The small dokusan room, dark even at midday, was filled with the sound of the nearby Tassajara Creek. Sitting face-to-face, knees almost touching, my teacher Darlene Cohen said to me, “You don’t have to be so afraid.” My body jerked back a bit, not sure I had heard her correctly. “Sorry,” I said, tilting my head in question, “Could you repeat that?” “You don’t have to be so afraid.” I had heard it right, I thought, totally mystified. Thus began …
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