The impermanence of all things physical used to terrify me.
In the world I lived in, the drive was to create on the physical plane, so acknowledging the impermanence of all things physical really undermined what I held as important.
As I went on a more spiritual growth path, as I spend more time on the mat, my relationship with the physical started to shift.
As I became less attached to outcomes, I became less attached to the physical plane.
That shift, however slight, opened a crack up just enough for my relationship with impermanence to change; instead of causing fear, it began to heighten my appreciation of what is.
Here and now, this, has never been and will never be again.
How can that not be the most special ‘thing’ there is?
One of the greatest lies we tell ourselves is that we’re falling behind. That someone else is ahead.
As a young man I associated strength with force; louder voices, sharper opinions, firm lines in the sand.
There’s a strange kind of pride we’ve developed in being exhausted. But even lions, the king of the jungle, rest.
I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't have ambition.
We sometimes believe strength means self-sufficiency — that being independent means being isolated.
We often try to outrun the storm, emotionally, physically, spiritually.
We’re entering an age where machines do our thinking before we’ve even had a chance to try.
In church the other day, the pastor gave a sermon that really stuck with me. He talked about two people.