Another World Is Probable

I, like many, have been amused and surprised by the Louvre heist. Instead of focusing on the heist itself or the ethics surrounding museum acquisition, theft, etc., I want to talk about why I think the story is so compelling. The museum heist is giving major trickster energy. More in this week's post.

I can say unequivocally that “happily ever after” has screwed me up. A young part of me latched onto the idea that if I just do xyz, I’ll be happy forever. No more tears, no more sadness, no more hard moments – just frozen in a perpetual state of happiness until I die. We’re sold this narrative over and over again, but, well, life isn’t like that.

I was never a Girl Scout but you’d think I was because I’m always prepared. Not only do I have an earthquake kit, I also have a camping stove so I can still eat cooked food in that circumstance. If you need something, I probably have it. One time, I was in the car with someone who realized her food was undersalted, and I literally pulled out a mini salt shaker from my purse. Why am I like this? Because thinking ahead, preparing, and planning make me feel safer.

I watched a clip of Netflix’s “Famous Last Words: Jane Goodall” and started tearing up. That woman was an icon, a messenger of hope, and someone who remained consistent until her dying breath. She exemplified neohumanism, a concept in my spiritual tradition, that begs the question, “What is the boundary of your identity?” More in this week's post.

As we’re finishing the Jewish High Holidays, I think it’s only fitting to share a concept I learned about recently. In Jewish mysticism, there’s an idea that in every generation, 36 people hold up the world. These lamed-vavniks do not themselves know they are one of the 36, and no one else does either. What intrigues me about this concept is that it makes each and every person important. More in this week's post.

I’m having a tough time with the impermanence of things. The good things in my life I want to lock in little glass jars and preserve them for all eternity. What’s funny is I have a similar reaction to the bad things. Not that I want to preserve them for all eternity, but rather it feels like they’ll be with me for all eternity. There is no sense that this too shall pass. More in this week's post.

What a week. Lots of grief on a societal level, but also a personal one. I’m reminded of how human we are. Of how we’re all in this together. As Ram Dass says, “We’re all just walking each other home.” More in this week's post.

Last week, I wrote about a portal of transformation. How the grief I’m feeling is changing me into someone new. However, the reality is, I’m not a butterfly yet. Instead, I very much identify with the chrysalis stage. More in this week's post.Also, here is the link to the Scientific American article: Scientific American

I’ve been grieving and am reminded of a few things. One, grief is a portal, transporting us back to previous hurts that were not mourned. A dog dying may stir up grief about not only that dog, but childhood wounds of not feeling fully loved because the dog did what parents could not. The event (the dog’s death) is a portal, opening a way to previous losses as well. That’s why grief can feel so overwhelming, so outsized, because often it’s about a mix of things.

I read a letter on Facebook the other day from E.B. White (the author of Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little) to a man who wrote to him in despair over the bleakness of the human race. I loved the letter and wanted to share it here.Also, here's the BBC article I reference.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about fairness, or rather its opposite. How it’s not fair that people we love die. Or that fascist leaders are calling the shots. Or that the world literally and figuratively burns so a few companies can increase their profits. It’s not fair. More in this week's post.

When I ride the bus, it exposes me to people and situations I might not otherwise encounter. On Wednesday, I rode the bus and felt like crying hearing the stories around me. As tears started to leak from my eyes, a woman walked on the bus and sat in front of me. Her shirt said “love” down both sleeves. In that moment, I cried even harder because it struck me that love is the container for all things. More in this week's post.

This is the most unusual post I’ve written in the 17 years of this blog because instead of discussing spirituality or a lesson I’m learning, I want to tell you about my new favorite TV show.

It’s been truly strange around my neighborhood for the last few days, and I’m not reacting the way I thought I’d react – or the way other people are predicting I’d react. On Thursday, my friend Michael was standing in the doorway and said, “Do you know that guy?” A young man was hopping the fence that separates my apartment complex from my neighbors. I didn’t know him. More in this week's post.

I’m currently in Denmark at an economic conference so it seems only fitting to share this post I wrote in 2009. Many things are different – I no longer work for a magazine full-time or live in San Francisco – but my dreams remain the same. Enjoy.This morning, I had a nightmare the magazine I work for folded. That created a ripple effect whereby I couldn’t pay my rent because I have pretty much zero savings.

I’m currently traveling and never have I identified more with the Charles Dickens line, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” The lows are low (no clean clothes for 48 hours! Diverted plane! An unexpected six-hour bus ride!) but the highs are also high. More in this week's post. (Oh and the rainbow in question is the picture with this post.)

Many years ago, I had a conversation with one of my closest friends about enlightenment. We compared our approaches – how I live in idealism, fantasy, and move toward the light. He told me his approach is more like crawling down the back of a scaly beast until he comes full circle at its snout. More in this week's post.

As we’re approaching the July 4th holiday, a time that supposedly celebrates freedom and independence, I'm wondering, what does it mean to be free? More in this week's post.

So often when I hear or see depictions of marriage, it’s about finding a companion to build a life with, someone you’ll love forever, your best friend, the person you’ll turn to in times of joy and sorrow. However, what I don’t often hear discussed is how marriage can enhance spiritual growth. More in this week's post.

I’m editing a fascinating book about judgment. I can’t quote from it because, hi, it’s unpublished and also not my writing, but I can talk about the general ideas and also quote from others. My client makes the case that when we judge other people, it’s often because we aren’t tending to the vulnerable parts of ourselves. The parts that need to be met with love and care. For instance, if I say, “He’s so lazy,” it’s likely there’s a part of me that’s sad because I long to rest. But instead of holding that grief – that I desire to rest and feel unable to do so – I’m projecting and calling that man lazy. And judgment of any kind, toward others or the self, breaks connection with our own heart, to paraphrase Tara Brach. More in this week's post.