I remember climbing…
over the fence that wrapped around my mother’s home to slip into the dense woods that separated the suburban life from the wild of the forest. I walked deep within, meandering through the thick brush of spring foliage that began to spread throughout much of the countryside.
Eventually, I came upon a tree that looked appropriate. I had just read about the Buddha, the aged prince who once sat underneath a tree for 40 days to reach a glimpse of enlightenment. It was spring break of freshman year, so I figured why not find a tree and sit for 40 minutes to see if I too could garner a smidgen of wisdom?
It was spring break of freshman year, so I figured why not find a tree and sit for 40 minutes to see if I too could garner a smidgen of wisdom?
So I crossed my legs and sat, my spine touching the hardened trunk of the tree behind me. I set my hands in my lap and focused my gaze on a piece of dirt that lay ahead. And for forty minutes I breathed, inhale-exhale-inhale-exhale-inhale-exhale, holding on to the beginner lessons I gleaned from a book on Zen meditation I had picked up from the store.
Like everyone who attempts this standard form of meditation, formally called Zazen, my mind continued to fall under the power of the monkey mind, constantly pulling my presence away from the present experience and into the imagination of tomorrow or the thoughts of yesterday.
Soon enough, however, my stillness brought on a whole new world. I felt interconnected to the swaying grass before me. A fly landed on my knee and I watched in the periphery as it hopped along its crevasses, tasting the salty sweat on my skin. Soon later, I became one with the sounds of nature: the gentle coo of the morning dove in the distance, the shifting leaves, the clacking branches, and the movement of wind all became a felt sense. I remained still, yet on the inside, I became giddy like a child discovering the enormity of a splash when jumping into a puddle of water. I returned to the breath, remembering that this ultra-sensation was what the books talked about and the goal was to remain focused on non-thinking. Okay, I thought, back to disciplining the monkey mind.
This only lasted a brief moment, however. Before I could return to thinking of nothing, I became interconnected with everything. This became clear when a deer approached on my right, dipping its head in the grass below for a morning snack. It continued across my gaze and acted as if I wasn’t even there. Couldn’t he smell me, I thought? Yet, he continued on unafraid as if I were an extension of the tree I sat under.
Forty minutes went by and I returned back to the fence to climb back into the world I grew up in. I walked inside for breakfast, said “Good Morning!” to my mother, and continued on with my day. Nothing looked different except, on the inside, my internal world had completely shifted. A door had opened that I didn’t even know existed before.
This initial experiment with meditation was my little secret. Now, it’s common to talk about meditation, but when I was a kid, if I would have told people about it, they would have thought I was crazy, weird, or perhaps even…. summoning the devil’s work. Over time, I noticed how meditation helped me focus better in my work and connect me deeper to the essence of my Self.
Over time, I noticed how meditation helped me focus better in my work and connect me deeper to the essence of my Self.
Meditation brought me to feel the peaceful interconnectedness of transcendence, to the Root of the Spirit.
A deep dive into developmental psychology got me to realize that many of the famed researchers in the field of human development took much of what they learned from eastern mysticism and filtered it through the more agreeable lens of western scientific analysis. Maslow, Jung, Campbell, Wilber, Grof, Dyer — these western greats had laid the framework for what would drive a new generation to live and work from a deepened sense of purpose, one that aligned with their soul’s calling without sacrificing the freedom gained from financial abundance.
During this time is when I discovered The Power of Manifestation. Again, in secret, I designed a meditation that included affirmations and visualizations that combined the work of Maslow’s Self-Actualization Pyramid with the ancient art of the chakra energy centers which form along the spinal column.
It would take just over two years before I would be overcome with emotion and revel in the knowing that manifestation is about as real as the breath. What I had focused on in my manifestation meditation had, in fact, come to reality. I had moved from NY to San Diego, switched into a work-life that included being 100% remote, and had gratefully received the extra funds needed to cover the growing medical costs for my wife’s treatment.
What happened next is the not-so-glamorous part, the “secret” of the Law of Attraction that doesn’t sell well.
I remember Falling…
into the pits of my own inner psyche. Manifestation had brought with it a new mindset, what some would consider a shift of consciousness. It brought me to face the shadows that positive psychology often ignores (and isn’t very fun to venture into). It opened up the subtle-energetic emotional body that I didn’t even realize I had turned off, one which most people (especially men) have had to turn off to thrive in the fast-paced modern world. My spirit roared to life in a kundalini awakening that had me google one night the symptoms of psychosis. Subtle-body expansion and contraction occurred nearly every week on a level that had me unable to put in the hours of dedicated work that had led to the success I gained up until that point. Some days I’d literally lay in bed simply in an attempt to process it all. That’s when the words, “What got you here, won’t get you there,” suddenly crystallized into sense.
That’s when the words, “What got you here, won’t get you there,” suddenly crystallized into sense.
Through all of this time, I not only survived, but I also continued to thrive (even though it would take a practice of gratitude to see it). Doors continued to open as I walked down my path (albeit sometimes very, very slowly). Over time, equilibrium returned, mostly because of the coaches and healers I leaned on to help me grow through this time. I grew (and continue to grow) into a new version of being that embodies a sense of my Self I didn’t even know existed before.
My close friends and family began to ask me questions as they noticed the changes that shown through the way I now acted in the world. Slowly, I began to open up about what I had kept secret for quite some time. I turned my studies to the art of coaching so I could guide others who want to walk with full-blooded authentic presence, one where they no longer need to put on a mask in front of their co-workers or certain family members. I dove further into the work of Integral Theory, Grof’s holotropic states of consciousness, and the eastern view of emotions as subtle energy. With the work of Dr. Bill Plotkin and the Animas Valley Institute, I ventured off onto wildland to weave in the self-healing modalities our indigenous ancestors knew so well yet has been lost on modern culture. Mystical experiences brought me to my knees in awe at just how much more there is to this thing we call life.
Soon enough I began again to dance with the wind and arrived at the coaching framework I now offer through my work.
It would be nearly twenty years…
before I would again visit the tree behind my mother’s backyard. It had grown withered with time and what was once a thriving forest had whittled into a sparse landscape blotted with a new apartment complex on the horizon. Yet, I put my hand to the tree and again felt its powerful presence, in awe at how it remained there all this time. I pictured a curious little boy sitting there with a huge heart and an even bigger ego, excited to reach this place of enlightenment that he so desperately wanted to go. I imagined the deer that walked by and the flies that made my knees their landing pad. And I thought of why I chose to keep this a secret for such a long time. Life, after all, I’d come to discover, is less about reaching for a place of enlightenment and more about arriving home to a warm fire within.
