Your Life on Purpose

Today, I’d like to share with you a story that I haven’t shared with many people. It involves my Placenta, Star Constellations and Ego-less Existence. It’s what I learned while floating in a sensory deprivation chamber for 90 minutes.

Here we go:

I closed the door behind me and looked down at my new home: a one-foot deep tub of salt water meant to float my body and deprive me of my senses for the next 90 minutes. I laid down in the dense salty tub, ready to float into bliss, as the lights dimmed and the soft music that once filled the room drifted off into the abyss that now enveloped my sight.

Utter blackness.

Utter silence.

Utter weightlessness.

I had heard about floatation chambers quite often, as they continue to pop up in cities across the world like the one-time ubiquitous oxygen bars of the 1990’s. But unlike the O2 bars which promised a bit of relaxation, floatation chambers (a.k.a. sensory deprivation chambers) are said to offer unparalleled relaxation, detoxification, and a trip into the realms of higher consciousness.

Principal researcher Dr. Peter Suedfeld has devoted his work to studying the effects of sensory deprivation since leaving Princeton in the 1960s. His research continues to find how a float in a chamber can help treat chronic pain, high blood pressure, and autonomic nervous system problems. Other researchers, like Glenn Perry (one of the first to build and sell tanks), have shared the meditative benefits of a flotation chamber. When the senses are deprived, a person is more easily able to meditate since the aches and pains of the body are gone. This helps reach what yogis call Samadhi — a state of blissful awareness.

So, why did I wait so long before giving a float serious thought? Because I was scared. I like being in control (which is something I think you can relate to).

Also, an urban legend floats around sensory deprivation of a man who lost his sanity and murdered his lover that night. That alone was enough to keep me away from the salty bath.

My friend Mike — a many-time floater and bliss-seeker — told me that his first float ended with him convinced that Planet of Apes was not fiction, but real — as real as the hardwood door that separated the flotation chamber from the apes outside who controlled the planet. After creaking open the door, Ian discovered not apes manning the front desk of the floatation center, but a few petite women in yoga pants. Not exactly the formidable opponents he expected.

While I can’t say that I left the float chamber convinced apes had taken over, I did share my own transcendental experiences that could make for the next great existential novel.

Like meditation can often be, the first twenty or so minutes in the float (it’s very tough to actually conceptualize time in a sensory deprivation chamber) dragged on like paint drying. While time seemed to slow down, my mind raced like a Formula One driver and I heard the inner sound of my mind spinning like a DJ at a meditation-fused house party.

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Then I dipped into thinking back to my youth. And by youth, I mean floating in the primordial amniotic ooze with my placenta.

Floating there weightless, it reminded me a lot of what being a fetus must have felt like. But it didn’t feel like I was fabricating this reflection. I literally thought back to feeling what it was like as a fetus, floating there for nine months weightless, bouncing around in the womb with the comfort in knowing that everything I needed in life was being taken care of by God through my birth mother’s nutrients in this wonderful miracle we call birth.

I then thought about growing old. It occurred to me how strange that we often think of life as a period of years where we grow up through adolescence then grow old and die, when it can also be looked at as a time of continuous growth that transcends the physical existence.

Even though the body may die, our soul grows beyond the physical. Perhaps through Jungian spiritual archetypes, what we learn in this life is imprinted on our soul and carries on into the next.

Herein lies the ability to choose evolution. Our mind can continue to evolve (through mindful habits like meditation) to experience nirvana and the interconnectedness of all beings.

Perhaps we may truly be made of star stuff, as Carl Jung often alluded to.

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I blinked. Then blinked again. Were my eyes open? Or closed? I truly couldn’t tell. I began to see stars, and then constellations form as if I were watching the blood vessels dance when we stare at the back of our eyelids.

I moved my arms and legs into constellations, floating there like I were in space.

Weightless — like the soul.

I realized that here I was floating in a salty tub, but I couldn’t feel anything. I was weightless and not distracted by body aches and pains. Gravity no more.

Here I was, the first time, having a conversation with my soul separate from the body. For the first time, I felt like I was a spirit having a bodily experience, not the other way around.

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I thought of a question that’s been on my mind. If a person weighs the same before and after they die, but they are not there anymore, what is it that we call “I”? Where did the self go? Did the soul just float away?

Enter the ego.

I began to see the physical body as a shell that carries us out through a life to teach the soul a lesson or a series of lessons. I thought of my studies in anthropology and marketing and how we as a culture have come to behave in a way that favors the physical body and not the soul. We’ve come to think that a commodity will bring happiness, when a physical object cannot feed the soul. The soul is only fed when the body follows one’s inspiration. By living inspired one is living “in spirit” and therein walking down its path on purpose.

I realized that meditation, much like the meditation in the floating chamber, helps one recognize the ego and tune into the soul and the interconnectedness of all beings.

I suddenly felt the oneness I have read about in the work of so many, including the many holy books such as the Bible, Quran, Torah, Upanishads, Bhagavad Gita, and the Tao Te Ching.

As the lights began to flicker on and a gently strumming sound emanated from the room’s speakers, one last thought entered my mind: What if we as a world culture focused more on the similarities between the world’s many religions instead of its differences? Where would that heightened level of consciousness take us as a species?

Well, that’s my story and I’d honestly love to hear what you think.

Yoda the cat keeps jumping on my lap with his mouse toy as we play fetch and I keep reminding him that it’s Your Life on Purpose work time. But he doesn’t seem to understand, so if you hear a mouse squeaking toy, that’s him saying hello.

I just poured a delicious cup of coffee and am thinking of my students who -- about to enter their last year of school- are struggling to find clarity in their life’s direction.

Today’s episode is all about finding clarity.

Because, let’s face it: we all feel a little lost at some point in time. I know I have before and it’s led to some of my favorite memories. It turns out, however, that this is a good sign. It’s a sign that we are pushing ourselves beyond status quo and hearing what Joseph Campbell calls “The Call to Adventure” or as I like to call it, The Call to Purpose.

It’s an inward journey. One that does slay dragons, meets mystical maidens and knights, and takes one far beyond the earlier reaches of adolescent maturity. It’s one’s collective evolution into a higher form of one’s self. A journey that from the observer may look nothing out of the ordinary, but on the inside involves miles of spiritual vagabonding.

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Feeling lost sucks. It feels like floating on a life raft in the middle of the ocean of life as you watch a shark fin circle around and around and around.

Try these paths the next time you feel a little lost:

1. Writing for the Purpose of Investigation

Yes, I’m a bit biased here, but writing is so often overlooked as a vehicle to draw out clarity in one’s life. Why does it work?

Because when we sit down to write (like in a journal), we bring to light meaning that has been inside us all the time.

Just 5 minutes a day, trust me, with one day setting aside a bit more time to let your mind dance.

This is what the Beat Generation writers are so famous for. Writers like Kerouac would hike to the top of a mountain, yell in splendor, then write feverishly in their journal writing down everything and anything that came up from the bottom of their mind.

You meet a new part of your self every time you sit down to write.

1. Meditation to Investigate The Senses

Like writing, when we sit down to meditate, we grow more confident in the uncomfortable. As the mind races, we pull the mind in with the smooth and steady inhale and exhale and allow muddy water to settle.

Just watch the TED talk by Amy Cuddy. Cuddy’s research shows us how when we move the body into postures that display confidence, our hormones shift into actually feeling more confident.

Meditation requires confident posture: spine stacked, shoulders gently rolled back, slight lift in the chest bone. Want to try meditation? Take a listen to a few meditations I made at yourlop.com or you can find them on Insight Timer.

1. Living From The Heart

The Yoga Sutras call this purusa. It basically means to practice two forms of love: self-love and compassion to others.

To live from the heart means to let go of the past and to stop beating oneself up and to send love to what has brought us harm.

During a meditation not too long ago, for instance, I couldn’t stop from thinking about the tiny bugs that have brought Lyme Disease into my family and caused my wife (and me by extension) so much grief and torment.

I kept imagining the bugs crawling throughout her body and felt carnal anger rise in me. So, instead of ignoring it, I focused on it intensely. I switched from hate to love.

What happened surprised me.

I immediately saw the Lyme spirochetes as living and breathing organisms just like myself.

I began to feel compassion for them. They need a host and require my wife’s body to fuel their life. They don’t mean any harm, but instead are seeking out clarity in their own primitive life.

Instead of wishing them dead, I felt love for them because I understood them.

I imagined a radiant light and with a newfound appreciation for the spirochetes, I imagined telling the spirochetes that they are no longer welcome.

Their harm is no longer welcome. They must move on.

Since this meditation, I’ve gained clarity on what Lyme Disease has taught me and my family. It’s deepened my love for my wife, fueled my desire for personal growth, and has brought to the forefront that which is important in my life: love, laughter, and gratitude.

1. Vicarious Learning

I’m a sucker for a good memoir. Why? Because unlike a personal development book like the many written by Dr. Wayne Dyer and Joseph Campbell (among others), a good memoir goes deeper into the anecdotes of another person’s human experience.

Through learning of another’s struggle or suffering — called dukkha in Sanskrit — we can gain clarity in our own lives.

Recently, I picked up the memoir, Brain on Fire, and have just a few pages left to finish it. I’m devouring this story because it relates so much to what I’ve seen my wife go through the past few years. A one-time writer for The New York Post, Susannah Cahalan, went from lexicon extraordinaire to brain-fogged flight risk in the psych ward in a matter of days. After many weeks of ambiguous doctor reports that summed up the hospitals confusion, doctors finally found out that inflammation of the brain caused Cahalan to lose her identity and motor function. Brain fog, lethargy, a roller coaster of emotions — this became the day-to-day for Cahalan.

This is not much different from what I’ve watched my wife go through. Reading Cahalan’s story, helps me empathize more with my wife. It helps me find clarity through compassion.

1. Letting Go to Float

Call it “Letting Go and Letting God” as Dr. Wayne Dyer used to say or call it Isvarapranidhana as Patanjali did thousands of years ago, it’s the same thing.

When we let go and realize that there’s a higher power at play, it’s a bit like learning to swim. When we first try to swim, we flail and exhaust our energy. Eventually, through practice and coaching, we learn how to let go into the buoyancy: we undulate our body efficiently so we can glide through water.

As long as we breathe, we float.

Thank you for joining me :)

I have to be honest. Many times I find myself so caught up in the future that I forget all that I already have with me.

Yesterday was one of those days where I drifted from a mindset of gratitude:

— As the beautiful Hudson Valley sun shone on my face, I couldn’t help but think about the beaches of Kauai once again.

— I did my first press into handstand last night, but I barely acknowledged this physical feat. Instead, I immediately thought about how one day I’ll be able to do what that Cirque Du Soleil guy on Instagram does in a one-hand handstand.

— When I scrolled through the internet to complete some much overdue work, advertisements callously reminded me that I don’t have enough and that I need that new gadget, a slimmer waistline, or a new job to get me to where I need to be in life to be truly happy.

And this happens over and over. Yesterday wasn’t the first time.

I’ve learned that it takes a conscious effort to focus the attention inward. Happiness is not something “out there” as the media overtly suggests, but rather it’s inside.

As my yoga teacher Liz Schulman reminded me the other day in yoga teacher training, sometimes the most spiritual path we can take is the journey within because it helps us see that we came into this life with everything we will ever need.

She said, ““The most spiritual thing we can do right now is to focus on what we have.” — Liz Schulman

I’m reminded that each morning we are born again and this reset button propels me forward. What I do today is what matters. Not what I did yesterday or will do tomorrow.

When I look at the sun today, I will be grateful that I can see the sun and feel its warmth when so many in the world will never get that experience.

When I scroll through the internet and an advertisement pops up, I will think of the many people in the world living on just one dollar a day. I will be grateful for the gadgets and clothing that I already have.

When I press into a handstand, I will thank myself for the many hours it took of dedicated practice to achieve this fluidity.

What helps me come back to a mindset of gratitude?

The breath.

When my mind begins to race, I know I need to come back to a deep and steady inhale and exhale. This pulls the mind back and allows the muddy water to settle.

Science teaches us that this type of breath — called Ujjayi or ocean breath in yoga — activates the parasympathetic nervous system which tells our fight-or-flight mechanisms to chill. When calm, we can then more easily acknowledge the present and live with gratitude.

As our world continues to grow more connected and even more information comes our way, it will undoubtedly be more difficult to live in the present.

Such is the evolution of society. But that’s where the act of choosing where to place our attention will come in. That’s where the art of gratitude will evolve the mind to further realize it’s unlimited potential.

That’s when we will one day fully realize that all that we need in life came with our first breath.

Thank you for joining me :)

I’d like to share a quick story about climbing fish and transformation. Not too long ago, my good friend Phil tried something in New York that no one has done before. He created a website that would connect people based on the books that have inspired them with the only requirement to meet for a conversation.

The idea came out of Einstein’s quote: “If you ask a fish to climb a tree, he’ll spend his whole life believing that he’s an idiot.”

I took part in the experiment and every week, I rode the train into New York City to enjoy a cup of coffee with a wide-range of people: some straight out of college, some homeless, some millionaires, and many in their 30s who took a chance on a major career shift. They shared their stories of transformation and their dreams for the future. One went from English teacher to Broadway producer, another from T-Shirt Designer to a world-traveling photographer, and then there was a photographer who hung up the camera to start a magazine company. The only constant was change.

These conversations were inspirational, of course, and here’s the lesson I learned through that experience.

We will transform over and over and over again. This is the definition of living.

Things will happen in life that will challenge our beliefs: we will cry, we will fall, but then we will learn to dance again. These events while on one hand traumatic can equally be viewed as an opportunity to open a new door.

In this dance, we transform. Don’t resist the transformation.

Later on today or tomorrow, try this. Find an old photo of yourself from when you were a little child and look into your eyes. Try to remember who you were back then and then think of how much you’ve changed.

This type of change will happen over and over and over again as we grow throughout life.

Life is a dance and to touch the future, you must become the future.

I just returned from a New York City and wanted to share with you a quick story. It involves a Jungian analysis workshop that I took part in and a sailboat.

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I must confess: I’m a recovering daydreamer. All my life, I’ve struggled to focus in on the present because my mind so quickly would drift to Neverland. In school, at work, in yoga class, in flight — these are just a few of the many times my mind has wandered.

Living in the present — to “be here now” — is the core of living mindfully. It turns out, however, that while tuning into the present is important, it’s also helpful to tune into the images that arise from our unconscious selves: in daydreams, dreams, or images that arise during a form of exercise like yoga.

What I’d like to explore with you today is what I learned in a Jungian analysis workshop I attended in New York and led by certified Jungian analysts, Morgan and Jenn Stebbins. Based off of Carl Jung’s exploration of the unconscious, I’d like to leave you with three helpful steps to use the images that arise in your life as a spotlight to brighten your path on purpose.

Try this...

1. Create Space for Images to Arise

Keep a journal handy to write down images that arise throughout your day. I use Evernote on my phone.

Write down the images that arise unintentionally, like that in a daydream. As you go throughout your day, train your brain to recognize when you are daydreaming and instead of pushing away from the dream, embrace it. Explore the images that come to your mind and jot them down in your notes.

Intentionally seek out images. In meditation, for instance, we’re typically taught to push away the images that arise so that we can focus on the breath. Instead, however, try paying attention to the images that arise and write them down after you complete your meditation. It’s okay if you forgot a few of them. Just jot down the ones that stuck with you till the end. Often times, I find a unique image to arise at the end that is far different from the first set of images that come to mind.

Keep a dream journal near your bed. When you wake up, instead of jumping right out of bed, try spending just three minutes to recall any dreams you had and write them down. Don’t be surprised when you start remembering more of your dreams after a couple weeks of doing this.

Exercise to find images. In yoga, for instance, certain asana poses that are difficult for me tend to cause my mind to daydream so as to avoid the discomfort of the position. Mindful yoga action would suggest to come back to the pose and not let your mind wander. Just once in awhile, reverse this, and see what images come to mind during the pose. Write them down.

1. Share An Image With Others

Choose one image to focus on (I’ll share mine in a bit). Share this image in a small group (2-3 people). It’s best if these people don’t know you very well so they can offer an objective point of view. Allow your group to talk out the possible symbolism of the image and do not offer any words. Instead, listen.  Perhaps you saw a wolf and while you think wolves are scary, your group focuses on how wolves may represent the loyalty of being in a pack, for instance.

1. Personally Reflect on the Image

Reflect on what others in your group said. Consider googling around and find what cultures in the past have said your image symbolically represents. Take all of this in and synthesize it with your own opinion and feelings surrounding the image. Write down any epiphanies that arise or just simply explore how this symbolic inquiry into the image could offer you direction in your life.

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Here’s what happened to me:

Many images came to mind during just a five-minute meditation. The last one stuck with me. I imaged a sailboat drifting in the ocean a few hundred yards from where I stood on the beach. Gray clouds hung overhead, fear clouded my mind, and when the cold dark water touched my toes, I stepped back. I wore a hoodie and pants and wanted to swim to the anchored sailboat.

I then shared this image with my small group. The two women in my group spoke of how the boat could represent movement with a sense of adventure. Since I felt I owned the boat, I own this adventure. Because I’m not wearing a wetsuit, they said, or properly equipped to swim through the cold water to the boat, there’s some preparation that needs to be done.

Okay, interesting, I thought. Then I went home and synchronicity (as Jung would call it) happened.

I walked into my office and noticed a coffee cup out of place on a shelf near my desk. On the front of the cup, which just so happened to be a gift from my wife, read the inscription “Adventurer” just below the image of an anchor. Interesting, I thought.

Then I opened up my email and at the top of the inbox was a message from a NY Times reporter I met two years ago. In the message, she told me that a friend of hers is moving from New Zealand to New York and wanted to know a bit about the public schools in my area. She asked if I could offer some advice to them since I know the schools in New York quite well. Oh yeah, she mentions near the end, the husband is a competitive sailor and since I learned how to sail on the Hudson River, could I perhaps also offer a bit of local advice on the sailing scene?

A sailboat image at the workshop, the coffee cup with an anchor out of place, the email that inquired about sailing advice — that was enough for me to pay attention.

So, what does this all mean? How will I use this image to help guide me down my path? Stay with me to find out. It starts with me getting in the water and preparing for an epic swim.

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What about you? What images come to your mind and how could they perhaps help guide you down your path on purpose? It’s okay if images don’t come up right away. Just remember to share the image with a small group of people and then take in what you learn from listening to others. You may not get any epiphany, but this certainly will help you walk forward.

Tune in with an open heart, open mind, and listen.

Thank you for joining me :)

So, many of you know that I recently received my 200 hour yoga teacher certification over a 6 month intensive training regiment. And I’d like to share with you something I learned through my experience of spending months twisting and lengthening my body so that I looked more like Gumby.

This story is about finding balance, literally and figuratively in our lives. It’s so easy to go the extremes of lethargy or overdoing it. The middle path is always a lot freakin harder (well, for me at least)

I laid on my back in a spinal twist to the left and breathed deep to stretch as far as I could. I had just committed to my yoga journey and gosh darn-it, I was going to be a real yogi.

My instructor came over and offered an assist. With a grunt, I said yes. She helped me twist deeper and, after three deep breaths, I had twisted so much that I envisioned my body to look like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man from above.

I could go deeper. More, more, more — my mind screamed.

So I grunted some more, squeezed my abs, and forced a deeper twist. And here, my friends, is where I learned my first yoga lesson.

Forcing leads to injury, injury leads to pain, pain leads to suffering. I popped a rib.

Forcing back the tears, I embraced that stoic machismo that young boys quickly learn the first time they cry on the football field. So, when I heard the “pop” and felt a stabbing pain in my stomach, I looked around to see if anyone else noticed. No one did, so I continued on with the class and quietly suffered on. My shavasana was a mental sufferfest.

I left the class and immediately called my physical therapist. She suggested I bring my knees to my chest — even though this would hurt — and roll back-and-forth. So I did just that, popped that little ol’ rib back into place, and made a mental note to never, ever, do that again. A sore stomach for the days following served as my post-it note reminder.

My body had paid the penalty for this mental foul.

Now, whenever I catch myself pushing too hard, my rib speaks a few words of advice: find balance between pushing and letting go.

Or as Patanjali called it thousands of years ago: Sthira and Sukha. One must balance the polarity of working hard and easing back. Go too deep and you’ll injure yourself, don’t go deep enough and you won’t grow. And this, of course, extends beyond yoga and flows into life.

As a yoga teacher of mine, Richard Villella, put it: “A river when it’s overflowing can move from a peaceful to a destructive force. Our mind is the same and when our mind is overflowing with noise it can become a destructive force.”

Going out for a run is a great idea, but if you haven’t run in years, would it be wise to go run a marathon? Probably not.

Working on a new entrepreneurial venture is a noble journey, but, when coupled with working a full-time job, does it hinder your ability to be a good parent, spouse, or friend?

A cup of coffee is okay, but two shots of espresso in a cup of coffee? Well I’m learning today that is totally overdoing it!

The lesson I’m learning with this whole Sthira and Sukha business is that when I find this balance on my journey, I end up reaching a destination that goes far beyond the map I originally looked at. My bubble of potential pops, the world is suddenly round instead of flat, and I realize I've tapped into a universal truth: There’s an infinite potential inside all of us.

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What about you? Has there been a time in your life when you pushed too hard and injured yourself? How do you find balance and float onward without becoming a destructive force?

The air smells of suntan lotion and barbecue sauce and after spending the majority of the past day walking through an outdoor sculpture park these words from Michelangelo continue to swirl in my mind. He once wrote when asked about his sculpting:

“The marble not yet carved can hold the form of every thought the greatest artist has.”

“The marble not yet carved can hold the form of every thought the greatest artist has.”

Let’s dissect Michelangelo’s words and talk a bit about creating art. I mean, what does creating art mean anyway?

I just poured some fancy Kauai peaberry coffee and am enjoying the sweet maple syrup that a student gifted me before the close of the  past school year.

I’ll confess… I may (okay I do) work too much. I’m either writing something, teaching something, or thinking of something work-related.

But a recent conversation with my friend Vlad at the Stormking Art Center in New York — a wide expansive field where gigantic abstract sculptures contrast with the rolling hills of the Hudson River Valley — put me in irons. We asked each other this simple question:

Are we creating art?

I couldn’t honestly answer the question. Why? Because I had my head down with so much work since the beginning of the year that I couldn’t tell if I had created art or just kept busy.

In the past six months, for instance, I taught writing full-time, graduated from a VERY intensive yoga-teacher training program, built up the marketing platform for a brilliant online school, and spent my weekends writing.

I’ve done a lot, for sure, but did I create art?

1. Stealing Sideways

Picasso said that good artists copy and great artists steal.

Why is stealing harder? Because when we steal as an artist, we first must really come to know that which we are stealing.

Picasso, for instance, didn’t just decide to draw some cubes on canvas. Instead, he devoured art history like a bowl of cereal. He took in this knowledge, stole little bits from here and there and then created anew.

Tim O’Brien, one of my favorite American writers, also steals. He steals tangentially. He marinates in the syntax of other writers from other genres and backgrounds and then composes one true sentence and another and another and, when deconstructed, his writing mirrors those who he studied. I have to admit, that’s how I write, as well, which is why this past sentence includes one of O’Brien’s favorite literary devices: polysyndeton, the repetitive use of conjunction for dramatic effect (e.g. and, or, but, etc).

Other writers from Kerouac to Maslow stole much of their ideas by taking eastern philosophy and molding it into something westerners could digest.

The question is, what can you steal? What do you know so well which you could take out of context and re-frame it in a way that inspires a new crowd?

1. What Are You Carving?

There’s a marble stone that only you can carve, your Excalibur per say, as Michelangelo reminds us: “The marble not yet carved can hold the form of every thought the greatest artist has.”

There’s a genius inside of you comprised of what you do and what comes your way and how you act and react. It’s your lotus flower that rises out of the beautiful muck in your life.

The question isn’t if you’ve found your marble stone. The question is, have you picked up the chisel?

1. Standing Naked in the Rain

Creating art comes from being real and vulnerable. Sounds easy, but it’s not. Why? Because creating art is dangerous.

There’s no guarantee that what you create will impact people.

There’s no guarantee that it will bring in money.

There’s no guarantee that you won’t fail miserably and get laughed at by the whole world.

Creating art is life on a pogo stick.

Creating art is a dance in the rain.

3 Ways to Find Focus Amid Distraction

It’s a holiday weekend in my local village as I sit here and record this podcast. In just a few hours fireworks, BBQs, and picnics will have dot the streets like stars in a country sky. It’s quite a beautiful display of community pride and family love, yet as much as I tried to plan ahead, I still find myself with some work I need to finish before diving into the festivities.

Does this ever happen to you?

Perhaps if you work from home like I do much of the year, you also struggle with finding work/life balance when there isn’t a clear punch-in/punch-out clock.

So, how does one find focus amid the Sirens of distractions?

1. Turn Off Media and Multitask No-More

There’s no such thing as background noise. There’s noise and then there’s silence.

If the television is on and a person is on the phone, for instance (like I caught myself doing yesterday), the mind struggles to find clarity. Background noise turns mindful thinking into white noise confusion.

Multitasking is dead. Tuning into the present is very much alive.

Try this: Next time you go for a drive, focus on just driving. Next time you go out to dinner, leave the phone in the car and challenge your friends to do so, as well. Tune into the point of meeting up for a meal: connect with those you love. Next time you catch yourself doing a bunch of things at once, drop it all and go for a ten-minute walk. And just walk, becoming aware of the breath and the minutia of your movement.

1. Craft a To-Do List

I have my wife to thank for this one. Every afternoon when I come over to my wife’s office, I always see the same array: beautiful jewelry hanging around, pages of her novel writing on the table, and a checklist on her desk.

Written in my wife’s beautiful calligraphic script, she checks off the needed tasks for the day. When the list is complete, she can breathe easy, and there will be no guilt-trips when she turns on one of her favorite television shows later on.

Try this: Create a list of 3-5 tasks you want to accomplish by the end of the day. Get them done as quick as possible and then take a walk. Tell yourself during the walk that you’ve done everything you needed to do that day. Anything else is just a bonus. More than likely you’ll do more than that list, but without unnecessary stress.

1. Take A Break To Tune Into The Breath

One of the most valuable tools yoga has provided me with is learning how to take a real breath. In modern society, we’ve learned how to take consistent shallow breaths.  Shallow breathing leads to shallow expression.

And here’s the kicker: Mladen Golubic, a physician in the Cleveland Clinic's Center for Integrative Medicine, teaches us that when you take in a full and complete breath with, for example, a 4-second inhale and 4-second exhale, your parasympathetic nervous system overrides the sympathetic nervous system and your cortisol level decreases. Translation: Deep breathing has been scientifically proven to calm the mind, body, and nerves.

Try this: Set a timer every 30 minutes to take several deep and steady breaths. In my personal experience, this has helped me return to a clear focus with a calm mind.

How about you? How do you stay mindful and focus during the holidays when you still have a bunch to do?

As the school bells begin ringing for the start of another school year, let’s pause for a moment and think about something that we often don’t reflect on.

Just what is school for?

Is it to get a job? To evolve our brain? To connect with other intellectuals? Or what?

We’ve built a culture that sends its children to school for, at minimum, 20 percent of their life expectancy and we value education on a beautiful visceral level.

We’re willing to spend more on a college tuition than a home mortgage without the guarantee that a degree will even put a roof over our heads.

But do we ever stop to really consider, what is school for?

So I’d like to begin that conversation and ask you: What do you think school is for? Just leave a comment below or reach out at [email protected].

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A Brief History of School

We hunted and gathered as storytelling animals and schooled each other around the campfire. Our grandparents were our teachers. Then we developed more nuclear families and farmed. School was in the home or in a community center, mostly for men to teach them the trade. Women were taught how to be women (an attractive catch for a man, a nurturing mother).

Beyond the teenage years, higher education didn’t really exist for the average person. The average person had to worry about food, shelter, and water and focus on providing for the family to survive.

Now, in a land where we can get enough calories from a bar that’s dispensed from a vending machine, we’ve moved beyond building sustenance and could then ask ourselves: what is my purpose?

It’s allowed for an intellectual evolution where people all around the world dig deep within themselves to create an enriching life that serves a deeper, more existential purpose. It’s truly a beautiful time to be alive.

Enter modern-day higher education.

Reaching back all the way to Socrates, higher education used to be for the elite or the privileged. (Of course, there were some vagabonds who ditched material possessions to live a minimal monk-like life in search for a higher understanding of life.)

Before World War II, college was only for the elite. And it wasn’t a place to help people get a job. It was a place for intellectual stimulation, philosophy, the study of literature, and elitist fraternity.

No one took out student loans.

After WWII, the U.S. government began to give loans to soldiers to go to college and during the Vietnam War era, college for the masses began. It became a new normal, a new tradition.

Counter-culture movements spread throughout college campuses inspiring radical thinkers like Steve Jobs to “think different.” College became the go-to place to be the change you wanted to see in the world. As Nelson Mandela put it, “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”

College was the vehicle to help someone improve their social ranking and achieve the American Dream. Since you could learn anything (with a loan, of course), you could become anything you wanted to be. Or so many were told.

That worked for a bit... until the present.

We’ve tipped the scale in the other direction and push our children through school with the best of intentions, but have lost a sense of why we’re doing it.

Incredible teachers and school leaders struggle to motivate children and help them live extraordinary lives in a school system that worked well for the factory-based industrial economy, but falls flat to help our children thrive in our current economy. And people don’t really have much of a choice in the public setting, especially since modern-day trends to have both parents work full-time make it difficult to return to a more personalized homeschool instruction. While there are great options in online schooling (and some not-so-good), that’s not possible for many working families.

But don’t take my word for it.

Harvard lecturer Tony Wagner’s research suggests that more and more students are dropping out of school, not because they can’t perform well, but, rather, because they are bored.

Krishnamurti pushes us in Think on These Things to consider that education is “not just about passing examinations, take a degree, get married and settle down,” but also to dive in and discover the extraordinary beauty of life. Education is everything but the  high-stakes testing which saturates The Common Core.

Seth Godin argues in Stop Stealing Dreams that we need to transform education: “If school’s function is to create the workers we need to fuel our economy, we need to change school, because the workers we need have changed as well.”

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Going Back To School

I can’t tell you how many of my former students, friends, and those I interview consider going back to school — myself included. Academia is a beautiful place. I love school.

I love learning and something tells me you do too. But do we really need to pay another 100k to get that doctorate?

Will that slip of paper really affirm that you are brilliant? Will it land you that job? Will it help you create something that matters?

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As the bells continue to ring this year, join me in thinking on these things. When we connect our dots looking backward, our school years will undoubtedly play a major role in shaping our lives.

But we could do better for our future generation.

As Wayne Dyer put it in The Power of Intention, “Creation acts upon the everlasting possibility that anything that is thought of, can be.” So let’s embrace a deeper sense of what’s possible.

Let’s work to help make this possibility happen.

What Blake Teaches Us About Living On Purpose

It’s a beautiful day here in New York and as I sip an overly sweetened espresso with chaga mushroom (yes, I know, I’m knew to chaga too for its health properties so we’ll see if I get really goofy at the end of this podcast).

I’ve been reading through my old poetry books and  I’d like to share with you some thoughts and reflections on William Blake’s work.

When I was in college, Blake’s work taught me a lot about what it means to truly live life on purpose.

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Now famed writer, poet, painter, and philosopher, when William Blake picked up a pen or a paintbrush, he got about as much recognition for his work as a squirrel does for digging up an acorn.

The man died without a clue as to how much influence his work would eventually carry. Now, just walk down the halls of any college literature or philosophy wing and you’ll likely hear a reference to Blake. He’s often stated to be one of the most influential romantic poets of all time.

Largely criticized and often viewed as mad, Blake produced what now has been pivotal work that shifted how society thinks. Through his work, he showed us the sublime: those divine aspects of life that shake one with terror while equally beholding the majesty of existence.

Like the great white shark who gently glides through the water with such grace, yet is capable of terrible destruction. Or the sun which warmly sprouts a plant to life and causes another to wilt with heat. The sublime is that divine relationship of shock and awe, like standing on a field just shy of a tornado’s path.

Blake inevitably died leaving little money to his name, yet his flesh went to the grave while his best work continued to thrive.

What can we learn from Blake about living our lives on purpose?

1. Seek Approval from Inside

Fact: our need to find acceptance from others is what makes us invisible.

Fact: everything we need in life came with our first breath.

Blake continued to churn out his work under the belief that his body was just a mere vessel for the divine to work through. He’s not alone in this regard. Many famous artists and scientists since then, from Michelangelo to Dyer, have shared similar words.

Perhaps Da Vinci put it best when we said, “Where the spirit does not work with the hand there is no art.”   

1. Embrace the Sublime

Blake taught us that the greatest beauty in life is the relationship between the opposites: when the good meets the bad, when the light meets the dark, when the other meets in the middle.

It’s in this relationship that we may come closest to living our lives on purpose.

Choosing to pursue an entrepreneurial venture instead of a 9-5 is equally terrifying as it is exhilarating, much like many of the entrepreneurs I interviewed on my previous podcast, The Traveling Cup.

Choosing to stand up for your beliefs when in a crowd of opposing beliefs is equally liberating and dangerous.

Speaking one word of truth may cut deep into another’s skin.

1. Embrace the Critic

Like Aristotle taught us, any work worth something will undoubtedly face its fair share of criticism.

Understand that if you are receiving criticism, it’s a sign that you are doing work that matters.

You are getting others to think.

You are standing out.

You define beautiful.

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What about you? I know when I first read Blake’s work (one of my favorites being the poem, The Smile which I’ll share after our dance break), I didn’t quite get the sublime. It wasn’t until years after college did I appreciate Blake’s thoughts on existence. Such is the nature of living I guess, where with age comes experience and with experience comes a deeper understanding of love, living, and laughter.