooked her, tried to discourage her, and sabotage her, but she persevered through it all with her head held high. They talked behind her back and plotted against her, but they didn’t realize that they were messing with an unstoppable, resilient Black Queen. She’s ambitious, intelligent, self-confident, and bold. She’s a Phenomenal Black Queen that didn’t have to compromise her integrity to get ahead. She’s genuinely happy, successful, and free to be herself. She can, she does, she wins!

She doesn’t need the spotlight, because she is the light wherever she goes.

Apparently women are phenomenal creature, but to be contented with ones own beauty is a risk only few can take.

Dear Exquisite Black Queen... No matter what shade of MELANIN you are, know that your skin tone is brilliant. You, my Queen, are phenomenally made!

Who is an Exquisite Black Queen? She’s an Empowered Black Woman… Fearless, resilient, confident, intelligent, and successful… She rocks on a phenomenal level!

Yes, you have flaws, but you are also flawless. Yes, you have been hurt, but you are indestructible. You’re a remarkable, phenomenal woman who is worthy of respect and love.

A well-dressed, self-assured business executive steps into a quiet corner of the conference room, crowded with people. Everyone there is aware of her presence. She's dark-haired, petite, and alluring. She is quick to smile, and when she does, her whole face lights up. Her enthusiasm is infectious. Young men and women nod as they pass by, briefly breaking off their conversations with colleagues. The executive looks down at her compact electronic device and quickly texts: "Smile. Talk into the mic. Good luck.

Some people celebrate birthdays and expect to be told, Happy Birthday to mark another year of getting older while others celebrate achievements and receive congratulations to mark another milestone. We are different, but happy birthday to you.

Every woman needs these three things: Self-Esteem, Self-Love, and Self-Confidence. A female that possess all three is an empowered and unstoppable Queen. She knows her worth! Everything about her represents quality. Her happiness comes from within, first. She respects herself. She values who she is. She’s not easily impressed or persuaded by people or things. She has purpose and direction! An admirable being is what she is: Extraordinary and highly desirable. She’s an Unparalleled Woman.

When women saw her photo and heard her life story, they clamored to take her course and sit for her treatments. The twin promises of enhanced beauty and financial gain—not to mention Madam Walker’s own phenomenal personal example—served as a magnet to women who had always believed they would never be more than maids and laundresses.

I rock on a phenomenal level!

Accept it… Black women and Black girls in STEM rock on a phenomenal level!

Dear Exquisite Black Queen… You are original, unique, and exquisite! Embrace your imperfections with confidence and self-love. Your authentic self is your best self! Flaws and all, you’re still a rare gem! Black woman, you are phenomenal, please believe that!

They are strong They are the rock. They are important Lets love them. Lets respect them Lets honor them. Lets appreciate them Lets protect them Lets support them Lets save them Lets listen to them Lets believe them Lets be there for them. They are our children, our sisters, our girlfriends, our friends, our wives, our mothers, our grand mothers, our colleagues, our neighbors. They don't need to prove themselves or to explain themselves to anyone. They need to be who they are. Phenomenal women. To all the women out there . Happy Women's Month

Phenomenal Woman Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms, The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them, They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing, It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, The palm of my hand, The need for my care. 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Doubtless there are people who continue to consider love above dollars and cents. Particularly is this true or that class whom economic necessity has forced to become self-supporting. The tremendous change in woman's position, wrought by that might factor, is indeed phenomenal when we reflect that it is but a short time since she has entered the industrial arena. Six million women wage workers; six million women, who have equal rights with men to be exploited, to be robbed, to go on strike; aye, to starve even. Anything more, my lord? Yes, six million wage workers in every walk of life, from the highest brain work to the mines and railroad tracks; yes, even detectives and policemen. Surely the emancipation is complete.

What really amazes me is that survivors can be out in the world completely functional using maybe 20 percent of their capacity. Can you imagine what we'll be able to do when we let the other 80 percent out? If we were able to recover, stop the abuse, and heal everyone, the world we live in would be so phenomenal. If you think of all the ways in which you have been stunted, all the energy you have consumed simply to keep hanging on by your fingernails, all that you might have created or accomplished or simply enjoyed had you not had to stagger under the burden of abuse, you may have a formidable list. If you multiply that times the number of other women similarly struggling—not only now but also back through the decades and centuries—the result is awesome. Now, imagine all the women healed—and all that energy no longer used for mere survival but made available for creativity, nurturing relationships, working for peace and equality. The effect on the world would be monumental. We have never in recorded history lived in a time when women were, as a whole, empowered. We can only begin to imagine the riches.

There’s a pizza place I want you to try, Ciccio’s. You heard of it?” “We can get good pizza on Fifth.” “No, you have to try this place, Matt. It’s phenomenal.” “What’s phenomenal, the pizza or the staff?” Since my divorce a few years ago, Scott—boss, friend, and eternal bachelor—had high hopes that I’d become his permanent wingman. It was impossible to talk him out of anything, especially when it involved women and food. “You got me. You have to see this girl. We’ll call it a work meeting. I’ll put it on the company card.” Scott was the type who talked about women a lot and about porn even more. He was severely out of touch with reality. “I’m sure this qualifies as sexual harassment somewhere.

This makes a mockery of real science, and its consequences are invariably ridiculous. Quite a few otherwise intelligent men and women take it as an established principle that we can know as true only what can be verified by empirical methods of experimentation and observation. This is, for one thing, a notoriously self-refuting claim, inasmuch as it cannot itself be demonstrated to be true by any application of empirical method. More to the point, though, it is transparent nonsense: most of the things we know to be true, often quite indubitably, do not fall within the realm of what can be tested by empirical methods; they are by their nature episodic, experiential, local, personal, intuitive, or purely logical. The sciences concern certain facts as organized by certain theories, and certain theories as constrained by certain facts; they accumulate evidence and enucleate hypotheses within very strictly limited paradigms; but they do not provide proofs of where reality begins or ends, or of what the dimensions of truth are. They cannot even establish their own working premises—the real existence of the phenomenal world, the power of the human intellect accurately to reflect that reality, the perfect lawfulness of nature, its interpretability, its mathematical regularity, and so forth—and should not seek to do so, but should confine themselves to the truths to which their methods give them access. They should also recognize what the boundaries of the scientific rescript are. There are, in fact, truths of reason that are far surer than even the most amply supported findings of empirical science because such truths are not, as those findings must always be, susceptible of later theoretical revision; and then there are truths of mathematics that are subject to proof in the most proper sense and so are more irrefutable still. And there is no one single discourse of truth as such, no single path to the knowledge of reality, no single method that can exhaustively define what knowledge is, no useful answers whose range has not been limited in advance by the kind of questions that prompted them. The failure to realize this can lead only to delusions of the kind expressed in, for example, G. G. Simpson’s self-parodying assertion that all attempts to define the meaning of life or the nature of humanity made before 1859 are now entirely worthless, or in Peter Atkins’s ebulliently absurd claims that modern science can “deal with every aspect of existence” and that it has in fact “never encountered a barrier.” Not only do sentiments of this sort verge upon the deranged, they are nothing less than violent assaults upon the true dignity of science (which lies entirely in its severely self-limiting rigor).

In the light of the evidence it is hard to believe that most crusaders were motivated by crude materialism. Given their knowledge and expectations and the economic climate in which they lived, the disposal of assets to invest in the fairly remote possibility of settlement in the East would have been a stupid gamble. It makes much more sense to suppose, in so far as one can generalize about them, that they were moved by an idealism which must have inspired not only them but their families. Parents, brothers and sisters, wives and children had to face a long absence and must have worried about them: in 1098 Countess Ida of Boulogne made an endowment to the abbey of St Bertin 'for the safety of her sons, Godfrey and Baldwin, who have gone to Jerusalem'.83 And they and more distant relatives — cousins, uncles and nephews - were prepared to endow them out of the patrimonial lands. I have already stressed that no one can treat the phenomenal growth of monasticism in this period without taking into account not only those who entered the communities to be professed, but also the lay men and women who were prepared to endow new religious houses with lands and rents. The same is true of the crusading movement. Behind many crusaders stood a large body of men and women who were prepared to sacrifice interest to help them go. It is hard to avoid concluding that they were fired by the opportunity presented to a relative not only of making a penitential pilgrimage to Jerusalem but also of fighting in a holy cause. For almost a century great lords, castellans and knights had been subjected to abuse by the Church. Wilting under the torrent of invective and responding to the attempts of churchmen to reform their way of life in terms they could understand, they had become perceptibly more pious. Now they were presented by a pope who knew them intimately with the chance of performing a meritorious act which exactly fitted their upbringing and devotional needs and they seized it eagerly. But they responded, of course, in their own way. They were not theologians and were bound to react in ways consonant with their own ideas of right and wrong, ideas that did not always respond to those of senior churchmen. The emphasis that Urban had put on charity - love of Christian brothers under the heel of Islam, love of Christ whose land was subject to the Muslim yoke - could not but arouse in their minds analogies with their own kin and their own lords' patrimonies, and remind them of their obligations to avenge injuries to their relatives and lords. And that put the crusade on the level of a vendetta. Their leaders, writing to Urban in September 1098, informed him that 'The Turks, who inflicted much dishonour on Our Lord Jesus Christ, have been taken and killed and we Jerusalemites have avenged the injury to the supreme God Jesus Christ.

Be Fierce, Be Fabulous, Be vibrant, Be healed, Be who you are - A Phenomenal Woman!

My dick’s pretty fucking phenomenal. You should see it. Grown women have been known to weep when they behold it.” He

My dick’s pretty fucking phenomenal. You should see it. Grown women have been known to weep when they behold it.” … “I’m sure your dick is magnificent,” I said, groaning under my breath. “I’m sure women across the country have carved wooden replicas of it that they worship daily. It’s probably the most stunning cock to have ever gotten a boner. But I’m gonna pass this time.

Some of my Black sistas don’t know any better, so I’d like to give them some enlightening food-for-thought. Many of them are in awe when it comes to Michelle Obama. They admire and celebrate her intelligence and beauty. For many Black women, she’s a positive and powerful role model. Our former First Lady is phenomenal to say the least! She’s a lawyer, writer, and she fearlessly wears many other hats with integrity and grace. But, here’s what I’d like to point out: If you can admire and celebrate her, why can’t you do the same for YOUR family and friends? Why is it that when people that you personally know obtain degrees, start a successful business, buy a home, are financially secure, happily married, etc… Here you go hatin’ on them. Why can’t you genuinely be happy for them and share in their greatness? I encourage you to celebrate the Black women around you, too!

I’m an original! I have no desire to be like you, her, or them. This Unapologetic Exquisite Black Queen is unmatched! There is absolutely no reason for me to compete, copy, or envy other women. I rock on a phenomenal level!

Page 32: The phenomenal commercial success of the Chinese in Thailand, and indeed throughout Southeast Asia, has no single or simple explanation. Certainly this success is partly attributable to such personal qualities as perseverance, capacity for hard work, and business acumen, but one of the most important factors has been the tight social and economic organization developed by overseas Chinese communities. Such communities in Southeast Asia appear remarkable self-sufficient and to many observers seem to form alien societies within the host society. They have proved unusually effective, on the one hand, for encouraging mutual aid and co-operation among heterogeneous linguistic and socio-economic groups and, on the other, for providing protection from hostile or competitive individuals and governments. Better than most people the Chinese have learned the dictum that ‘in unity there is strength’. Their organizational cohesion furnishes much of the answer not only to the economic well-being of the Chinese as a group but also to the persistence of their cultural patterns and values in an alien and sometimes unfriendly social environment. This is a community of interest as well, for the wealth accumulated by the successful business man is used in part to support a multiplicity of ethnic organizations: trade guilds, a powerful Chinese Chamber of Commerce, dialect associations, benevolent and charitable organizations, surname associations, religious groups for both men and women, sports associations and social clubs.

Lord, you women.” He shook his head. “Weapons of mass confusion.

Hale was among the first in a very long line of women who stepped far beyond the home but had phenomenal success in telling other women that the home was where they belonged.

Joan Joyce is the real deal, a fierce competitor and one of the greatest athletes and coaches in sports history. Tony Renzoni’s moving tribute to Joan shows us why she is a champion in sports and in life. —Billie Jean King, sports icon and equality pioneer The story is all true. Joan Joyce was a tremendous pitcher, as talented as anyone who ever played. [responding to a newspaper account of his early 1960s match-ups against Joan Joyce] —Ted Williams, Hall of Famer and Boston Red Sox great, December 30, 1999 Joan Joyce is truly the greatest female athlete in sports history. And a great coach as well. Tony Renzoni’s well-researched book is a touching tribute to this phenomenal athlete. I highly recommend this book! —Bobby Valentine, former MLB player and manager Quotes for Historic Connecticut Music Venues: From the Coliseum to the Shaboo: I would like to thank Tony Renzoni for giving me the opportunity to write the foreword to his wonderful book. I highly recommend Connecticut Music Venues: From the Coliseum to Shaboo to music lovers everywhere! —Felix Cavaliere, Legendary Hall of Famer (Young Rascals/Rascals, Solo) As the promoter of the concerts in many of the music venues in this book, I hope you enjoy living the special memories this book will give you. —Jim Koplik, Live Nation president, Connecticut and Upstate New York Tony Renzoni has captured the soul and spirit of decades of the Connecticut live music scene, from the wild and wooly perspective of the music venues that housed it. A great read! —Christine Ohlman, the “Beehive Queen,” recording artist/songwriter Tony Renzoni has written a very thoughtful and well-researched tribute to the artists of Connecticut, and we are proud to have Gene included among them. —Lynne Pitney, wife of Gene Pitney Our Alice Cooper band recorded the Billion Dollars Babies album in a mansion in Greenwich. Over the years, there have been many great musicians from Connecticut, and the local scene is rich with good music. Tony Renzoni’s book captures all of that and more. Sit back and enjoy the ride. —Dennis Dunaway, hall of famer and co-founder of the Alice Cooper band. Rock ’n’ Roll music fans from coast to coast will connect to events in this book. Strongly recommended! —Judith Fisher Freed, estate of Alan Freed

A Pheonomenal woman is driven by her divine given POWER: The acronym Power defines her qualities: Poised for success Opportunities are endless Works hard to achieve her goals Enduring strength and vitality Reaps the rewards of her hard work A Phenomenal woman will get out of bed, when the whole world around her is falling apart.

Black women and Black girls in STEM are phenomenal! They’re intelligent, fearless, resilient, and unstoppable. They exude confidence, strength, determination, and excellence. Accept it… Black females in STEM rock!

Dinner progressed. Tyler brought our food in a moderately courteous manner but didn’t say much. Not that he could have, what with Marty’s constant anecdotes about the seedy underbelly of storage unit politics. In between stories, my date would ask questions, such as “how many gallons” was the largest breast implant I’d ever given a woman? “You know,” Marty said, screeching his knife across the plate as he carved up his virtually raw steak, “that gives me a phenomenal idea. You and I could team up on this and make a killing.” Typically, as a doctor, I tried to avoid that phrase. “Really, and what’s that?” He leaned forward, his face serious as bad news. “Saline-filled testicular implants. Boom!” He smacked his hands down on the table and sat up straight. “Think of it. Just like boob implants, only for the balls. ’Cause women like a good set of stones. Am I right?” No. He was wrong. No woman ever was attracted to a man because of his gargantuan balls.

I imagine that writing about erotica is just about the most boring thing in the world. Your timing has to be just right. Men and women have to fall in love with your characters. Your characters have to be believable. That's why the 50 Shades trilogy intrigued both men andwomen across the world. It was a rubbish book that had a phenomenal following amongst mostly women whose partners were physically, mentally, verbally towards them. Does this include sodomy, and rape? We must, MUST ask ourselves that question. What happens to men when they are wounded (for their transgressions or otherwise). What happens when a man is wounded by gender abuse. Is that what happened to his partner in another life. This raises more questions about transcendental meditation, questions about Siddhartha (the Buddha), the occult and sacrifice. 50 shades covers arousal, stimulation, the woman being submissive, role play (much like the roles both men and women play in society, don't you think). Men behaving badly or men behaving like women (like the homosexual also known as gay). 50 shades (no, I don't watch rubbish like that but I do understand that a lot of couples, heterosexual and homosexual watch pornography and pornography is not meant for children, look out for censorship here again when it comes to the sexual impulse, sexuality, gender bias and gender discrimination).

The second part of each Veda, called jnana kanda, concerns not ritual, but wisdom: what life is about; what death means; what the human being is, and the nature of the God head that sustains us; in a word, the burning questions that men and women have asked in every age. The ritual sections of the Vedas define the religion of a particular culture; but the second part, the Upanishads, is universal, as relevant to the world today as it was to India five thousand years ago.... These are signs of a crucial difference in perspective. The rest of the Vedas, like other great scriptures, look outward in reverence and awe of the phenomenal world. The Upanishads look inward, finding the powers of nature only an expression of the more awe-inspiring powers of human consciousness

Women are phenomenal but sometimes they forget that because they allow themselves to be consumed by the negativity from the wrong men!

The mid-eighteenth century saw the phenomenal success of the novels of sensibility, which glorified the supposedly female qualities of compassion, sympathy, intuition and ‘natural’ spontaneous feeling, while neglecting the cardinal virtues of reason, restraint and deference to established codes and institutions. But new idioms do not necessarily connote new behaviour.

Jonas walked beside her with his hands clasped behind has back, staring straight ahead, occasionally mouthing phrases to himself. I shouldn’t be doing this seemed to be his favorite, with have you gone insanecoming in at a close second. I get one hour. That was her favorite of his mutterings so far. He hadn’t said, “You get one hour.” He’d said, “I get one hour.” And maybe, just maybe, that meant he was enjoying being with her, even if he looked like he was being boiled alive in a pit of hot oil. A girl could dream. “One hour,” she murmured now. “And then I won’t see you again?” Grooves formed between his brows. “Correct.” She ignored the pang in her chest. “This is a unique opportunity then.” He seemed reluctantly intrigued. “How so?” “Since we’re never going to see each other after tonight, we can say the weirdest things on our minds without fear of reliving the embarrassment every time we meet. Maybe I can even pass on the secrets of womankind. Aren’t you curious why women open their mouth when they apply mascara?” “Not until now. Why do they?” “It’s reflexive. When a woman is trying not to blink, the oculomotor nerve is activated, triggering the trigeminal nerve that opens the jaw. Mouth open equals no blinking—and our bodies just do it naturally.” She beamed at him. “Aren’t you glad you came on this walk?

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size. But when I start to tell them, they think I’m telling lies. I say, it’s in the reach of my arms the span of my hips, the stride of my step, the curl of my lips. I’m a woman. Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, that’s me.

I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal women, That's me.

This point was driven home for me for the first time when I was traveling in Asia in 1978 on a trip to a forest monastery in northeastern Thailand, Wat Ba Pong, on the Thai-Lao border. I was taken there by my meditation teacher, Jack Kornfield, who was escorting a group of us to meet the monk under whom he had studied at that forest hermitage. This man, Achaan Chaa, described himself as a “simple forest monk,” and he ran a hundred-acre forest monastery that was simple and old-fashioned, with one notable exception. Unlike most contemporary Buddhist monasteries in Thailand, where the practice of meditation as the Buddha had taught had all but died out, Achaan Chaa’s demanded intensive meditation practice and a slow, deliberate, mindful attention to the mundane details of everyday life. He had developed a reputation as a meditation master of the first order. My own first impressions of this serene environment were redolent of the newly extinguished Vietnam War, scenes of which were imprinted in my memory from years of media attention. The whole place looked extraordinarily fragile to me. On my first day, I was awakened before dawn to accompany the monks on their early morning alms rounds through the countryside. Clad in saffron robes, clutching black begging bowls, they wove single file through the green and brown rice paddies, mist rising, birds singing, as women and children knelt with heads bowed along the paths and held out offerings of sticky rice or fruits. The houses along the way were wooden structures, often perched on stilts, with thatched roofs. Despite the children running back and forth laughing at the odd collection of Westerners trailing the monks, the whole early morning seemed caught in a hush. After breakfasting on the collected food, we were ushered into an audience with Achaan Chaa. A severe-looking man with a kindly twinkle in his eyes, he sat patiently waiting for us to articulate the question that had brought us to him from such a distance. Finally, we made an attempt: “What are you really talking about? What do you mean by ‘eradicating craving’?” Achaan Chaa looked down and smiled faintly. He picked up the glass of drinking water to his left. Holding it up to us, he spoke in the chirpy Lao dialect that was his native tongue: “You see this goblet? For me, this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on a shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ But when I understand that this glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.”5 Achaan Chaa was not just talking about the glass, of course, nor was he speaking merely of the phenomenal world, the forest monastery, the body, or the inevitability of death. He was also speaking to each of us about the self. This self that you take to be so real, he was saying, is already broken.

It takes a phenomenally brave child to continually defy Gender’s wishes. It also takes brave parents.

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