Hi Friends,

Before we get into today’s essay, I’m so excited to announce that my good friend and brilliant meditation teacher, David Gandelman and I are holding a retreat in Spain this year from August 31st to September 6th, about forty-five minutes outside of Barcelona, near the Montserrat Mountains. It’s called Live Your Truth, and we’re going to write, meditate, practice breathwork, eat fabulous food, explore the mountains, and make many new friends. It’s going to be so beautiful, in all the ways. Go HERE for more information.

This past Saturday was ripe with connection. In the afternoon I saw the film, The Whale. It’s five days later and I’m still thinking about it, feeling it. I found it to be heartwarming and heartbreaking and exceptionally human. The film played in a medium-sized theater with only a handful of us in attendance. I was there alone. I chatted for a few minutes with a man named Alex, who sat a few seats away from me. He introduced himself when he took his seat and fairly quickly let me know he was escaping his husband and two kids for a few hours, but mainly his husband. Relationships are hard, he said.

The lights dimmed. Enjoy the movie, I said to Alex, and nestled under the hood of my sweatshirt, which is how I like to watch movies in the theater. About an hour and forty-five minutes later, more or less ten minutes from the film’s ending, I began to cry. Hard. I’m not going to give anything away, but this generally heartbreaking film gradually opened and then broke my heart completely. For maybe fifteen seconds I tried to stifle my cries, because they were fast becoming sobs. And then I heard Alex crying too. Hard. The two of us sobbed through the final ten minutes of the film, and the credits, and as the lights came up in the theater. We cried together that entire time. Not that either of us needed permission to sob, but we gave it to each other with our willingness to feel what we were feeling, and to let go. It was beautiful.

I was seconds away from saying to Alex, How about a hug?, but soon after the lights came up I felt him become self-conscious. He stood up, said My God that was crazy in a booming voice and then left the theater. I composed myself somewhat for the two minutes it took me to leave the theater but the moment I stepped outside burst into tears again.

I may be projecting my experience onto Alex (okay I’m certainly projecting my experience onto Alex) but I really feel like we merged at the end of that film. No separation between us. No minds. Just two humans with two inspired and broken hearts, letting ourselves feel. It was one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had at the movies.

Later that evening I went to my friend Ryan’s house for a small cocktail party. As I parked on the street in front of his house, I burst into tears again thinking about The Whale. When I say thinking about The Whale, what I really mean is feeling the heartbreak of the film as well as the sadness within me the film stirred up. I cry all the time watching movies and my tears are never just for the characters.

Along with me and Ryan there were five other gay men at his home. I genuinely liked each of them and connected most intimately with two. The first, Regg, is a psychic medium. I’m guessing he’s in his early 50s though he looks at least a decade younger, and speaks with a child-like effusiveness, like someone who sees how miraculous this reality is. He didn’t really start to embrace his psychic gifts until five years ago, at which time he quit his corporate job and decided to start giving readings to people. He’s still tentative when talking about what he does, not always knowing how people will respond to words like medium and psychic. I’m all about it, of course, and have already requested a session. What courage, though, to walk away from a successful career to let yourself be and do what you feel called to be and do. No matter what others think about it.

Nate is the other man I especially enjoyed meeting. He’s a massage therapist, probably 30ish, with a huge heart and a curious, open energy. He’s a seeker, like me, like many of you reading this. As the evening progressed, Nate became aware that I wrote Big Love. He told me he’d read it by the recommendation of his therapist. He said some nice things about the book I don’t remember, but he genuinely seemed to like it. Or he’s a gifted liar. In any case, I was reminded we often don’t know the ways in which our creativity, our work, our words, are affecting other people. In Big Love, I wrote, Maybe it’s not my job to focus on where my love and creativity land but on where they originate. To trust in source to guide my creation, and trust in life to do with it what it will. I’ve since had a massage with Nate and it was wonderful.

I went to bed on Saturday feeling fulfilled, excited to have sobbed with Alex at the theater and to have connected with Regg and Nate, as well as everyone else at Ryan’s. I cherish nature and spending time in the mountains and trees and my newly beloved high desert. And I cherish, even more, open-hearted connection with other humans, being reminded I am not alone even when my mind tells me so, reminded it’s possible to get real and honest and even messy with someone you only just met. When there’s a willingness to be vulnerable, that is. To see and be seen.

So much love to you all,

Scott

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Free Breathwork this Sunday

I’ll be guiding a free breathwork session for my friend Jacob Nordby’s Heal + Create community this Sunday, January 22nd, at 12pm PST / 3pm EST / 8pm GMT. It’s open to all. Go HERE to RSVP for this event.

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