Joe Rogan has an Intriguing Brain in that Gigantic Head

Many evenings a week I’m tricked or cajoled into watching some dark, heavy, violent piece of film or television. I don’t mind. I can handle it. But it is certainly not my first choice. Perhaps I have a natural tendency toward sadness and frustration, toward very sensitive compassion and empathy. Or maybe I’m just a big pussy. Probably a combination of all three; but either way, I don’t prefer to be scared, anxious, saddened, or stressed, unless it’s something really fricken good, like Breaking Bad and other worthy shows and movies. I’m not sure how certain artists focus their work on these subjects, because the magnitude and energy-level alone, meaning the state of mind and your overall mood must then reflect the seriousness of the issues you perpetuate, and while I love philosophy and finding some insight in otherwise everyday occurrences, I’d choose to laugh and feel elated, ecstatic, enthusiastic, inspired, uplifted and enlivened any minute of any day over feeling like utter hopeless shit. And because of this very sophisticated preference of feeling happy and positive, I choose comedy to satisfy it all. In all forms, but especially in stand-up comedy, humor is one of the last true methods of exercising our 1st amendment rights. Comedians have this innate knack to point out very obvious truths, direct concise arrows toward hypocrisy in modern society, and cleverly shine a light on what has become very normal, but very caustic human behavior, and that light then becomes a mirror, for us to acknowledge and potentially change. Or just a beautiful means of escapism, laughing at pain diminishes its power, and the impactful methods used by comics to express these sometimes harsh views, have transformative effects on those of us willing to listen. I recently watched Joe Rogan’s 2005 stand-up hour. Coupled with his very interesting podcast, his affiliation with DMT, transcendence, and truthfully the stigma that has followed him because of his career choices, I feel he is well worth sharing, listening and respecting. Everyone wants to be the next Bill Hicks. And no one will let them. What comedians like Carlin, Hicks, Pryor, Lenny Bruce and more led to was this notion that comedy wasn’t just a means to laugh and escape, but more importantly it’s an opportunity to think and face reality, rather than run from it or simply laugh at it. These very clever artists have articulated themselves in a way that it really bleeds into the audience’s subconscious, their words become quotable, memorable, and therefore forever apart of the interweb that is our mind. What’s incredibly unfortunate is our world is no longer being fed by the unique wisdom of the men I mentioned above. Fortunately, legends never die (as my favorite childhood movie the Sandlot informed me), and Bill’s words in particular reverberate on and on, nearly 2 decades since his passing, and the majority of comedians express their utmost admiration and respect for him, for his message and for his brilliance. Most of Bill’s material can be seen on Netflix, YouTube and other internet sources, but before we get into modern-day Hicksian disciples, I’d like to encourage anyone interested to watch American: The Bill Hicks Story, streaming now on Netflix instant. In a quick 90 minutes, my mind and heart were broadened to such a degree it was nearly impossible to process. The story is told so creatively, mostly through the use of photographs from Bill’s life, of his loved one’s, colleagues, friends, and of his adventures. It is narrated by a number of these people, although we never see them, only through chronologically ordered photographs and some video do we see these characters come alive. Since leaving home, like we all do, I acquired my own opinions and loose beliefs regarding politics, religion, drugs, people, nature, love, etc., and through Bill’s astounding story, and through his own astute observations and discernible method of delivery, I was then re-informed and subsequently re-imagined a new, improved way of looking at these subjects. Regardless how staunchly you believe in anything, the film is interesting, funny, insightful and very memorable.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uIaTFag26vc

Back to Joe. If you aren’t aware of what Joe has done or been doing since his 90’s work on Newsradio (still stands the test of time, that was a genuinely funny, smart show), his first stint hosting the insane reality series Fear Factor, his recent return to the even crazier version of the same show, and of course his affiliation with UFC, then you may be surprised to know what a dynamic, thoughtful, intelligent, wise and very funny man he is. He’s been a stand-up comic for 20 years, was a full body Tae Kwon Do champion 4 years in a row, as well as the U.S. light, middle and heavyweight Grand Champion. The fight stuff doesn’t mean much to me, except as a former athlete I can certainly respect the discipline and dedication achieving that sort of goal requires. It also lends to his credibility on certain subjects, regarding health and fitness, fighting in general, and definitely adds to his intrigue as a human being. An MMA, comedy, consciousness enthusiast? Sounds awesome. As with anyone of moderate success and fame will ingest, there are small groups of people with throngs of judgment and negativity toward Joe and toward anyone with an opinion and success. It’s always best to make up your own mind, so here I’m simply suggesting you check him out further, from his fascinating podcast, to his advocacy of DMT, floatation tanks and other altered states, and of course, to his stage persona and comedic material. He’s worth checking out.

I wrote previously about the awe-inspiring documentary DMT, the Spirit Molecule. Joe is experienced and well-informed in various methods of elevating your consciousness, or altering your pervasive state, mainly through the use of marijuana, psychedelic mushrooms, the administration of DMT, and the life-changing effects of a sensory-deprivation, or isolation, tank. I proudly support the legalization and recreational use of cannabis, THC, marijuana, pot, weed, green, hash, whatever euphemism you prefer. It is absolutely the choice of an individual to what they prefer, but this substance that grows naturally almost everywhere around the world carries the most unnecessary stigma and negatively perpetuated myths that I’m appalled it hasn’t at the very least been de-criminalized in each state yet. Joe is a major advocate as well, exclaiming very passionately the bizarre and sometimes helpful ideas this altered state has given him and others, not to mention the feeling of love and connection you feel while under the influence, which is drastically different from a drunken stupor induced by alcohol. Not to mention the laughter. Comedy is medicine, too. We spend billions of dollars a year on man-made prescription drugs, in particular mood elevators, neurological inhibitors and bottles proclaiming numerous physiological benefits for heart, weight, stress and countless others, and most of us don’t even question it! At all, we just pop it, cross our fingers and move on. Joe and many others point to the very simple truth that marijuana, mushrooms, acid and other potentially beneficial natural drugs have yet to be legalized because the pharmaceutical companies, even lobbyists supposedly advocating for our health and for scientific research, keep pumping money into congress to keep these arcane laws in place, to keep us buying these drugs, over and over again. Luckily, knowledge is spreading and the ever-evolving list of positives within medicinal marijuana has led to a good handful of states permitting that sort of use.

The use of the sensory deprivation tank intrigues me. I have some slight issues with claustrophobia and that whole buried alive fear that I’m resolving, but given the research and testimonials, I see nothing but good for those seeking this out and I’m beyond shocked the government hasn’t found a way to remove this from civilian reach. There’s no drugs. It’s just you, floating in 11 inches of water, in silence, in pitch-black darkness, you and your mind. There’s all sorts of muscular and joint benefits attributed to time in the tank, but the mental and “spiritual” experiences recounted are even more powerful. Not sure if or when I’ll do it, but I’m surprised more people aren’t aware or talking about it, and for that reason I wanted to share. Check out the interesting few minute video below and/or read about it here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7tq0IwPao0&feature=player_embedded

Without delving too deep into his very memorable stand-up special from 2005, I’ll just say that Joe is carrying on very Hicks-like subject matter with this aggressive energy and enthusiasm, with ecstatic bursts reminiscent of Sam Kinison. He covers the very simple topics like modern relationships and women’s tendency to lie and conform according to what a man wants, only for it then to backfire a few months later once the man is effectively pussy-whipped. He discusses basic stupidity, evolution, human beings and our relationship to Earth and the cosmos, politics and government (Joe understandably is a Libertarian, Ron Paul supporter), the aforementioned drug issue, death, and the ever-divisive topic of religion. Of course there are a myriad of talented comedians and artists tackling these subjects, standing on the shoulders of Hicks and others, but Joe has an impeccable method of execution. He uses simple language, logic, and appropriate emphasis to allow his words to have resonance, and that impact is profound. I’ve previously expressed in a number of words my lack of religious belief. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God, or that I think all organized religions are worthless, but the heat surrounding these discussions today leads a person of moderate intelligence to see how destructive and exclusive they are, rather than rational, connective and inclusive, which would naturally be more beneficial to us as a human race and as a planet. I believe in love and the factual sentiment of the genius astrophysicist, Dr. Neil Degrasse Tyson, “We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically.” I share in Joe’s enthusiasm to spread helpful, interesting and all around affirmative information, to quell the rampant fear we have as a species, and to instead acknowledge how impossibly gifted and talented many humans are and how these minds are drastically altering our future in extraordinary ways. There's tons of content on his site, YouTube, Google, etc.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVbc0b5yN1M

Joe remains a realist, seeing both the extreme pros and cons of modern day man. He maintains humility, knowing there’s a black hole of information we’ve yet to glean, while maintaining awe at those who are at the forefront of discovery and innovation. Recently he’s had the optimistic filmmaker and futurist, Jason Silva, on his very unique and influential podcast. They discuss the advent of technology and it’s increasingly inevitable integration with humans and how these forms of exploration and inventions will have unimaginable effects on our biology, neurology, chemistry and on the many issues concerning the world today (over-population, resource depletion, consumption, mental and physical diseases, religion, geopolitical power, space exploration, etc.). These conversations leave me more informed than I was going in, inspired to be, think and do better, and they give me tremendous hope and optimism for our future.

There’s a long list of artistic and scientific minds with whom I do not agree 100%, on many subjects, but that doesn’t mean I cannot be open to their ideas and learn from them. To write anyone off, from those you love to strangers on the street, famous and virtually unknown, is to do ourselves a disservice. I don’t have to adhere to it all to find it valuable or beneficial. People all over the world, young and old, exhibiting their own forms of success and expressing their own truths, are worth our time and energy. Feeling confident in what we know while also carrying the humility required to keep learning and improving is imperative. And if you can share some laughs while also being asked to ponder and question everyday realities, it’s a win-win. Give one of Joe Rogan’s methods of expression a shot. I guarantee you’ll be surprised, enlightened and entertained. What’s better than that?

"We're here to eat the sandwich." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zyc12-neTjM&feature=fvsr

There’s plenty of bullshit and crushing evidence of darkness to complain about, but what the hell does that do? There’s also an overwhelming plethora of emerging radiance stemming from human beings. You’re one of them. Stay informed, open, humorous and optimistic. It ruins your and others’ experience being Polly Pissy Pants. You can remain a realist and choose to absorb information that betters you and adds to your level of success and contentment. It is a choice. Choose wisely. And never stop laughing.

For the love of Yoga

I used to feel that life was very black and white, and to be strong in your convictions was important; therefore, you must choose one or the other. Through life experiences, exposure and absorption of provocative art, cerebral and esoteric conversations and the down and dirty practice of Yoga, I’ve not only become more comfortable with gray, but I’m now embracing contradiction, the existence of hypocrisy and the potential for relating and understanding many angles to arguments and the endless spectrum in which people live their lives. There are some key issues that haven’t changed, they’ve probably deepened, but for the most part I’m becoming more comfortable in the unknown, in the ambiguity of life. And I’m grateful. It is deeply mystifying to explore the duality of life. Being a student and teacher of Yoga, a practice meant to be inclusive, gathering, welcoming, awareness driven but never preachy, enlightenment as intention with emphasis on lessons to be gleaned from darkness and suffering, has nailed down what is really important, and diminished the weight of what is not. It resonates and elevates beyond the confines of the mat. It has taught me to radiate Yoga out and in turn, harness it deeper within. This is all very granola, somewhat cliché hippy dippy talk. I’m fine with that. My delving into the practice led me toward explorations and relationships that now make me better and my form of expression is words. Words are meaningless, but they’re all I have. I cannot paint (my art teacher made fun of me, seriously). I do not sing (to others, you’re welcome for that). I love to dance but do not have the lifelong acquired skill to express my feelings and interpret for others to enjoy, except in the creation of my vinyasa sequences. I cannot operate a camera with more than 5 settings (I leave that to the very talented and skilled men in my life). For me, I feel strong when I share, in teaching and in scribing, speaking and corresponding. I’ve been crippled by excessive self-awareness, questioning my skills, whether anyone would want to listen or read, and similar to excessive confidence and the lack of self-awareness, each are driven by the ego, by fear. Yoga shines a light on the ego’s dark existence, bringing in an awareness that slowly dissolves fear and a presence in which the ego simply cannot survive. I’ve slowly gotten over myself, not thinking of myself as great, but also not thinking of myself as inadequate. I am perfectly adequate, and so are you. I care, deeply, for people and for my life to have meaning, to feel effectual and align the external with the internal. Again, duality.

Below started as a game of wordplay, of antonyms, of complexity, and of analyzing the meaning of Yoga, both literally and figuratively. Yoga’s root word is yolk, meaning union, the roots being the union of unconscious and conscious, horizontal and vertical, mortality and divinity. What arrived after a long, run-on sentence, was somewhat of an interesting poem, and keeping in line with everything Yoga has extracted and taught, I thought instead of hoarding it, fearing its unworthiness and doubting its purpose, why not share in something many of us already love, a truth you already know, and share with some who may not have felt the magic of Yoga yet, but perhaps you can relate in your own way. We all can be yogic, being able to touch your toes or twist into a pretzel has very little to do with the intended results. Some of the most beautiful yogis in my life either cannot or do not practice what we’d all assume to be this ancient practice. It has proven benefits for your mind, body and soul, brings a deeper appreciation of this very second, eliminates psychological time, and fosters a very supportive and fun community.

I can only hope I’ve had a fraction of the impact on my students as they’ve had on me. My persistent goal is to keep learning. We’re never finished, treating the means as the end makes the end unpredictably sweeter and the journey exponentially more potent and alive. I’m no longer anxious for what tomorrow will bring or incessantly focused on having a plan. I’m embracing presence as a priority and allowing the path to unfold before my eyes. I’ve recognized I do not have all the answers and I do not need them, I’m open and willing to learn them as I’m exposed, being kinder to myself and reverberating that to my world, hoping it’s boundless. I wish for not only the people I love, but also the people so wrecked with pain, those I still do not understand, and those I’ll never meet, to find their own yogic truth. Who you are is beautiful, give fear and your ego a big middle finger. Give yourself the gift of yoga.

Shanti (peace) and Namaste (I see you, the light in me acknowledges, respects, the light in you.).

Union Symbiosis Mind and body Human and mat Ego and essence Time versus presence Self doubt and confidence Fear and passion Art and skill Strength and flexibility Inhaling and exhaling Rooting down and rising up Succeeding and failing Contentment and insatiability Stamina and Stillness Energy high and energy low Sun and snow Hatha and flow Knowing and unknown Yin and Yang Human and Being We’re all the same

17 to 27...Life after 9/11

I was 17 years old, a senior in high school. Counting down the days until college. My cynical, bordering on bitter views were only about to catapult to the height of what was the Twin Towers. Coming off 8 years of nothing but a stained dress, the majority of citizens, especially my peers at the time, took living in our country majorly for granted. They felt patriotism but without the background or understanding. Elementary and middle school U.S. History and/or American Government in high school did not prepare us for the inherent, even life-threatening level of patriotism we’d soon exhibit. Every single cognitive human being about to don red, white and blue and stick a flag in their yard was about to lose their proverbial innocence, thanks to a few nut-log anti-capitalism, western living haters on September 11th, 2001. At this point, I don’t think about 9/11 on a daily basis, probably not even weekly. I do happen to glance at the clock at 9:11 frequently, but I’m too logical to consider that anything but coincidence. The fact that I always see 11:11 and 7:11 as well makes me think I’m glancing at the clock too much. I’m always reminding myself and others of presence and constantly checking the time is the antithesis of that practice. But I digress. The fact of the matter is 9/11 changed me as much as anyone else old enough to understand that day, and what I received was a crash-course on the world we live in, a violent place sporadically strewn with love and beauty.

Walking into my college English class at approximately 8:05 in the morning (I cannot remember accurately, forgive me), I noticed my liberal, rebellious teacher had the television on, and one of the big, ugly rectangular (please admit now that they were ugly, it’s still a tragedy, don’t get your panties in a bunch, but just because they were tall doesn’t mean they were some feat of modern architecture) skyscrapers were in flames. In a matter of weeks I was about to embark on my first trip to NYC, to say I was excited would of course be a vast understatement. The image on the screen confused me, my mind didn’t immediately know it was terrorism, nor did it recognize today was 9/11, clearly someone was deliberately inflicting a nationwide emergency on us, but my naive, albeit skeptical mind still couldn’t comprehend this. I sat in silence, stunned, while my idiot classmates laughed and high-fived over not having class. See why I was excited to graduate? And also why I was single? I was no picnic either, but at least I was mature enough to know to shut the hell up and not be happy about it.

Watching the second tower get drilled by the west coast bound plane solidified the terrorist theory and watching the first tower burn to the ground propelled a new fear, sadness and compassion I never knew existed. All I thought was, holy shit, all those people, what a horrible, lonely, frightening way to die. The images of firefighters running up the towers are burned (forgive the pun) in my brain and make me think if losing a specific group that day was more sad than another, it was the first responders, those displaying bravery most in our country could never equate to. We arrogantly proclaim to support the troops and often cheer our military on as we fly over countries none of us have been as they drop bombs on strangers, killing people we’ll never know and couldn’t have possibly, ever understood. That element of patriotism I’ll never comprehend or endorse, I’m sorry.

Not to be a downer on this day, but we need to face facts. Here’s how we’re worse: Religious intolerance- we’re all probably guilty of racial profiling, and instead of questioning the legitimacy of our own beliefs and what potential negative consequences strict religious allegiance can bring about, we seemingly delved deeper into our chosen organized religion (probably a denomination of Christianity) and let our discrimination and ignorance expand over Muslim people and their beliefs. Blindly following politicians- Because of the initial fear over 9/11 and our subsequent terror over anything resembling the middle-east, the majority of us swallowed the ugly war in Iraq pill wanting to believe so desperately we needed to be there. We didn’t. Nothing positive has emerged from this war; only unnecessary death, the ever-expanding deficit, astronomical costs on oil which we seem hell-bent on depending and the loss of previously respected and productive relationships with foreign countries. Afghanistan was understandable, but our current president needs to do more to get us out of there. Bin Laden was hiding in Pakistan for years and is now dead, let’s move on to stifling more legitimate threats like Iran and North Korea. Treatment of those we hold so dear- My cousin/older brother Eric (Cuzzy as we call each other) is one inspired by the tragic events inflicted on our country and decided to become a member of the Jacksonville Fire and Rescue Department. He is dedicated, loyal, never complains, just works, and their antiquated and arbitrary methods of advancement have screwed him time and time again. He’s been injured and affected physically, most likely emotionally as well, after many fires, seen unimaginably grim life-situations and disturbing levels of death. Does he talk about it, brag about it, ask the government for recognition, support, money? No. And similar to the first responders still struggling to receive their government help, Cuzzy and his beautiful, hard-working elementary school teacher wife, Angie, consistently receive cuts or the status quo and it’s bullshit. If anything this tragedy should force us to suck it up and spend the extra money on Education and those working in fields most of us could not stomach, and not just the military either. That is a cop-out. The levels of waste on the federal level I have personally witnessed would anger even the most conservative, freedom loving person. It needs to change. And I really hope it does.

Please have a rational, open enough mind to understand why I wrote what I did above. I love this country and similar to my love for myself, I expect the damn best out of it. I don’t begin to believe I understand the depth of our financial difficulties or how to solve them, nor would I want to be burdened with that responsibility, but my hope is when reminded of how we all felt the afternoon of 9/11, that same unity will re-emerge in that overgrown high school that is Washington D.C. I’m probably under the disenfranchised youth umbrella but I am informed and do choose to vote. I read, watch various news programs (not simply one channel whose non-objective analysts conveniently hold my beliefs), and engage in discussions with people smarter and wiser than I. This only exacerbates my frustration, but for some reason, within all this madness, all the exposure of our politicians being seedy little liars, I still feel tremendous hope. And here comes the positive.

Once my peers mommies and daddies sat their teenaged lazy asses down and explained how getting to watch TV all day in class was, in fact, not a good thing, quite the contrary, my classmates started to mature, slowly, and we all collaborated on some pretty gnarly patriotism. National pride can see many ugly consequences, as I’ve watched over these past 10 years, but then it was so pure, sweet even. Those not even understanding our constitution started voraciously reading it, along with other pertinent American history documents. Although it was fairly niche focused reading, 9/11 inspired it, and that’s never a bad thing.

Opposing the aforementioned, for a percentage of us, that day in September brought about our own catharsis, and therefore, a new understanding and tolerance of others. Perhaps to rebel against those acting in opposition, I led the way via my opinions and actions my Freshman year of college, arguing for religious and racial acceptance, and I was not alone. Regardless what some harbor inside, outwardly most at the very least attempt to accept everyone, knowing it is at the very core of our constitution and what typically lifts the United States above our less evolved fellow countries. Freedom of Speech is alive and well here, for better or worse, and although I’d like to squelch the constantly squawking mouths of some, I’m grateful, as a woman and human being, that I can express my opinion, no matter how outrageous, in a civilized manner.

Love. I felt much more loving after that day. I wholeheartedly admit my residence in the bitter barn throughout the majority of my teenage years. A by-product of my parents’ and family members’ divorces, combined with my inquisitive and cynical nature, a protective shell was sure to form, and it did, right with the Fuck You on my forehead (I was told I had this at around 20, so this is not me saying this, clearly I was projecting it. That was first love nonsense and nothing else). I think this common experience brought many together, some that may not have otherwise, and it led to more debate and open discussion we’ve seen since the Kennedy assassination. For me, tired of my loneliness and otherwise wuss ways of the heart, I opened myself to a non-deserving idiot and got my heart-broken, spending 3 years single and lonely. Sounds depressing, right? No, I was inspired to open myself up, I did, enjoying it for a short time, and then I was much more selective, only leading to a few other dating experiences and then meeting my hot piece of man with whom I’m currently betrothed. Not too shabby. It was slow, but 9/11 lead to 9/22, my eventual wedding date.

This is more of a journal entry on a day that inspires reflection. I’ve always been a thinker and a dreamer, and that awful day led to some nightmares, but mostly I feel it thrusted that deep “grab life by the balls” mentality and not taking anything for granted. So I don’t. I have little to no unnecessary drama, amongst family and friends. Only love, laughter and food. We may not all agree politically, or religiously, but we know the love of each other predominates anything else, and that bond is indestructible. No terrorist can touch what is so simple, primal and strong, and that is love. Americans shoved a big Fuck You up haters throats when we unified, loved not only the known, but strangers and unknown loving, liberty lobbyists as well, American dream in tact, never to be destroyed.

We all have our personal 9/11’s, we’ve experienced our own this summer, and the same epiphany emerged 10 years later. All you need is Love. And locate your balls and go for your dreams. Poetic, isn’t it? I always wanted to live in Italy and for three years, I did. Same with NYC, and after 8 years of multiple trips and visits, I parked my ass there for a few months and embarked on Yoga teacher training, a life-changing adventure full of lessons, fun times and some incredible, lasting friends. Now, while teaching Yoga throughout Chicago, I’m pursuing another dream, writing. The same perspective 9/11 instilled in us all that day has reverberating effects. I will not waste my life, sacrifice my dreams, or overlook the importance of loved ones. If those still living in fear from their horrible experience that day could only relinquish that fear and gain the lesson that has benefited me and others, this country and their personal world would be a more benevolent place. That may sound pageanty, but my personal experience with this brings some credibility, and the copious amounts of people who got on with it and didn’t look back, like my Cuzzy.

I hope things continue to progress because we certainly cannot continue to live in the mediocrity we’ve created. Change is necessary for progression and for our country to remain an example others wish to emulate. People sneak into this country for a reason, let’s work to keep that desire alive. The idea of America is alive and well. My family and friends give me reason to believe. Keep hope, and love, alive.

My Philosophical Conundrum

Religion is an acrimonious subject. I’m reticent to ever discuss it as it extracts, at times, the worst in people. I find the very reaction, the defensiveness, the collective egos, the criticism, to be the literal antithesis to that belief system’s intention. What began as a collective measure, quickly turned into a manipulative practice in the control of mass quantities of people. Like puppets, hoards of us think, speak and move, according to what others say. What is the difference between an omnipotent being passing down life lessons and your parents doing the same? Your parents are real. As a woman, in 2011, I’d be better off living under a burka in Afghanistan, than adhering to the bible literally. The ways both testaments seek to subvert women is both creative and disturbing. Believing in an all-knowing, supposedly all-loving being and living within their guidelines, whether it be the Bible, Torah, Koran or other document over 800 times as old as I am, is a tough pill to swallow. So I elect to take no pill. Instead, I choose to ask questions and be open to many possible answers, or no answer at all. Hopefully, knowledge is more contagious than fear. That is still a question that remains unanswered, but again, I’m optimistic. I’m not afraid of other religions or religious people. All I ask is they’re open to me, an atheist with a heart, a Yogi with an elemental soul, evolution animating the dreamer.

I find the literal interpretation of any ancient document to be futile. It can only lead to hypocrisy; in you and in others. The number of times these “good books” have been translated from dead languages into ever-evolving live ones provides an inkling to the problem right there. Like a game of telephone, what comes out at the end scarcely resembles the initial thought. So who knows what the actual, truthful first words were and exactly what they were intended to mean. No one. Not your priest, not your rabbi, not even the Dalai Lama. Some have an in-depth study in their theology, in literary interpretation, and are adept at philosophical debate; yet, not one single human being alive today knows anything for sure. That very fact alone, the not knowing, is precisely what leads to devout faith and unapologetic, even forceful, belief. I’m more inspired and encouraged by what I don’t know than what I do. Inquisitive minds never say never and never say always. They’re accustomed to gray areas and swim in the unknown, without a life-vest. This is where I choose to reside, in the murky, mysterious deep, answers progressively unfolding, evolving as I do.

As a recovering pragmatic forward-thinker, I can understand and even appreciate why faith is important, the good it can do, and the focus it can inspire. I simply offer alternatives to the antiquated, unforgiving, rigid structure that organized religion provides. We need to allow ourselves to be wowed by seeking out our own information, instead of mindlessly absorbing what is thrust at us. Sure, there is free will involved in waking up, going to your religious headquarters and reading your form of scripture; however, how many times do we ask, “why am I here? how did I get here? do I still want or need to be here, really? Does this material truly sit well with my soul, sink into my bones and operate smoothly via my mind and body or am I simply conditioned? Am I living within the parameters that have been set happily, without judgement of others, without a need to be better than another, more righteous than another, more welcomed into “heaven” than another?”

The closest concept to a religion that I practice is Yoga. In the west it’s regarded as a method of increasing flexibility, but mostly, yoga carries a heavy stereotype that cripples its potential growth. I’m a teacher from my own, unique perspective, allowing a practice much older than most world religions to provide answers in surprising ways. I still eat meat, compete, curse, and god forbid, make mistakes, because I am a human being, and that is all Yoga has ever asked me to be. The stillness and calm taking residence permanently deep within makes many more appearances in my daily life because of yoga. It has brought love and connections to me and is the most inclusive way of life I’ve come across. I’ve met men and women of all ages, nationalities, sexual orientations and religions and through those differences, we found our common ground, and it happened to be yoga. I’m not saying it has to be Yoga, but it has to be something.

The issue I take with the state of our world is the sheer repellant we apply to people we deem different, often stemming from ignorance and skewed ideology. I’m striving to not make decisions based on my habituated way of thinking but perhaps via a conduit I’ve yet to explore, potentially the very answer lies within the source of the question itself. This goes for small arguments, day to day decisions, career moves, political alliances and all occasions surrounding catharsis. My quarter century on this planet and exposure I’ve been fortunate enough to experience has only given credence to this. Different is good. Weird is awesome. Life is unpredictable. Allow yourself to be awestruck and changed by someone or something else.

Ideology continues to morph and change as people do, but there is one constant. LOVE. If you find that the intention behind whichever your chosen belief system is to infuse, imbue and instill Love, then carry on my friend. Keep yourself honest, continue the quest, allow yourself to doubt. And while bathing in the deep, enigmatic waters, drowning in doubt, think, feel, exude LOVE.

This passage was created and published with Love, please only take it as such.