After six years of compassion-based meditation practice, I don't call myself a Buddhist—and I'm not sure I'll ever feel inclined to label myself with the "B”"word. Still, it's the path of Buddhism I walk because the dhamma opens my eyes and speaks to my heart in ways that no other spiritual approach has or can. It has shown me where and how to clear boulders blocking the road to mind-body healing. It continually teaches me that, try as I might, there's no running from present circumstances—and that I can love every messed-up part of myself. Above all: It grounds me in the reality that where there's a dearth of compassion for ourselves and others, there's a depth of suffering.