Two hard things happened after Bernie’s major stroke. The first was coming to grips with the fact that our life won’t be what it was. The second was bearing witness to the things my husband wanted or needed, and that I could not provide. In face of suffering and disappointment, my big challenge is not to react. There are unfulfilled wants and needs, curves no one expected. Cultivating curiosity about what’s around that bend has never been easy for me.” | “I have walked dogs while leaves are falling over many years. Stanley will be 13 shortly and I find myself wondering if this is his last fall, just as I wondered a few months ago if that was his last summer and I will probably ask the same question about winter when we walk on the snow. And I wonder what it would be like one day for both of us to lie down in the woods because we’re tired or our legs hurt, and never get up again.” | “Years ago I took a course on how to raise money. I was told that, when meeting a potential donor, the hardest thing isn’t to ask for a specific donation, the hardest thing is to ask and THEN SHUT UP. I can apply that lesson to the most mundane of circumstances: “How are you?” I ask someone. And now, Eve, shut up and listen.” | “Bernie’s physical therapist doesn’t want Bernie to favor the left leg, which he feels, over the right, which he can’t feel after the stroke: “Don’t stand on the leg you know can hold you,” he tells him. “Stand on the leg you don’t know can hold you.” Let go of what you know, the working limb that gives you confidence, and lean on the other side, the side you don’t trust, that you can barely make out is there.” | “I didn’t grow up on Mother Goose rhymes, I grew up on my mother’s stories of the Shoah and what she had had to do to survive. These were tales of death but also grit and courage, and they’ve influenced me from the time I was a girl.” | “Bernie was about to go out on an errand yesterday when I saw him standing at the door, his funny hat framing a sweet and happy face. I tried to capture the image right there, not a great photo by any means, just a casual, intimate moment that I may go back to years hence to remember how happy we were.” | “Nothing deters Stanley and me from our daily expeditions to the woods, not even shooting and the occasional glimpses of men in hunting gear with guns.” | “I am an immigrant, having come to the US at the age of 7. I remember tiptoeing silently down the hallway back then and listening to my parents talk in their bedroom about money, about how to pay bills and afford schoolbooks and clothes. Often the words they repeated were: What will happen?”


I’m coming. I’m coming. Why are you in such a rush?

You’re old and slow, Stan.

I’m coming. I’m coming.

You’re not frisky anymore, Stanley, you’re not jumping up and down with joy, you’re not chasing deer.

I’m coming. I’m coming.

Life doesn’t wait, Stan.

Of course it waits.

No it doesn’t, Stan. Time is rushing by. The months, the years. You think something happened 5 minutes ago, and you realize it was 15 years back! What are you doing?

I’m listening to the radio for news.

That’s not what you’re doing, Stanley, you’re sniffing that trailing arbutus.

That’s how I get my news.

So what’s new?

A mother raccoon has three new babies, only the youngest is kind of weak, probably won’t make it.

How do you know?

They peed here, and the youngest left a funny smell. And new highway construction is underway.

Where, Stanley?

Underground, dummy, where else do you dig up new highways? The voles got a late start this year but they’re busy now. There’s an entrance here, see that small hole? The exit is probably down by the creek. Speaking of which, you’re in big trouble.

What do you mean, Stan?

Overpopulation! Voles multiply like crazy, I can smell so many of them right now. They’ll be chewing up the roots of your apple tree in no time. And another thing: War is coming!


See where the grass is flattened over there? A family of coyotes. Pups walking now, starting to learn to hunt. I’m going to have to be careful when I go out at nights.

You think they’re coming after you?

OMG, just when you think you’ve seen it bad, it gets worse. Illegal immigrants!

Where, Stanley?

See that buckthorn over there, monopolizing all the sunlight? There goes the neighborhood. They’ll take over the entire forest and speak only Buckthornian. They’re taking over the forest. They’re taking over the world.

I never knew these woods could be so dangerous, Stanley. Who would have thought so much is going on. And you get all this from sniffing the trailing arbutus?

OMG, it gets worser and worser. I can’t believe it!

What’s happening, Stan?

See the scraping of the bark of that chestnut there? A buck rubbed his forehead there to leave his scent for the female deer. Disgusting! I’m ashamed!

What, Stan?

Sex and orgies are going on everywhere, even as we speak!

Where, Stan? Where?




The Dogs of the Kiskadee Hills: Hunt for the Lynx begins a trilogy about a society of dogs after humans have destroyed themselves and much of the world. Living with their families and clans in the Kiskadee Hills, they’ve developed over generations a rich tradition and way of life, and have prospered. But now, an unknown killer is butchering the Kisdees of the Hills.

Academy Award-winning actor Jeff Bridges says: “You will never look at dogs the same again. Eve Marko gives us a story that explores the path that life on our planet has taken, and asks what your role in that course might be.”


Eve Marko - Bearing Witness

To bear witness to anything is to be as close to it as possible.

It’s not to read books or see movies about it, it’s not to have an opinion or tell a story. It’s to let go of all ideas about it—be in the space of not-knowing—and simply be there, up close and deeply personal.

Eve has been involved with the Zen Peacemaker Order’s Bearing Witness Retreats—in places of suffering and conflict since her first visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau.

There have been 20 retreats at the site of those concentration camps since, along with retreats in Bosnia, Rwanda and the Black Hills of South Dakota, near the Pine Ridge Reservation.

Upcoming Bearing Witness Retreats:

Bosnia, May 2016 (Please email for details)


Eve Marko

Eve Marko is a writer of fiction and nonfiction, head teacher at the Green River Zen Center in Massachusetts, and a Founding Teacher of the Zen Peacemaker Order.

She has trained spiritually-based social activists and peacemakers in the US, Europe and the Middle East alongside her husband, Bernie Glassman, and has been a Spiritholder at retreats bearing witness to genocide at Auschwitz-Birkenau, Rwanda, the Black Hills in South Dakota, and Bosnia. Before that she worked at the Greyston Mandala for a decade, which provides housing, child care, jobs, and AIDS-related medical services in Yonkers, New York.

Eve’s articles on social activists have appeared in the magazines Tikkun and Shambhala Sun, and her collection for lay Zen practitoners, The Book of Householder Koans, will come out in late 2016. Her great love, Hunt for the Lynx, the first in her fantasy trilogy, The Dogs of the Kiskadee Hills, will come out in early 2016.

“When I was a young girl my dream was to be a hermit, live alone, and write serious literature. That’s not how things turned out. I got involved with people. I got involved in the world.

Two things matter to me right now: the creative spark and the aliveness of personal connection. In some way, they both come down to the same thing.”