I like her. It’s odd that she ditched her name and in some respects her culture, but what I’ve read of her seems authentic, unlike the only about 5-10 pages of Marianne Williamson I was able to get through before deciding something was really wrong.
I remember reading Erich Fromm’s book “The Art of Love” many years ago, and taking away from it that love is work. Perhaps I got my idea of love as the summation of individuation (one thing becomes another) from him. I don’t honestly remember.
Leo Buscaglia is another I tried to read, and failed, but he was just too perky for me. I didn’t get the sense he was a fraud, just that he was far too distant in personality from me. I need people much closer to being assholes. I’m not implying Chodron is–she isn’t, as far as I can tell–but she does live in the frozen north, which makes her much less Italian. I’m not at all Italian.