Fishing Lessons

And here is a revelation I have come to embrace: bliss, the present moment is more than a fleeting feeling or a momentary escape. It is a gateway—a sacred threshold to the vast expanse of existence beyond this earthly plane. I believe that life does not unfold in a simple linear path, from birth to death, but that the past, present, and future are all happening simultaneously, layered like threads in an intricate tapestry. Each life, each experience, exists as part of this eternal now, intersecting across dimensions. When you sit in true bliss, in the stillness of your being, you align yourself with the harmony of this greater reality. Bliss is not only the quiet at the heart of all things; it is a portal to the infinite. In that moment of peace, when your soul breathes freely, you step into the timeless. You connect with the versions of yourself that have lived before, that are living now in other realms, and that will come into being. You tap into the universal thread that links all ...

 Social Media influences you at a deep molecular level. In the realm of quantum mechanics, there's this fascinating phenomenon known as the double-slit experiment. When particles, these tiny quanta of matter, are observed, they behave differently than when they're left to their own devices. They change course, alter their path, seemingly aware that they're being watched. Now, isn't that an uncanny mirror to our own lives? Because, after all, aren't we, too, just particles, swirling and dancing in the grand cosmos? You see, people are much like those particles. When we know we're being observed—on social media, in the public eye—we put on a show, we change our behavior. We become something other than our true, unobserved selves. I've been down that road before, a road where I was watched, rated, and followed. And you might ask, was that the real 'me'? Or was it simply a version molded by the gaze of others? In my personal Double Slit Experiment , I ch...

Consider yourself a piece of a puzzle. Each piece is unique, already shaped perfectly to fit into the grand design of life. There is no need to change its shape or color; it simply needs to find its place. So, too, with you—there is no such thing as self-improvement in the way we often think of it. You are already complete, already perfect as you are, an exquisite expression of the universe. As I reflect on my own journey to success, I realize that I am, in essence, the same person I was when I started. My strengths and weaknesses remain largely unchanged. I didn’t “find myself” in some profound way, nor did I dramatically improve my weaknesses. I simply discovered where I fit, where my natural qualities were best suited.  It’s like a fish searching around the desert, feeling out of place, thinking something must be wrong with it. No matter how hard it tries to turn its flippers into legs, it will never find the success of a camel. And drop that camel into the ocean, and you’ll see...

Meditation is a doorway, but not one that leads to some glittering prize or blissful escape. If you sit down to meditate with the hope of feeling better, of becoming “more,” you’ve already set a trap for yourself. You’ve brought a hungry mind into a space meant to be empty. True meditation isn’t about adding, gaining, or feeling “better.” It’s about dissolving all of that. The real work of meditation is not found in the quiet corner or in some holy retreat but in the humdrum of daily life, especially when the going gets rough. The act of life itself, in all its flawed and tangled forms, is where the practice reveals itself. It’s not in the sitting and breathing that the fruits are borne but in the moments when we’re struggling—when dishes are piled in the sink, tempers flare, and patience wears thin. In those ordinary moments, the subtle clarity of meditation can show up as a simple realization: the power of presence, of seeing things just as they are. When you let go of the need to be...

Ah, life is a curious journey, isn’t it? Along the way, we encounter certain souls—companions, if you will—who agreed long before we took this earthly form to accompany us. Not in ease or comfort, but in the most challenging of ways. These are not merely friends or adversaries; they are Initiators. Souls who, with firm hands and unwavering purpose, guide us back to the path when we stray too far into the wilderness of our own illusions. You see, the ego is a marvelous storyteller, spinning tales of grandeur, weaving intricate webs of self-deception. It would have us believe that these bumps and nudges from our Initiator, are acts of malice or domination. But let us pause, quiet the noise of our restless minds, and reflect: Are these challenges not precisely what we need to strip away what no longer serves us? Are they not the chisels that carve us into the best version of ourselves? Now, there is a fine distinction—a critical one—between an initiator and a dictator. Both will wear you ...

You see, there is a strange phenomenon in the way we relate to the world, a kind of “habitual blindness” that settles in with time. It’s as if we are all walking through a garden, marveling at the beauty of the flowers, the vibrancy of the colors, the fragrance of the air — and yet, after a while, we no longer notice it. The petals lose their charm. The scent fades into the background. We simply become accustomed to the beauty, and before long, we expect it, as though it’s something owed to us. Take, for instance, the beautiful place you find yourself living in. When you first arrive, every corner, every street, every sunset seems magical, like a gift from the heavens. But before long, the mountains lose their majesty, the river ceases to flow with wonder, and you pass by the very things that once filled you with awe, without even noticing. Familiarity breeds expectation, and expectation, my friends, breeds ingratitude. I had a small lesson in this recently. Outside the place where I w...

Ah, my friends, let us talk about the glorious, wiggly nature of existence. The world, after all, is not a straight-edged machine but a grand, undulating dance. And so are you—wiggly through and through! But sometimes, it feels as though that wiggle gets stuck. A great storm brews within you, with your thoughts like howling winds, whipping about, conjuring stories and half-truths, binding you in loops of “what ifs” and “should haves.” Your poor body, the wise old friend standing right there, is waiting—oh so patiently—at the end of the line. And what is this body? It is your tether to the present moment, to the eternal now. It hums with the infinite intelligence of the universe, the rhythm of stars and oceans. Yet, the mind, busy with its chatter of past regrets and future anxieties, places it last in line, behind a cacophony of imagined woes and noisy headlines from a world spinning out of reach. So, what to do when you feel overwhelmed? When the mental noise becomes a marching band o...

Imagine, if you will, a person. A father. A creator. For three long, grueling years, he poured himself into a vision. Brick by brick, he raised a building for his business—not just a structure of wood and stone, but a monument to his dreams. His sweat seeped into the foundations, his late nights etched into the beams. Along the way, he met good people who lent a hand or a kind word, but the journey was no less hard. His wife, his children—they bore the weight, too, as they watched him labor under the sun, day after day, for a future they all believed in. Then, one evening, just a week after the grand completion of his masterpiece, the family sat down to dinner. Laughter filled the room, the kind that only comes after years of shared toil and triumph. But the warmth of their meal was interrupted by the acrid scent of smoke. They rushed outside, and there it was: the business, the labor of years, engulfed in flames. Fire danced over the timbers as if mocking their effort. The family froz...