Coming Home

Hi Reader, I often hear people (not me specifically) ask people (also not me specifically) if they have any regrets. If I were the one being asked this question (which I am now asking myself, so I'm both peoples), this is what I'd answer: Of COURSE I have regrets. Dumb shit I did, mistakes I made, stuff that didn't go the way I wanted, and stuff I wanted that I didn't get. Basically, I've messed up (or been messed up by) lots of things while I've been around. At the same time, ALL of the...

Hi Reader, Speaking for myself, I spend a lot of time chasing feelings I consider "good" and running from feelings we consider "bad." Thinking that when I feel good it means I'm doing something right but when I feel bad I'm doing something wrong. I'm trying to learn to remember that this isn't true. So in classic projection fashion I'll say it to you instead: Whatever you're feeling right now, whether you consider it a "good" or "bad" feeling, one thing is certain: you're feeling it. And if...

Hi Reader, I laughed when that subject line came to me. Classic double meaning. Of course I mean "feelings themselves are not intelligent," and not the more epithetical "screw feelings!" (But hey, sometimes I feel that way, you know?) I was at a friend's parent's house the other day, and they had one of those security systems that dinged every time someone came into the kitchen: "BACK. DOOR." My friend and I were laughing that probably literally 100% of the time that warning was not actually...

Hi Reader, Here's one thing I've learned: your feelings aren't telling you the truth. A simple example. If you're afraid of roller coasters, it's not because roller coasters are actually scary and dangerous. There are lots of people who enjoy them safely. If you believe your feelings are telling you the truth, you'd never get on a roller coaster. That's one way to live life, and it's fine. Just don't deceive yourself that it's based on truth. The nuance here is that with some practice, you...

Hi Reader, There's a story about an ancient Greek philosopher, Protagoras, who would go the the agora and give a persuasive speech on a topic, virtue or the nature of the gods or something like that. His rhetoric was supposedly excellent, his arguments compelling. The next day, he'd return to the agora and make an equally impassioned argument against exactly the thing he'd argued for the previous day. Of course this tactic was aimed at rhetorically supporting his central statement, "[humans...

Hi Reader, I had a long, challenging conversation the other day. I shared a bunch of stuff I wanted to say but was afraid to say and didn't know how to say. There were tears and awkward pauses and things that didn't go the way I wanted them to, but there was also connection and laughter and cleaning up the mess and the creation of some new possibilities. None of this was directly related to the stuff I struggle with. None of it went straight at busyness or tiredness or lack of exercise or...

Hi Reader, It occurred to me this week that in this spiritual work I'm fumbling my way through I'm like a student who's been given the answers to the test—but who is unwilling or unable to accept them. I'm looking for proof. I'm familiar with the idea that I don't exist, that my ego isn't the real-real, that my mind is incapable of coming home. I'm familiar with it in the sense that I've heard about it. I've read about a lot of the stuff out there: Buddhism and nonduality and Christian...

Hi Reader, For bath time, we have a little projector in the bathroom that shines some water-like patterns and green stars on the ceiling. My 19-month son used to ask me to turn it on, and would sit there in the bath, staring at it. The other night he was in the bath and I turned it on. He hardly noticed. Just kept playing with his toys. I realized I'm vulnerable to the same phenomenon. My life is filled with amazing things—or at least things that amazed me at some point—that I now take almost...

Hi Reader, Can I share something vulnerable with you? When I sit down to write this newsletter in the precious little time I have to do so, and nothing comes to mind to write about, I feel ashamed and inadequate. So I sit quietly, and listen, and eventually something comes to me. Sometimes I don't want to write it. I didn't want to write that last paragraph. I'm having trouble even looking at the words, in fact. I'm doing a lot of glancing down and to the side (grateful for my ability to...

Hi Reader, I grew up thinking I was pretty smart. Not only that, but I thought being smart was really valuable. I realize now that I know almost nothing, but the part of me that thinks I'm smart and thinks it's valuable to be smart struggles with knowing nothing. I don't really know how to be with it. It's disconcerting—it puts me out of concert. Throws me off my performance. I guess that's what "being smart" is, isn't it? A performance. I'm learning I have very little idea with what to do...