Fishing Lessons

For:  Inner peace. Gratitude. Transformation  Find a safe and quiet space. Inform those who may depend on you that you will not be reachable for the next 45 minutes, for you are embarking on a journey beyond this plane of consciousness. Bring to mind an affirmation—a seed of intent to guide your practice. Close your eyes gently, and as you do, let your gaze subtly tilt upward, just above the horizon line, as if you’re beholding the peak of a majestic mountain. Now, with your mind’s eye, visualize the mountain. Begin at its base, and with each breath, gently ascend, allowing your awareness to rise with the contours of the earth. Move slowly, deliberately, until your focus reaches the summit. Pause here for a moment. Rest at the peak. Part 1: Physical Relaxation Picture the number 3 in your mind, three times. With each visualization, invite your body to relax and release. Bring your attention to the gentle hum of life coursing through your being. Begin at the scalp and work down...

Let us consider for a moment the business of keeping the body fit and the spirit well. Working out requires you to rise before the sun, to break a sweat, to summon up determination, and yes, perhaps even to venture into spaces where others are pushing themselves just as you are. Eating healthily, too, demands sacrifice and discipline. People might even look upon you with pity or judgment for being so fastidious. But what, really, is the alternative? Now, let’s look at the flipside: to neglect the body, to choose ease over health—this, too, carries a toll. One must still avoid foods, but for different reasons; one must still dedicate time and resources, but now it is spent on medicine, not wellness. One finds oneself surrounded by others in similar straits, all struggling under the weight of illness. So, you see, each choice carries its own version of difficulty. The difference lies in which path holds the promise of growth, of expansion. When you take up the challenge of health, you’re...

The lie is a curious creature. It starts so small, so subtle, much like a pebble tossed into a still pond. At seven years old, you tell a small lie — perhaps to avoid a scolding, or to protect someone’s feelings. And just like that, it’s done. Or so you think. But no, you’ve put it into your backpack. You see, the lie doesn’t vanish. It sits there, tucked away in the dark recesses of your being, growing heavier with each passing year. You might think it’s harmless — after all, what’s a little white lie? But as the years go by, that small pebble grows into a stone, and then into a boulder. Each lie you tell, whether to others or to yourself, adds weight to your soul. It is a burden, a shadow you carry through life, unseen by the world but ever-present within you. And each time you tell another lie, that backpack becomes heavier. The weight of those lies doesn’t just reside in your body — it resides in your spirit, in the way you move through the world. The longer you carry them, the mor...

Imagine, if you will, that you sat down in some infinite realm and took hold of a magical pen—a pen that could not only write words on a page but could shape experiences, events, moments of laughter and moments of sorrow. With this pen, you carefully wrote the story of your life, choosing the twists and turns, the highs and the lows, the lessons and the triumphs. And then, with a flick of cosmic intention, you released this book into the universe. It became a movie, each scene unfolding perfectly, effortlessly, as if it were meant to be. But then, something curious happened: your memory of crafting this story was wiped. Suddenly, the awareness that you had orchestrated it vanished. All that was left was you, stepping onto the stage of existence, ready to experience the film with no recollection of the author’s hand behind it. Being born, you see, was like pressing “play” on this intricate, divine script. The story was set, the movie rolling. And thus, here you are, seemingly without co...

What, indeed, is a crumb? We might think of it as merely a tiny piece of something larger, but let's explore this further. How small must a fragment become before we deem it a crumb? And if we take a crumb and split it, do we then possess two crumbs, or does it cease to be a crumb altogether? How many times can we divide a crumb before it is no longer recognizable as such? Now, consider the act of reassembling these crumbs. Can one, through some cosmic alchemy, piece them back together into their original form, or have they become something entirely new, something that transcends their origin? And if we look deeper, aren't we ourselves but a collection of cosmic crumbs—galactic dust gathered from the vast expanses of the universe? Stardust crumbs, each of us. Our very existence woven from the fragments of stars long extinguished, the detritus of the cosmos brought together to form this intricate dance of life. In this way, the humble crumb mirrors the nature of existence itself...