The path into the light seems dark, The path forward seems to go back Tao Te Ching As we charge headlong into tomorrow, always chasing more, better, faster; always believing the noise we won’t pause to consider; always trusting our head (the least knowledgeable, most easily exploited part of our being) above all, how can we maintain a connection to a path, much less devotion to a principle? Perhaps we expect highways, not paths. On highways the drive is smooth and clearly delineated. On highways we travel fast across a surface prepared by the labors of others. On highways we travel the same road as countless others. ...

is like the Doberman that lives halfway down the block—fierce, rigid, and frightening in its austerity— Until You throw it a bone and make nice?

The past just kind of sits there minding its own business. It really can’t do anything. Neither, of course, can the future. Only the present contains action. When one turns his attention to trashing the past or the inhabitants thereof, the main question that comes to mind is why. What does one hope to gain by launching a full-on assault on something that doesn’t actually exist? Some possibilities: The avoidance of comparison to morally and intellectually superior predecessors The masking of intellectual laziness A respite from an under-developed self The attention of the similarly challenged Trashing the past is, above all things, an act of misdirection. One who casts blame denies responsibility. One who attacks the past accepts no responsibility for today’s solutions. One who lies about yesterday cannot be trusted today. ...

Each of us is a leader. Each of us is a follower. Some days we lead only ourselves. Perhaps it is as simple as bathing, eating, and completing a two-item todo list. Even so, we must lead ourselves to take each of these actions. On very low energy days when the sofa has its claws in us, we assess, commit to, and manage at least the bare minimum activity the day requires. Even such simple things do not happen on their own. ...

The love of pleasure is destined by its very nature to defeat itself and end in frustration. Thomas Merton Why should it be so, that one becomes frustrated with pleasure? On a very basic level love and pleasure are intertwined. One loves what brings pleasure. Perhaps not at first—pleasure often appears with the taint of guilt which only fades with time and repetition—but eventually. Is it possible to have love in the absence of pleasure? It is not uncommon to hear an athlete remark on the love of suffering. However, is it not more likely that the endurance of physical pain triggers a psychological pleasure? The belief that one can endure more than the next fellow is most definitely a stroke to the ego. Is it truly a love of suffering, then, or a love of the feeling of superiority? ...

Who among us is not drowning in information? It’s everywhere. Things we ought to know. Where once we may have had a set of encyclopedias, a few history books, a few novels, and the Bible, we now have hundreds of notes, epubs, pdfs, rss feeds, and bookmarks pointing toward all corners of the universe. It’s so pervasive that the notion of “building a second brain” (an external yet personal repository of stuff) has spawned a software niche of PKMS - personal knowledge management systems. Because having stuff means maintaining stuff. The available applications, like their reason for being, are a growing, seemingly endless, and quite fascinating rabbit hole–a rabbit hole in which to store one’s rabbit holes. ...

There is a saying. When a life breaks, when a heart breaks, there is a crack so the light can get in. Comfort lives in that notion. Something, this outside light, waits to heal us, to make things better. Kiss it and make it feel better. Most of us learned that in childhood and had that belief reinforced in many ways. No matter the ailment, there was an external remedy. An aspirin for a headache, a physician for an illness, a teacher for the ignorant, a minister for the soul. The world is organized in that way and it is good. We follow the Fall so we are broken, therefore sickness, pain, and evil. ...

Simplifying your life is so difficult. Everything is pulling you to be more complex. Yvon Chouinard As surely as an oak gains rings over time, we gain junk. Our junk may take the form of items, titles, roles, beliefs, stories, or nearly anything else. Much of life, we are taught, is about accumulation—degrees, certifications, clients, family, money, property, toys—and the more we accumulate the more we must accumulate to contain all that we have accumulated. ...

The cook is disappointed in a dish and it ends up in the garbage… The golfer hits a relatively poor shot and angrily flings his club… In the midst of a fine day you bang your toe on a piece of furniture and descend into anguished tears… Some little thing occurs that is not part of the plan, that is not quite the expected outcome, and it elicits a reaction so out of proportion as to appear comical, if not a sign of derangement, to an observer. Likely some degree of shame, perhaps masked as rationalization, follows. If only it was the casserole or the golf shot or the furniture placement that was to blame, life would be so easy. One could find a new recipe, put in additional practice, hire an interior designer, and solve that nasty outburst issue once and for all. ...

When your dreams are of some world that never was or of some world that never will be and you are happy again then you will have given up. Cormac McCarthy from The Road But giving up need not be a permanent condition.