The future

I just saw a post on Instagram from Glennon Doyle that says:

Do your daughters a favor and raise them so they know diet culture is a scam that will steal their money, confidence, and happiness.

This points to a larger idea, I think. Let’s raise kids that don’t believe in the systems that we believe are real. Let’s raise kids that see life as being the primary reason for existing, not work. Not profit. Not power. It’s doable. We can give them what we don’t have. What we can’t have.



A bit on wholeness

Our wholeness is an intrinsic part of our reality. We are born whole and we shall die whole. Our lives can be lived, unfortunately, in spaces between that wholeness. Our experiences shape both our perceptions of our lives and our physiology, both of which impact our capacity to be in our wholeness. I think in this, we experience a loss. Parts of ourselves get put into the shadows, onto the back burner, or rejected outright. We like to think of ourselves as powerful enough to be able to banish a part of ourselves. Yet, we are not. All we can do is, as they say in shadow work, hide, repress, or deny. This can’t make us less whole than we are.

What’s the point here? I’m thinking a lot about this as I do my own healing in life. As I go, I notice, more and more, that what I’m really doing is reclaiming something that’s always been present. It’s like accepting that I’m wearing a hat that I’ve always worn. Perhaps now I’ll care for it a bit differently.

The hardest part, I think, is that our physiology is truly shaped by our traumas. It makes it so we literally can’t experience certain things — certain parts of ourselves. This requires a level of work to connect with and move through that is challenging. But there is a light. The light at the end, in this case, is something that’s always been present regardless. It’s the light of our soul waiting for us, beckoning us to rejoin the place we belong — home.



We spend a lot of time trying to understand. We have a problem to fix, so we seek a solution. What did that person mean when they said that thing to us? A potential client reached out to us, but when push came to shove, the ghosted us. Why? What gives?

And then there are the even bigger kinds of understanding. Why do I suffer so much? How did I get here? What’s the point? These questions have been surfaced for millennia. There are countless books written about them. And, of course, we have the great religions. Part of their existence is to help us navigate these. Oh, and to provide us with answers in relationship to them.

The drive is to the answer. But what if the real meaning is in the question? What if the ultimate connection to life lies not in understanding but in asking?

Sometimes answers get in the way.



Pressure is mounting all around us. It’s embedded in our day-to-day lives as cost of living increases and a general sense of security decreases. Politics is only part of it. Those of us who identify as white are finally beginning to see the experience those who are Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (or BIPOC) have been having for centuries; at least some. Systems are feeling — and reaching — their limits.

And it’s coming to the surface in relationships. At least in some that are adjacent to me. I see people making choices that I never would have expected from them. I see tensions boiling. I see suffering.

The pressure speaks of change, I think. It speaks of transition. Charles Eisenstein speaks of the space between stories as a way of describing this moment. To me, it feels like an invitation. We can choose, moment-to-moment, to create something wholly new, together. Or we can let the pressure build to a boiling point.

I know which story I want to live in.


Plugging back in

I meant to do this a bit earlier. I took a week away from this space (as well as most other spaces in my life). We went on a week long Alaska cruise with my wife’s family. Unplugging and tuning out for a week really did me a lot of good. And I still came back tired. It’s amazing how much seems to get stored up in the body.

Back now. And looking forward to continuing exploring here.


To choose

Sometimes a choice isn’t a choice. When we are caught in a strong emotional tide, we may be operating from a place so young within us we do something that our normal, adult self wouldn’t do. But, ulitmately, moving beyond that — reactive — way of being is, well, a choice. An important thing to remember, however, is that it’s not a choice. It’s a series of choices. Again and again and again. Maybe forever.

The choice is ours1.

  1. Self-aware cheesy ending. Was all I got right now.