People say if you want to write, you should write about something you are either passionate about or know enough about to fill a few pages.

So I fused my decades of Zen training and practice with a cat and named him Taro. You could say Taro had his beginnings in my past.

Taro the Zen Cat is not philosophical or psychological. Zen is more of a state of being – ontological, non-linear, non-conceptual. Actually, Zen is hard to write about – easier to just do. But by using a cat and all the animals in a magical forest, training with Gennan Roshi, portrayed in human form, became much easier and fun to read and understand. At least I hope so for you.

A note of interest: Gennan Roshi is a real person – William Yoshin Gennan Jordan, Roshi. Taro’s character is fictional, but based on the comings and goings of my own experiences with Zen training and practice. Oliver is my big ginger cat who transforms into Taro, and Beck, my gray cat, becomes Sachi in the book, Taro’s sister.

My hope is that you love Taro as much as I do and you relax and just go on a journey of profound commitment and inspiration with him. Maybe it’s similar to your journey, too. You’ll know if it is.

By day for many decades, I was a Speech-Language Pathologist and worked in private practice with little kids from 18 months to 5 years of age. They were often so funny to me and I learned a lot about the magic of the evolution of language, humor (okay, especially potty humor. Chicken poo-poo salad, anyone?), the beauty of innocence, and the grace of flexibility. I can only say it’s clear that much of Taro’s antagonist’s behavior was shaped out of my experiences with these young children.

Other than spending the bulk of my professional days as a Speech-Language Pathologist, I also have an MSW in Clinical Social Work and a PhD in Leadership and Change. But to be fair, I think the PhD was more of a bucket list thing. I want to ride a camel in Morocco, too.

And finally, in August of 2020, I moved from Los Angeles with Oliver and Beck to Cuenca, Ecuador, 8500 feet above sea level, high up in the Andes. Since then, we’ve been chilling and loving life here. They acclimated quickly, despite needing to climb up 14 steps to get to the bedroom. And then go down again if they wanted to eat. It took fatty Oliver about a week before he didn’t have to rest on the landing to go all the way up or come all the way down. I, on the other hand, still struggle going up the 90 stone steps from the Tomebamba River to our home in El Centro, the heart of this beautiful, colonial city.