Dispatches
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In the Stillness Between Storms: A Word from the Mountain
I write to you from a stone terrace in the Andys Mountains, where the wind carries both snow and silence in equal measure. For twenty-three years, I have watched the sun rise…
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The Lamp We Must Each Become
The mornings in the Andys Mountains arrive slowly. Darkness does not flee at the first hint of dawn—it lingers, testing the resolve of the light. I have learned to sit in that…