Korean Zen Buddhist teacher Haemin Sunim said,

"Earth is a great school for the growth of our spirit, not a courtroom where we are judged and later punished. Our purpose here is to break free from self-imposed restraints -- often shaped by the stories we tell ourselves -- and to rediscover our innate true nature of love.

We don't need to live at the level of the ego, which feeds on the illusion of separation and the struggle for survival. Instead, we can rise to the level of spirit, embracing the truth that all life events, even the painful ones, serve our growth and evolution."

To consider, even for a moment, that life could be a school versus a courtroom, a curriculum versus a punishment, is an invitation to explore something broader than instinctual survival and deeper than transient pleasure.

Words inspired by Confucius as quoted from The Analects

"[A good man] does not worry about not being known by others but rather worries about not knowing them." - Confucius

I think many of us raised in the Western tradition has heard the quote attributed to Socrates, "Know thyself" as the first step to wisdom. By the same token, to know oneself seems to me to be a foundational exercise to knowing someone else. When I know who I am, how I came to be, how and why I act, react, and behave in certain ways with both honesty and kindness, I become more equipped to lend the same curiosity, study, and awareness toward those around me. Most importantly, I become better at listening.

So often, I find myself wanting to be heard, to be understood and not misinterpreted that all that matters is to hear my own voice, to project my own perspective, to clarify my own intention. George Orwell once said that "Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood." Well, what happens when everybody prioritizes this for himself over love? Is there a chance for mutual awareness? Is there ultimately more understanding? My guess is that people end up even more dissatisfied with their relationships.

And so I want to begin by knowing myself. When I know myself, maybe it won't matter so much if someone doesn't understand me. It's not always in my control, but what I can choose to do is try to understand them. Broadening my understanding of anyone I come into contact with can be only more food for wonder, for compassion, for connection and love. So, why not?

Inspired by one of Sadhguru's most well-known speeches, this eye-opening chat reminds us that seeing the world with a beginner's mindset can be invaluable especially when engaging with a child.

Inspired by Wendell Berry's poem, "Our Real Work":

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.

This poem brings to mind another observation made by film-maker David Lynch who said that as we get older, it's not that that life becomes easier to navigate, but rather it's a limiting of imagination. When I think I know exactly what to do, do I necessarily check if it's the right thing to do, or am I just on auto-pilot?

Children struggle with the real work of living constantly as they learn to navigate the rules set forth by whatever culture and society they happen to be growing through. And maybe that's a gift, to be in a place of not knowing still even in old age -- which begs the question, "How can I continue to baffle my mind?"

There are many ways for strength to manifest itself. The one that is helping me most right now is strength through resilience.⁠⁠

It bears reminding that each of us has a song in our hearts. It doesn’t have to be a happy song or any kind of song, but a song nonetheless that no one can sing but ourselves.⁠

Inspired by Antonio Machado's "Traveller, there is no path"

Traveller, the path is your tracks⁠
And nothing more.⁠
Traveller, there is no path⁠
The path is made by walking.⁠
By walking you make a path⁠
And turning, you look back⁠
At a way you will never tread again⁠
Traveller, there is no road⁠
Only wakes in the sea.⁠

Inspired by text from "The Analects" attributed to Confucius, of the scholar who in his eagerness to pursue wisdom forgets his food, in his joy forgets his sorrows, and who grows old without noticing the passage of time" (Analects 7.19)

A small reminder that to be here, now, is a miraculous thing. And for all the pain and suffering that the brain may be most attuned to, for all the disappointments and despair to make you wonder, "Why? What's the point? What for?"... I hope you ease them for a moment with the weightier wonder of just being here at all and being here for it all.

You are miraculous.

Inspired by George Bernard Shaw⁠

After I finished university, I turned down an opportunity to work in corporate finance for a large defense company. Instead, I ended up taking a job as a micro-business advisor to a women's association. I lived in a town of less than 60 families, a 5-hour hike through the mountains to the nearest town with an internet connection, a bank, and a hospital. ⁠

I thought I'd find myself there, but I didn't.⁠ I thought that becoming the opposite of who I was would be the answer, but it wasn't.⁠

Our true selves are not walking around outside of us, somewhere for us to discover -- complete and whole. We are the accumulation of decisions, actions, words, changes, and connections that we make. If you're not happy with where you are today, just realize that it's not necessary to rebel like I did. The change you seek can be clarified with honest reflection, small investments in time and curiosity about yourself and your relationship to the world around you.⁠

Inspired by Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

Edward O. Wilson said that humans have "Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology." This combination seems to me to create a real imbalance and dysfunction where the sheer amount of information can provide the illusion of evolutionary advancement, but do we understand our own natures and the systems that have yet to catch up?

Robin Wall Kimmerer, a mother, scientist and botanist, and member of the Potawatomi tribe, who inspired this chat, shares evidence that society in many ways has moved in the opposite direction of wisdom. She asks of us, "For what good is knowing, unless it is coupled with caring? Science can give us knowing, but caring comes from someplace else." I think the more we can cultivate a source of caring in each of us, the more effectively we can use our immense wealth of knowledge in ways that help instead of harm.

An Instagram follower shared this ⁠story with me a little while back about the importance of having good friends with the compassion and courage to help us confront ourselves and grow in life. I hope you enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed painting these little buddies!⁠

"Ananda, one of Shakyamuni Buddha's closest disciples, once asked him: 'It seems to me that by having good friends and advancing together with them, one has already halfway attained the Buddha way. Is this way of thinking correct?'⁠

Shakyamuni replied, 'Ananda, this way of thinking is not correct. Having good friends and advancing together with them is not half the Buddhist way but all the Buddhist way.'"⁠

Power in some ways carries a negative connotation for me. The idea of power either fuels a sense of purpose through the ego, or has me suppressing it with feelings of judgment or sometimes shame. But is power in itself really that bad?

Something that I've often read and have come to notice and admit is true in my own experience is that it isn't. There are some things that I might be ashamed to admit that I wish to pursue, like my own happiness, a relationship, fame, wealth, and influence, can sometimes go hand-in-hand with what is aligned with my true self, or my soul. Happiness and desire in themselves can be terrible masters to serve, but happiness can be a by-product when I pursue things that bring purpose and meaning in my life.

But, if I pursue happiness for the sake of happiness, I actually create a life of greater insecurity, because I end up living in constant fear that my happiness will fade. I constantly look for that next high, the next hit of happiness, to maintain my sense of safety and comfort. Likewise, if I pursue power or influence for the sake of power and influence, I actually end up having less of it. Power is never satisfied, because in its nature, power can never have enough of itself. The more power I get, the more I fear losing it. The more I fear, the more insecure I feel, and therefore, I'm actually not that powerful.

For me, power is not the ability to control my surroundings, to dominate those in my path, or pre-determine my life. Power in its deepest essence is freedom from being swept away by my circumstances, the throes of my emotions, the actions or judgment of others. I long for power as a by-product of an inner calmness that comes with self awareness, observation, and decisive action.

Power plays are common in my home life with a strong-willed six-year-old. Often when it's time to get ready for school, time to get ready for bed, or do anything that he's not 100% on board with, my son will often make a bid for power and test my tolerance. Just as many parents get tired of their children's disobedience, I often find myself feeling angry at my son and bitter that he should defy me when as a child, I would never dream of speaking to my parents in any way that questioned their authority, much less insulted them or Not applicablely assaulted them as he sometimes does to his father and me.

The truth is I don't want him to be obedient for the sake of obedience. I don't wish to define my power as, "He obeys me without question." I wish to define it as, "I am not affected by his behavior." I wish to hold to the boundaries and rules that I set as a parent without feeling angry or bitter, without shaming him or myself, by teaching the skills of listening and communication as the foundation for understanding, respect, and compassion. That, for me, is true power.

There's a saying that goes, "The person with the calmest heart is the most powerful."

And it also reminds me of another Pema Chödrön line that reads, "You are the sky. The rest is just weather." To keep power close, to not become a slave to power that is never satisfied, my primary goal is to master myself, to know myself intimately and honestly, so that I can embody that sky -- eternal, immense, and clear -- experiencing and witnessing, but ultimately unaffected by, all the weather that life presents.

Welcome back, as I resume new comics this month! Over the summer, I came across a story from a woman named Torria on "Humans of New York." She said of her childhood, "I was just going through so much, you know. Horrible things were being done to me. Horrible, terrible things. So I’d use whatever I could. I’d pay attention to anything that made me happy. That’s one thing I can do: pay attention. It comes from something within me. We all have it. But you know, I tap into it. I still do. I just took a picture of a flower this morning. I’m so grateful. I’m telling you, I’m so grateful that I came out of the darkness. Maybe my journey wasn't to make money or to be successful or anything. It was just to recover."

I just read and re-read that statement, and came back to it weeks and even months later: "My journey wasn't to make money or to be successful or anything. It was just to recover."

And it brought to mind how unfair life can be. How different our experiences are, how due to "man's fault" -- the fault of humanness, our ability to inflict unspeakable pain on someone, to plunge another being into darkness -- someone might never fulfill some potential for greatness. It's just not fair.

There is no known reason that I can understand which explains why I was born into the life I have, and the opportunities availed to me, while somewhere else, another woman who might have been a greater artist, a more heart-touching poet, or a more nurturing mother, is struggling to keep herself alive in a civil war.

I can't judge the world on the basis of fairness. It would break my heart and drive me crazy with anguish every time. Instead, I've been trying to look at it from the Confucian perspective that each of us must simply "discharge one's duties" in life. I return to Torria and how the darkness of her childhood kept her in shadows from which she was lucky to emerge. Michael Meade says, "The fateful event of being wounded early in life creates the need for a deep healing process that becomes the path of awakening for each person." No, it wasn't fair that she suffered through such darkness. It was wrong, and she deserved better. And at the same time, she discharged her duty to herself to recover. And who can say that that's not enough? It's more than enough. It's amazing.

So what is the implication for someone whose "path of awakening" is more accessible? I guess I, too, must discharge my duties be responsible to myself and because I have the means, to live beholden to those around me. No, I can't make life fair, and I can't make the whole world just, but I can make some good for others through good work. And maybe that's all that I should expect.

A little chat inspired by Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis, two incredibly important musicians who made their distinctive mark in music and paved the way for others to do the same

There seems to exist a fallacy in our perception that to be iconic means to have some signature trait that remains static, and being true to ourselves somehow means that that truth never changes. But it does, and the ability to flow with that change is what keeps our existence honest, timeless, relevant, and connected.⁠

My son likes to pay his respects at various temples we pass on the way to and from school. I think the rituals are fun for him, and he finds the gods and deities interesting to look at. Explaining religion to him is a bit of a challenge for me, because I didn't grow up with worship as a large part of my life. So, today's chat is inspired by Confucian philosophy. ⁠

Rather than look to "otherworldly sources of spiritual values," Confucian philosophy holds human relationships to be sacred. Each of us is fundamentally good, and capable of developing our moral nature through communal effort and self-cultivation of the Five Constants (五常): ⁠

• Compassion⁠
• Justice⁠
• Propriety⁠
• Wisdom
• ⁠Integrity⁠

The goal of Confucian philosophy is to create a world -- government, families, citizens -- centered on morals. Our world is constantly changing, and while we can never predict what the future will bring, nor what situations we find ourselves in, Confucianism argues that if we have a strong foundation in recognizing right from wrong, and create a society that promotes right over wrong, then humanity should be able to make good decisions and do right by each other.⁠

All of this is kind of ironic, because Confucianism now has a reputation of being an extremely traditional, rigid, and ritualistic philosophy... not to mention anti-women, so I'll just take the core of its teaching and leave the rest.

Walking meditation is one that I find easiest to practice, even for a few minutes in my day, no matter where I am. It's an accessible meditation, especially for people who are on the move.

Nhat Hanh had described a kind of walking meditation with a mantra as well to go along with it:

"Usually, our in-breath tends to be a little shorter than our out-breath. When you breathe in, you may take two steps and say: 'I have arrived, I have arrived.' When you breathe out, you might like to take three steps and say: 'I am home, I am home, I am home.'

'Home' means being at home in the present moment where you can touch all the wonders of life. We should be able to walk with a lot of tenderness and happiness on this beautiful planet. 'I have arrived, I am home,' is not a statement, but a practice."

Kelly Corrigan recently shared a line that I think came from David W. Augsburger: "Listening is so close to love most people can't tell the difference." She goes on to share a rhetorical question from her youth: "Are we really communicating or are we just taking turns talking?"

Listening is probably the most underrated action that can transform a relationship. It is the bridge to understanding, and understanding makes space for love.

We're often reminded that actions speak louder than words, that words can be empty promises. But today, I am grateful for words that are born from kindness and carry the spirit of love and hope. I've been re-reading some of my favorite books lately and finding much comfort in doing so. This variation of Natsuki Takaya's saying focuses on that aspect of the power of words.⁠

It's easy to feel overwhelmed by the enormity of all there is to do for our world. But what small things we can do every day is how we get there, so don't stop. Keep going. You can make a difference.

Inspired by Saint Theresa de Avila

From a young age, so many children are asked what they want to be when they grow up, what they want to do with their lives, as though life were something to "do" -- something to mold to one's will -- rather than the canvas, the clay, the creator, and the process all rolled together and unfolding at the same time.

So maybe the deeper, more worthy challenge is not how to achieve as much as possible, but rather how to live with maximum love.

Sometimes when my son experiences moments of personal turmoil and anguish, all I want to do is take away his pain and discomfort. While that is one method of approaching a problem, it's also worth noting the value in making room for discomfort, to allow him the full breadth of his feelings to develop and run their course.

When I jump immediately to action, the signal I'm sending is to be afraid of his discomfort, to change, avoid, or suppress it as quickly as possible. I'm sending a signal that there's not enough room in the world for his experience, when more often than not, I think there is. And there is a chance to be connected with another person through their pain and suffering, which is why compassion is not the cessation of pain, but rather to ability to accompany someone else in said pain.

One of the most heart-opening realizations I've had from when I was a child was that as intensely as I was experiencing all the thoughts, feelings, hopes, and anguish in my life, every single other person on this earth likely is going through the exact same process as their lives unfolded as well.

It was a realization that made me feel an unmistakable communion with all people. It was also a humbling awakening that forced me to admit that I'm no more worthy than anyone else, and that my comfort and satisfaction is no more important than another's.
I'm another you -- different maybe, but also very much the same.