Hopeful Thinking

In 1975, a man by the name of Mihály Csíkszentmihályi coined the term “flow” for observation in the field of psychology. It began for him as a curiosity years before. He noticed that artists had a tendency to become completely engrossed in their work. Painting or creating for hours, even days, on end. Sometimes not sleeping, rarely eating, or bathing. Not just disregarding, but ignorant of the mundane entirely. They somehow had an ability to achieve a near-trancelike state while performing a task which they felt called to do. Many of us, probably all of us, at one time or another have experienced a bit of flow. A feeling of being so engrossed, so attuned with your task that even time has no real meaning. That’s flow. That’s being “in the zone.” This sweet spot occurs when a particular balance is achieved. We are more engrossed by tasks that are just challenging enough to keep things interesting. An engrossing challenge doesn’t exceed our skills, it matures them.  It’s like surfing ...

Spring is the great overcoming. The acknowledgement of truth both within us and within the world. It is the awakening of things once dormant or seemingly lost. There are parts of ourselves which have been folded away, like sacred origami, preserved, ready for the day when enough light and warmth has reached into the tightened bud to call it out into being.  This arrangement of leaves within a bud is called its ‘vernation’ from the latin vernal for spring. Vernal equinox. Veritas aequi. The unfolding truth of balance and equality. The reality of its own future, neatly folded inside. The flower, the leaf, the tree, even we humans, all begin this way. We feel as if we are unformed when truly we are simply yet unfolded. I saw a documentary on origami recently and its technical applications. Things like going out into space, collapsible robots, and a fair amount on the art of contemporary origami itself. One point that was made is that the structure of the leaf already exists in the b...

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve evolved in my way of imagining That which we most often call “God.” I don’t say that as a declaration of increasing maturity. Rather, the various visualizations I’ve used, and the framework in which I’ve described God to myself, has become less anthropomorphic and human-like over time. In fact, the way I view God now is not as a being at all. Even thinking of It as an entity doesn’t quite do the feeling justice. The feeling I have inside about God is that, primarily, none of us have it right. Not a single one of us can imagine the true nature, existence, purpose, and will, of God. I am respectful of those who believe there is no God at all. I certainly can’t argue with them. For I have no more proof of It than they do. All of us have only religious opinions, no facts. Atheism is another way of questioning the nature of God. A pursuit which I highly regard.  It has occurred to me recently, while pondering for the thousandth time the way to answer the quest...

We have arrived at an age when the specificity of our words is important. Now more than ever, it matters what we say. We get frustrated with having to say the right thing all the time. Political-correctness fatigue is real. We can forget to remember that the person we are speaking to is a human being with feelings and history and complicated reasons why they do the things they do. We are faced with so much when we face our neighbor. It’s a challenge to see the sacred in another person when they smell bad or when they act strange or when they hurt us. It’s nearly impossible to commit to the idea that our worst enemies are equal to us in divinity. Because if there is divinity in the universe then there is divinity for all things equally. If there is none, then there is equally none.  Namaskar is a Sanskrit word that describes a traditional act of bowing to show respect. It’s when we put our hands together in front of our third eye or heart and bow towards someone. Namasté is a typica...