In times of difficulty, if you can maintain a clear head and strive to make the best decisions possible, you have increased your chances of attaining “secondary gains,” or unexpected benefits.

I think blessings in disguise often go overlooked, due to blindness arising from resignation or frustration.

My idea of detachment is to be able to kick ass at life and walk away from the ensuing praise and glory.

It seems that most people’s definition, however, is to run away from the hard work of kicking ass at life.

When I emerge from a dark night of the soul, it’s often because I’ve stopped trying to hide in the light.

Sometimes you need to fight, strive, and swear. That approach is often romanticized in movies and television.

But I believe the truly enduring approach is to simply persist in solving problems, both great and small.  Add in all the romanticism you want, but in the end, I believe that this approach is not only the most practical, but also cuts through unnecessary cynicism and wince-inducing platitudes.

Thus far, over the span of my years, it has also FELT the best, as it has netted me the most long term fulfillment.

Theres a kid inside my mind.  He wants me to make sense of all the horror and wonder contained in the world, and lace it into a compelling narrative—a narrative that lifts his heart, opens his thoughts, and inspires him to write a story of his own.

I think when we craft a story for that hidden version of ourselves, it seems to connect with everyone else’s.  And for an undeniable moment in that spot-on story, it seems we can be that kid again; the one who turns the pages with wide-eyed wonder, and has to restrain themselves from jumping up from their seat and whooping in delight.

Show up, execute the best plan possible, then pick out lessons of value later on.  How simple and difficult is that?  I’m all for traditions that advocate that approach.

As far as the others go, I would examine their methods with a wary eye; I’ve seen too many people hide behind platitudes, justifying their lack of results with corroded ideals.

I think of pain as a great leveler, as well as a possible gateway into the sublime.  It can bring us together, it can wipe away ignorance and propagate wisdom, it can catalyze for amazing art (pain touches everyone, and in its universal reach, gives rise to truth).  I think of it as a caustic gift when it’s thrust upon me, but still—I try not to seek it.

Because I think there are easier ways to tap the sublime.  If I’m in pain, it’s usually because I’ve let smaller mistakes compound into a giant interest payment.

Stubbornness really doesn’t impress me, as it seems to be an abundant commodity; it seems that whenever you butt up against anything someone deeply identifies with, you invariably make them stubborn.

I’m impressed by someone who proactively engages with a problem, and does their best to solve it.  Regardless of whether it fits within the parameters of their identity.

If I can do that, I can let the results (and consequently the universe, I think) speak for themselves.  I can also become fluid and flexible, attaining that free-flowing harmony that’s hinted at in the core of philosophy, in the core of mysticism.

Ironically, I don’t have to even read the texts that describe this state in order to reach it; I can simply direct my full attention onto the problems in front of me.

When “whatever works” gets consistently re-interpreted into “whatever feels good”…

Then it doesn’t work, and it stops feeling good.