Your Friends Who Round You Out

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I have a best friend named Aaron, who travelled the world to find himself. He used to run PR for major NY entertainment clients in a 9–5 job he dreamed of having, until the reality proved a waking nightmare. So he invested early in Bitcoin, did well enough to quit his job, and travelled for years to Bali and India to learn about himself. Along the way, he developed a passion for the Tama-Do school of sound healing and studied with the master of the movement, Fabian Maman, in Switzerland. He spent months all by himself, cultivating intimacy with his mind and heart and fears and intuition. He repaved his path in life, and his journey inspired me to seek my own way. I left my steady job in 2016 to freelance as a teacher, writer, and performer, engaging in my own solo odyssey into the unknown. 

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You Have To Open Your Hand

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Do you understand?

You’re not behind.

You haven’t missed the boat.


It’s ok.

You are only what you make of yourself, minus what you think you need to be.


Happiness is life minus your expectations.

You’re doing great.

And who cares if you’re not.

You don’t have some minimum to meet at the bar.

Your life isn’t up to what you’d tip for it.

So be happy and content, even as you ponder what you want.

For the world is what you make of it.

Don’t torment yourself over feeling sad,

Or pine for the things you lack.

It doesn’t help to moan and wish.

It will come to you when you don’t search for it.

In time. With patience. With love.

Unclench that fist.

Because in order to receive,

You have to open your hand.

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Letting Go and Believing

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I’m a Capricorn, and my brain runs on pragmatism, even when it comes to mysticism. I’ve been wrestling with it for years now, and I’ve come to believe that the only practical option that makes sense for my heart is to believe in a higher power. To trust that some greater, wiser force is conducting the reigns of my life. That everything’s meant to be and is happening as it should.

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Wake Up And Be Creative

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I saw my mind like a department store, and I was the security guard in the middle of the atrium.

For once, I could see my problems labeled clearly: There was the department of Distractions. There was the bodega of Crippling Anxiety. There was the greeting card store with a sale on Comparing Yourself To Others. There was the fast food court with News about our country falling apart. There was the Responsibility and Task Management desk, control panels blinking with notifications. All these stores in my mind, open for business, ready to set the tone for my day as I woke.

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